It is all about the energy, showing up with a glean, with a song, a whistle, a prophesy of perfection, tapping into cosmic truths, levitating wonders.
Now, find that energy stream, the source of Merlin, the details on the edge of comets and shooting stars.
This day have so much fun you let the universe figure it out, you let the mind open up the gates of gaga and gala, and enter into a requiem, a standoff between good and evil, sorting through, chaffing gold from lead, pearls into more nuggets, the swilling of wine from a pigskin.
Doodad is the word, right below crawdad. Haiku and hyperbole are the rants of the day. Jimmy rigging and genuflecting as the Jabberwocky smears the headlines.
It is up to you to go up, to stay up, to live in sky-high ideas. Fly too close to the sun and you will develop wings of steel, of plastocene in a world of wax and wane, as the full moon rises and the sun sets at the exact same moment on the coast, let’s say Lompoc; ok, Santa Barbara, and say you pray and lay in the tall grass, because you need to hide out in the vastness.
When did you last…hide out in the vast? Or, stay near the “ness” part of Loch Ness, where that dinosaur-monster comes up from the deep waters, spilling sordid details and lackluster laments?
Energy is the key to high-thriving, so loosen up your grip on the esoteric, the ethereal parts that gauge the infinite.
Write some show-horse poetry with Mint Julep in hand. Drink some “white rum* in a Portugal bar” as you have sidebar conversations on a train in Europe, where you left Milano, as you slurp up a delightful, red clam sauce in solemn propriety watching the Italian Alps go by.
Give it your alms, your last ditch effort to complete a sentence that screws up all inflexions, butchers the rules of language, influences minds twisted around way too much convention, minds stilted in rhetoric and routine: Automatic piloting the short version of your life going by in techno-robot, AI protoplasm.
Come on man, ideas go extinct too. When was the last time you thought something profound and ancient taken from Plato’s republic, or dialogues with Krishnamurti: “Observing without evaluating is the highest form of intelligence.”
Energy, living above the minutia, crawling out of the morning dullness into the bright lights of shit-howdy, leaving town on the next train out, right after a gunfight you won. Yes, there is a lack of funding, a need for massive amounts of money for infrastructure. Yes, that is why there are no trains for a 500 mile radius.
Take a plane. Take a four-wheeler into the version and vision of tomorrow. Grapple with your own mind: Win at that outpost.
It is now time to quit this simple, overused excuse: Life gets in the way. No. You get in the way.
The Tao is the way; yet, again, an idea nearly extinct. Bring it back from the zoo of the past. Rebirth it into the very essence of who you are. What is your relationship to “time wealth,” to infinite progression, to the uncertainty principle from some 1960’s school documentary, an idea way beyond its time now lost in heart of the 21st century, completely gone in the year of 2525.
Be the light, the fulltime focus of “thrive-energy” that has meaning, purpose, a directive and direction for you.
Hell, I wish I knew the other “ands”… but they are there, like the scent of jasmine on the front porch, or shards of light shooting out of cloud shadows, likened to a rolling stone that gathers no moss, circa de 1968 when *Bob Dylan left his best poetic lyrics in some Mozambique tea dive.
Energy, your thrive-energy, your excitingly pure and hyped up enthusiasm is where you open up wormholes, portals to new worlds, ideas not yet gone awry, just this side of the event horizon, where that black hole is just beyond conception.
Use this cosmic energy, the dancing of the ancients, the wisdom of truth on fire, and you will be blessed with fun, sirens luring in sailing ships, all in massive proportions of bliss.
Grab this energy, this cosmic nuance and divine principle and —You Will Thrive Alive!