UNDAUNTED
Missive #53 - Transcribed Poetic Dictation
[One of the strangest things about the process of transcribing and publishing these missives for you all is the order in which it all occurs. There are two other missives which, strictly speaking, “came” before this one (actually before even INSPIRATE ASPIRANT), titled BLATANT VERDANCE and HOLY ROGUERY. From my first missive around a year and a half ago at the commencement of this project, the rules have remained the same: when a missive is delivered (in full), it is published with transcription and accompanying recitation as soon afterwards as I am able. This not only allows psyche to utilize my platform to speak into the current evolvings of things, but also to game my ego—the “I” which so desperately desires to control outcome order and sense. The game here is to balance control and relinquishment-of-control in order to deliver something which I could not consciously craft on my own. Usually the process is quite elegant — I receive a clear dictation, often with visual accompaniment, occasionally with dreams and visions, and then I receive a clear instruction to share it. Great. Easy! Sometimes however, the tricksy spirit of the unconscious mechanism behind these dictations reveals itself by providing half-digestible snippets of missives, little temptations. Should I attempt to grab onto them, they vanish. And when I try to consciously complete the fragments, the added words become vapid mush, elementary goo. I have learned by now to not go down either of these (albeit still tempting) roads, and instead wait for a complete delivery. Sometimes the pre-Missives are delivered in full later; sometimes they are simply deposited indefinitely back into the ether. Suffice to say, today was particularly odd, as I began to receive HOLY ROGUERY with absolute clarity and then when I sat to transcribe it, it disappeared! Holy Roguery indeed.. I thought it might reappear later tonight as they sometimes do, but no! Instead, a completely different dictation arrived, “out of nowhere”. In place of the Rogue was UNDAUNTED. I have begun to find this whole process rather amusing. There is certainly a trickster about in the unconscious—and an undaunted one at that~ ] Received 8/29/24 | 2:23am
Listen to the Recitation:
UNDAUNTED
To be, undaunted
Is to be told that something is impossible
And to move towards it with no hesitation
To progress towards the impossible end
To withdraw the sword frozen in stone.
Dauntlessness may not be possible, or even
Desirable—but to be undaunted, unshakable;
Calmly belligerent, a star falls at their feet
And says, "Be not afraid; what is yours awaits
You" in the highest depths of a damnation,
Crowned with mountains of fear and unworthiness,
Shaking, trembling; shake these feelings off
And dash forth, eyes glinting steel, sharpened
To a knife's edge, adamant, atom-wide,
The thinnest edge on the hardest material becomes
The sharpest tool, cutting carbon bonds as air,
As thoughts by Manjushri's blade, sliced in two
To have both halves dissolve in ash, the white ash
Of bone, powdered fragments covering the body
Of the first yogi; Shiva's trident, the Trishula,
Balancing the three guṇas inertia stability change,
Destroying the three worlds mind past physical
Collapsing all realms into one plane, one reality
Where the points three come each to a point,
The power to obliterate ignorance and negativity
And consolidate joy in effervescent possibility.
Wielt with grace, Shiva holds high the symbol
Of the Trimurti of existence Brahma Vishnu Shiva
Creation Preservation Destruction.
Self-created, one is born a million times each day
Of their volitions. You bear a bright golden
Trishula too, since the dawn of creation.
Blazing heat, the crested eye opens, green
Blue and purple light, searing forth through the realms
Left hand held upright, palm facing in
And a trident in the right, three points up.
The nine circles of hell unspiral up from the hearth
Of the earth, each circle purified in turn. Purgatory
Then unturns up in itself, an unfolding fan of tablets
Bamboo plates covered in names, in deeds
And too is purged from existence, burned to ash;
The priceless artifact is made ash in the face
Of truth undaunted, the calm demeanor of
A cast forth candor, burning at three ends,
Exponentiating from center to edge and edge to
Center. As one it becomes ash, and falls away
To carry on breeze's brow as melted thoughts
Furrowed to another day: another day which is not
Now—and that which is not now is not.
Breathe. The cleansing is still underway.
In place of purgatory comes paradise, the purelands
Of great Amida-Butsu. Namu Amida Butsu.
Hark! The paradise too shall become oblivion
Before the half smiled sideways eye, the third
Of its kind, which is the last and the first,
The tritiya prakrti, the triton genos, the chorus,
The place in which being becomes, and becomes-not.
As paradise burns in this endarkenlight ray
One hears, for a moment, the ecstatic sighs
Of a trillion billion million voices, of every species
Of every type of life that has ever lived or shall ever
Live which are all alive in this searing nOw.
The whole of the heavens vanish in time, and
Amida Nyorai, Amitabha Tathagatha, the Buddha
Of limitless light, becomes limitless in their extinction
And goes gladly in the wink of a lightbeam's r(/g)aze
To a tingling demise, snapped up in a soundless
Severance, dauntless in their sureness of
What awaits. "What is yours awaits you; do not
Be afraid!" an echo resounds, resides, in the torn
Corner fold of the last glimmer of periled hope,
Lost at the bottom of the barrel, into the infinity
Of void, serenade. The heavens are escaped now;
What remains? You stand before the beacon
Pulsing light, beating heart, infrared scintillations
Pouring out in every direction. There is no moral
Attachment here. What even is here? Do not ask
Questions; they can no longer be asked. What is
Before you! Face it.
Turn to it, blank
Your eyes narrow slightly, as if in a daze
The Buddha's gaze, soft
Surroundings fuzzy, the object sharp
Enveloped in focus, wholly grasped
Without hands reaching, it is held
And held, it is within reach.
A dazzle flashes across your eyes—
This, before you, is yours!
Be undaunted. Difficulty is an illusion
A trial overcome. There is no danger.
You are untamed, unrestrained, indomitable.
Vanquish all doubt, souls are born intrepid.
The task is for you; for you to do, to be;
And oh how the task becomes you.
