the edit.

Listen

Alright.
I don’t care if its cloudy or bright.
Are there stars out tonight?
I only have eyes for you.
I only have eyes for you.

We’re approaching the main zikr hall here at Lake of the Ozarks. Camp Rising Sun. Sufi Camp. Spring 2007.
You recognize my voice. It’s your voice. Who am I to say that? Well, I don’t know. Leave that up to you. And of course I’m talking to me too, because I’m, through the magic of this telecommunication, in my own audience.

Ho.
So we stand here in a sacred space. And I’m sharing my thoughts with myself and with you. Standing in a scared space. I wanna share some thoughts on the wall they’ve written. And they’ve left some pens for others to write with. Maybe before the night is out, I will write.
Alright.
They say.
And I’ll just try to say.
Thoughts without words, without bounds.
It feels like home.
Deeper we dive into that field where we all meet.
These are thoughts that people had here in the past two days.
Let my heart reflect thy light, as the moon reflects the light of the sun. In love, always in love.
Life is good. All the time. Thank you life.
And thank you for creating the space this space the space for us to love in.
Deeper into the heart of love.
Nature.
We appreciate the quiet of our cabin mates, and loved the opening dances last night. Amazing meditation practice with Nuria. Thank you so much.
Someone expresses Luck of the Irish.
The ocean refuses no river, and I am in love.
These are not my words folks, and you’ve heard me talk this crazy love words. Because no longer a stranger you stay up all night and listen to these crazy love words. That brings me back to where I started. Stay up all night. Listen to the conversation.

Letting go into the mystery.
Letting go into the mystery.
Come to the Source of all Life.
Gather peace.
Fill your cup.
Offer blessings. Plural. Offer blessings.
Gather peace.
Fill your cup.
Offer blessings.

The dance goes on in mystery.
It will go on in mystery.
It has been going on in mystery.
This is just my history. And my hystericism. Who minds a little hystericism in their voice, in their step, in their march to a different drummer.
Who’s my drummer. Oh, am I in harmony with that which has definition, no? That is no definition. Try solving that it’s a tight knot tied around my throat. I’ve been untying intellectual knots all my life, and the bag is empty so I open another knot, why not? A face. A beautiful face twists with the poisonous nail of thinking. A golden spade sinks into a pile of shit.
Don’t forget. Don’t forget. You do not own this house. You rent it. And underneath there’s a mine of rubies and emeralds. Because I don’t know if they come together or not but red and green sound good. Make it Christmas.
Hey, you’ve got to dig here. Underneath. You don’t own it but dig and find it and find it, and find it, then you can buy the house and own the deed.

Ok. Now we read the wall again.
Come, and celebrate the reunion of lovers. We are one family, one body of light. Here among us there are no strangers, only friends, so reach out and take a hand.

It is amazing what’s been happening in my life. And we are grateful to the All Gracious.

Oh, sacred, sacred spaces. Thank you. Thank you.
The soul at dawn is like darkened water that slowly begins to say: Thank you. Thank you.
The gratitude wells up.
And let me tell you what they told me today. They told me, Josh, when you sense fear, you know your fear is about something that’s beautiful, or something that’s perfect, you’re afraid it will disappear, you’re afraid you’ll shatter it. And of course you can with your mind. But if instead of dwelling with fear you allow that fear instantly to turn to gratitude for the beauty and the perfection you’re afraid will disappear and destroy, you will find, perhaps, what the teacher spoke of today. Teacher said: Each moment, if completely within you, has everything you need and you find that you are what you need to be in the moment.

Oh. Ok.
Spurned.
Will I end up there?
Where that which I’ve been hunting
starts hunting me?
Will I end up there?
In that place where
that which I have been wanting
is wanting me?
Of course. Of course Of course Of course. Don’t worry. Don’t worry.
Only know that the longing will grow.
Only know that the mystery is deeper.
Only know that the things that you are a seeker of
will always draw you further into love.
You are a seeker of love.
And love will draw you on and on into the mystery.
You’ll let go into the mystery.
You don’t know. You don’t know. You don’t know the mystery.
The history is. The history is what you use it for.
The history. The history is what you make of it.
You know what I mean. You’ve been there. You’ve been there. So many of you have been there.
The mystery. I don’t know it.
...
I don’t even know if I hunger and thirst.
But I know the desire is deepening.
I know the longing is deepening.
And how do you know? How do you know?
Well, these signs I just mentioned.
That you stay up all night, wanting, and your neck gets thin like a spindle.
That you give away everything you own.
And that you go out like a battered helmet to meet a blade, many times.
These signs.
But you run around looking into stranger’s eyes, and you say forgive me, I am a madman, but you say forgive me, I have lost a friend. And that kind of searching cannot fail. There will come a rider who holds you close.
You faint and gibber.
The uninitiated, and I don’t know who, the uninitiated. But the scoffers, they say he’s faking.
They must not know.
This rider holds you close.
This rider holds you close.
You live where Shams does because your heart donkey was strong enough to get you there.
Shams choose to live low in the roots for you,
so now he soars as your sublimely articulating love.
Of course, of course he choose to live low in the roots for you, and there was a little, a little, trauma there, in the roots, in the roots, cause that’s where the light comes in. The wound, the opening, that is where the light comes in. And the light is there. Anyone, anyone to deny the reality of light? Yah Noir, Yah Manoir, the beacon light and the light, the clear light.
Do I know what I’m going to say next?
Does the ball in play have an idea that its going to be thrown this way or that way?
I don’t know what I’m going to say.

Level... favorite one right now.
Pull back the lock bolt.
Level melts into level.
The passionate pots boil.
Poets fume shreds of steam,
never so happy as out in the light.
Poets fume the shreds of the steam,
never so happy as out in the light.
And here we are in the light by the grace. We were called and asked to come. We were going to miss this whole experiment, experiment in consciousness, experience, a remembering again, a zikr. And sometime, maybe I’ll remember enough to keep remembering. Maybe I’ll remember enough to keep remembering.
La il la ha il Alllah.
La il la ha il Alllah.
La il la ha il Alllah.
Iscq ga la ma bu lay la il Allah.
The ocean refuses no river, no river.
The ocean refuses no river, no river.
Look, fish, we’re already in the ocean.
Just to be friends with the sea is the best of luck.

And Rumi says buy something, in the spiritual treasure house. Buy something, even if you’re not sure what you want, it doesn’t suit you or something, but you want to be part of the exchanging flow. Another place he says, go ahead, start a huge foolish project like Noah. It makes absolutely no difference what people think of you.
What? What? What? What?
Oh, we better not let this one out.
Put the bag over this one, the dark bag so you won’t see it.
It’s the next to the last song.
There isn’t a big dance scene.
It’s the next to the last song.
The band is not playing,
It’s the next to the last song
I am singing for you.
I am singing the next to the last song.
It will not last long,
the next to the last song
It will be gone, gone, long gone.
[coughs]