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Message to One Suffering Depression, by
Poetry, Hanging Out, Depression, Jesus, and Being, by David Hodges
Message to One Suffering Depression
by Gene Poole
Thoughts of suicide are nothing more than the wish to escape
HIGHEST SIDDHE, which is the power of creation itself. Our culture, which
is the living definition of 'dualism', relegates the power of creation to
'God'; yet, we all create our own individual dimension of reality via this
power of creation. I speak quite literally here, NOT metaphorically. The
'world-dream' gives us the pieces from which we then create our own
individual 'dream' or story.
Within this self-created story, we then attempt to create a power-source to
which we then assign the power of creation; this is "God". Ironically, the
"god" we create is the opposite of the 'satan' which is the devil of our
own karma. Within this self-created reality of 'dualism', any God or god or
escape or strategy will and can only be, the opposite of that which we have
already created. Thus, to escape one pole of our creation, we create the
opposite. This trap of DESIRE and aversion is the nature of the BIPOLAR
There is no answer to this dilemma to be found within the field of the
creation which is the manifestation of our highest SIDDHE-POWER; only the
voluntary suspension of creative power will allow the uncovering of the
underlyiing already-always of that which already is, which of course is our
original nature. Existing in the trap of our own creation, we have clear
evidence that nothing will ever succeed, that no plans are worth the
effort, and that death is the obvious solution to our dilemma; in a sense
this is true, but there is actually no escape from creation, except to own
it; to own creation is to understand just how to suspend the power of
Remember... just how the past-masters of Nonduality have stated repeatedly
to NOT become attached to ANY SIDDHE? Well... what I am saying here should
be obvious; that we create continually, as naturally as breathing, and as
compulsively and as needily as breathing, also. Our 'attachment' to
'reality' is what is going on here; we are very deeply addicted to the
SIDDHE of creation, to the extent that we hide it from ourselves, and
assign the responsibility to 'others' such as mom, dad, God, and Satan.
Them, we can blame and scapegoat, but as you know, such is merely an
ongoing hallucination, a refuge from what we have so carefully hidden from
ourselves that the acceptance of it is deemed to be the very betrayal of
the most basic roots of 'sanity' itself.
The absolutey UNTHINKABLE is the oposite of the 'world-dream'. That 'I am
God' is not true at all; I am not God because my creation of God is
entirely false. God has been created from pieces of desired or feared
aspects of the world-dream, claimed as our tribal heritage; and I am NOT
that God. I am God far beyond anyone's wildest dreams. I am the absolute
God of my own dimension, dream, or story; I am the only living Being in
existence in my own dimension. All 'others' are the apparently living
"interface with the living Universe", which is 'like' a giant machine which
inevitably obeys my every (conscious or unconscious) whim.
Chief among my 'whims' is the desire to 'fix it' or to 'make it right'
within the dream I dream, to 'rectify' my own creation, while persisting in
the act of denial that it is my own creation from beginninng to end. There
is no remedy for any ill to be experienced within my dream; dream-diseases
of course will respond to 'dream-medicine', but the COMPULSIVELY AND
UNCONSCIOUSLY EXERCISED power of the HIGHEST SIDDHE is the actual disease;
the addiction to the power of creation, the attachment to this greatest of
all SIDDHE, as warned against be the highest masters of consciousness, is
the actual disease. Only when this compulsive and addictive power of
creation is voluntarily suspended, will we understand the actual mechanics
of intention as the dynamic force which commands the vast living machine
which is the living universe itself.
As I Am the only living Being within the discreet dimension of my own
creation, so also are you a lone and isolated creator within your own
dimension of your own creation. You may feel this; you may also feel the
strange, movie-like flatness of the presence of so-called 'other people'.
Both feelings are accurrate; both feelings result from the cancellation of
the momentum of your own karma. You have a 'hot spot' to dwell within; this
is a blessed time for you, David. Momentum cancelled, machine being
revealed, you may now be groping futilly for the continuation of your "best
version" of your own dimension.
Be advised, that you can go that route. or you can sit still and
hallucinate the actuallity of the 'situation', which is this; you have been
creating reactively, in reaction to your own creation. That desire-aversion
ping-pong game will never stop, but it can be made harmless. To understand
that it is 'all the same thing' may be a good goal or exercise; I mean that
I would advise you to deliberately suspend any judgement whatsoever, thus
to allow a glimpse of the underlying mechanism which is the
'instrumentallity of reality itself' which is your will-power reactively
commanding a giant machine which can do anything _except_ give you the
will-power to stop using your own will-power.
It is possible to hallucinate 'reality' while we are 'dreaming in
unreality'; do you get this point? It is the calling for a literal
inversion of the deepest ingrained attachment of all, the attachmnent to
'making the dream better', which attachment covers-over the reality of the
creation and the vast living machine which impliments 'our' will-power. To
literally suspend the unconsciously exercised power of creation is to allow
'nirvana'; the statements of the 'masters' which state that we ' cannot
directly experience the nondual state' because there is 'literally no-one
there to experience it' are dead-wrong. I have news for everyone, but
addiction to the highest SIDDHE will always prove me 'wrong', time and time
I am saying that to suspend the highest SIDDHE is to exercise a type of
control so rare, so undefined, that it is unknown and thus unspoken. I
cannot 'uncreate' creation, but I can reveal the underlying machanism which
supports my SIDDHE. I can live consciouly in my own 'dream', harmlessly. I
can actually 'let go' of creation to the extent that I am able. I advise
you to think about this. I do not call for passivity; I call for abiding,
I can go about in my story, and I can love the characters whom I have
created. I can do this in awareness that I am always creating; I can also
let go of the power of creation. I am aware of the addictive nature of any
SIDDHE; and I am aware that culture is the living embodiment of denial of
our own Godhead. To be 'in' the world-dream while not being 'of' it is the
goal; to impliment this goal, consider that that the power of creation is
the highest SIDDHE. If we cannot let it go, we are stuck at that level of
Please remember that there can be no 'uncreating of creation'; there is no
'undo' command. But there is an alternative to 'quitting the program',
which is to abide the program. Please cultivate the awareness that you are
creating, from beginning to end; and that the puzzle you face has Self at
the center. Self, uncreated, is the reality in which all realty occurs. And
the knowledge-context of Siddhe and attachment is quite close to the actual
context which is the living interface with the instrumentation of creation
itself. It is big, alive, and friendly. I introduce you to it.
Gene Poole's Home Page
Hanging Out, Depression, Jesus, and Being
by David Hodges
Poetry is a form for the feeling of being alive. The
Langer said that.
It is a form. Words on paper, lines that stand by themselves, lines in
stanzas, stanzas with titles. Forms: sonnets, epics, lyrics, odes.
A form for the feeling. Feelings. Something elusive to capture in words.
You cant capture a feeling by naming it. I can name a feeling: love,
despair, praise, loss. But that doesnt give you the feeling. But a
A form for the feeling of being. Being. What is it that God gives us but
Being. God. In whom we live and move and have our being. Being. That which
underlies everything of which we are conscious and everything of which we
are not quite conscious but which rumbles beneath the surface of our lives
like a subway train under the streets of New York. That which rumbles in
our dreams, in our reveries, in our intuitions, our glimpses that we dont
quite notice while we are doing something else.
A form for the feeling of being Alive.
We are alive. Life. Life is about Being. Life is what happens to us while
we are getting ready to do something else (who said that?).
When we are young we hang out a lot waiting for our lives to start. We lie
on blankets on the sunny field talking and laughing, or reading books, or
writing in our journals. And someone starts goofing about something and the
group comes together in a moment of shared awareness hey, somethings
happening and then it dies down again and someone wanders off and someone
else arrives and we are hanging out in a group. Or we hang out by ourselves
connecting to the thing within us that searches for deeper meaning, for the
shape of something that will tell us what our life is all about.
And meanwhile Being is what is happening and we dont even notice what a
great Gift it is. And we read a poem and it tells us what went through the
poets mind and consciousness and awareness while the poet was hanging out
at his or her desk or on his or her blanket on some sunny field somewhere
or while the poet was sitting in a café with a cup of espresso, or while
the poet was sitting with a friend through a long evening of rambling
conversation, or while the poet was sitting by a lake, a big lake in the
White Mountains, or while the poet was insomniac in an apartment in New
York or New Haven or Boston. And we read this poem and we love it and we
dont know why and it is because we catch the feeling of being alive.
And this feeling saves us for a while. It saves us from doubt, from
despair. It saves us from loneliness and the urge to merge. It saves us
from the sense that our lives are more meager than our desires and our
dreams. When we are young we hang out a lot waiting for that salvation, a
salvation of meaning, a salvation in which we can tell ourselves that our
lives have meaning and purpose.
And in church they tell us about salvation and they dont really tell us
what we are being saved from, they use the word sin along with salvation
but we the language is too old and it doesnt resonate for a lot of us.
And when we are subject to depression we know what we need to be saved
from. We know it well because it is our constant companion. And we learn
all the ways to touch that salvation. Maybe it is by reading a poem that
connects us to the feeling of being alive. Maybe it is a phone call from a
friend, the kind of friend where you ramble when you talk, each voice
feeding the other as you drift through a chain of associations that becomes
the being of your lives, and when you look up an hour has passed, or two
hours, and you hang up and you have connected to your friend and you both
have experienced the feeling of being alive and you have been saved for
that hour, and for several hours and even days to come, by your friend.
And in church they tell you Jesus is that kind of friend, What a Friend we
have in Jesus we sing. All our griefs and sins to bear. And when we are
subject to depression we know about grief and we know what a friend means
to our grief. And in church they serve us communion and maybe sometimes
Jesus our friend becomes very real to us and sometimes maybe not, sometimes
we are more aware of the annoying way someone is coughing, or of the
failure of the minister to live up to the excellence of the minister who
left some years ago, sometimes we are more aware of the problems we brought
in, problems of money and career and marriage, problems of singlehood,
problems of our own emotions which are like a foreign country to us.
When we are subject to depression every day becomes an exercise in staying
alive. Every day becomes a challenge to get through. Every day becomes an
exercise in lasting until the next day, which seems so far away. Every day
becomes a series of holes which if we are not careful we can tumble into.
Holes of loss. Holes of anger and resentment. Holes of despair. Holes of
emotion. The biggest hole is the hole of giving up. The hole with the
seductive voice that says, why suffer any longer? Why go on this way? What
is the point?
Then we know what salvation would mean. Salvation is salvation from ourselves.
Then we get an email from a friend and we feel connected again. Or a phone
call. Or a stranger in a store is nice to us. Or something on TV makes us
laugh. And we connect to being again, Gods greatest gift, and we begin to
balance out, to find the still center, and our feelings recede and Hope
When we are older we dont hang out like the young ones do in big clumps.
We dont hang out that way, we hang out in our easy chairs in front of our
TVs. Now that our lives have taken shape, now that we know who we will be
married to, and what our children will be like, or now that we know that we
are not going to be married or have children, or now that we know where we
are going to live and who with or that we are going to live alone, know
that we know what our work will be, now that we know what has become of our
youthful dreams and what the ending of that story will be, we hang out in
front of our tvs, or at a café drinking coffee, or we hang out at church,
or we hang out at spiritual retreats, but we are still waiting for
something, we are still waiting for Being, for meaning, for the deep
feeling that we are alive, that we inhabit Gods greatest gift with grace
and purpose and fulfillment. We wait for that feeling, we dont always
connect to it. But we can because it is here now and it is always here only
we have been too busy looking for it to see it. We have been too busy
searching to find. We have been too busy looking for salvation to enjoy the
feeling which is always there and always available that we are already saved.
We already have Jesus our friend. Jesus our friend is the flow of Being in
Gods universe, and that flow comes to us from inside us and is nothing but
us only thinking gets in our way. Language gets in our way. Longing gets in
our way, and feelings of Loss.
And when we are NOT subject to depression we can create a story for
ourselves that will last for 10 years or 20 or 30. We can live within a
story that gives us meaning and purpose. I rose to this level in the
corporation. I wrote this story or danced this dance. I had these wonderful
children or I did this wonderful deed. Or I didnt do any of that but I
made a life for myself and I didnt hurt anyone and I made the best of what
I was given. And that story works for a while, for a long while but there
comes a day and for many it is the day we lie on our deathbed when we
realize what the real story was, and that real story was that we had the
great gift of Being and we lived it out.
The Bible talks about dust and ashes. When we are depressed we know about
dust, and we know about ashes. The depressed person pours ashes upon his
head and rolls in the dust, in a symbolic way of course. The depressed
person thinks about dust to dust, ashes to ashes and sees no way out. The
depressed person is someone whose story has fallen apart. The depressed
person is someone whose story no longer gives them salvation and no longer
keeps them balanced and tuned. The depressed person reaches that deathbed
moment a lot earlier in life than most people do, the moment when the Void
opens up, when Emptiness is realized, and then Grace happens and he or she
touches Being, the greatest gift and comes back to life.
I hate to say this but Religion is what brought me to the brink. I thought
that religion was the form within which I could have my life and my being
but instead religion took me to my cross and left me there to suffer. And I
prayed a deep prayer, a dangerous prayer. The prayer I prayed changed the
direction of my life forever. I prayed for God to take me deeper. Whatever
the cost. Take me deeper, God, whatever the cost.
Heres what the cost was: I lost the outward form of my religion. I lost my
marriage. I lost my career. I lost my innocence. And I was taken to the
depths. God honored that prayer. And I walked through the valley of the
shadow of death for many years. I walked through the wilderness and in a
symbolic way I went mad and went on all fours and ate wild grass like the
cattle and grew hair and became like a beast. In a symbolic way.
That was the cost but what I found made it worth it. I found that the void
has a flip side, and that flip side is Being. I found that at any given
time I could be in heaven, or I could be in hell, it was my choice. I found
that Reality is not a monolithic Black Iron Prison that constrains your
every move. Instead of the Black Iron Prison I found that reality is a
joyous construction of Spirit and has infinite variety and possibilities. I
found that hanging out is our true condition and that the place where we
hang out is on Gods back pasture where the sun shines and the river flows
and people are singing and playing and having fun.
I found that hanging out on Gods back pasture you see life going on in all
its variety, people being born and learning to walk and talk, I found
people growing up and learning about the world they happen to be in, I
found people learning to laugh and love, I found people dancing and crying,
people getting married and getting divorced, people getting sick and people
getting well, people dying unexpectedly, people being healed unexpectedly,
people getting lost and people getting found. And I found animals there
too, and butterflies, and bees, and fish leaping in the water of the
stream. And I sat by that stream where I could hear the sound of the water.
In a sense its all a game but in another sense it is all real. It is all a
vast elaborate pattern taking place in consciousness.
I never would have found my way to Gods back pasture if I hadnt fallen
into depression in the middle of the story of my life and for that I am
profoundly grateful. And I never would have lost my religion and found God
himself ceaselessly upholding the world with his word, God himself
ceaselessly being Being.
Such is MY poem for today.