tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-203149422012-01-31T09:32:59.277-08:00Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.comBlogger411100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-40759487915914696172010-01-21T12:37:00.000-08:002010-01-21T12:39:48.991-08:00

(Hello friends. A riverrun is one way I make sense of the wild currents of being coursing through my sense instrument. Once I jump into the river I close my eyes and write without pause, without thought. My usual practice is to follow the neural impulse into movement, into cycles of polar essence, contraction/expansion. Keeping my hands on a keyboard in this process creates an interesting

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-9184994009697862922009-12-29T08:54:00.001-08:002009-12-29T08:54:53.140-08:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-6348751896727623202009-12-26T21:49:00.000-08:002009-12-26T21:49:12.867-08:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-31000476876072097612009-12-26T17:56:00.001-08:002009-12-26T17:56:29.460-08:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1788314494577858102009-12-21T09:45:00.000-08:002009-12-21T09:45:40.380-08:00

Traveling upon earth's axial tilt Through solar winds To galaxies of wonder and awe Awakening imaginative soul.

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-45468797392595663322009-12-18T17:05:00.000-08:002009-12-18T17:06:54.694-08:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-72009357364630751692009-12-10T09:43:00.000-08:002009-12-10T09:48:08.949-08:00

The lake is as still as I have ever seen it, a clear mirror reflecting the lights of Queen Anne hill. It is late and cold, the half hidden moon resting behind a translucent, thin curtain of clouds. From my perch on the fourth floor deck I gaze out in quiet delight over the rows of houseboats below. I am as still as the lake's surface, held in the trance of beauty's gaze nested in a surrounding

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-77618111500619139002009-12-07T19:19:00.001-08:002009-12-07T19:26:04.962-08:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-7776565758677957012007-08-09T20:41:00.000-07:002009-12-07T15:12:50.909-08:00

sourceI awaken around 2am, get dressed and head out into the Palouse fields. Gracie is a bit confused at first, but happily follows along. I stop on a slope next to a young pondersosa pine about 13 feet high. A bright moon about 3/4 full is high in the sky, a bit to the south. A steady breeze with a touch of coolness blows from the west. My weight sinks into the earth, my skeleton a bridge

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-84374339636954264732007-07-05T00:36:00.000-07:002007-07-05T00:49:21.137-07:00

The last touch of light warms my spine, my skin soaking in the angled rays. Pondersosa shadows lengthen on the upward slope across the Palouse river. Gracie sits by my feet, wanting to stay close this evening, frightened by the fireworks. I am standing in a long sliver of light, my shadow scattered on the leaves and limbs of the apple tree growing near the porch. I feel awake and centered, alive

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-45112648373730787062007-06-04T23:00:00.000-07:002007-06-04T23:14:58.341-07:00

Shapes of bliss forming this charge in an electrical storm of possibility guiding light through cloudbanks bouncing upon a northeast horizon. Spine turns in memory of spin's grin repeating embodied mantras of luminous proportion. Releasing into flow aligned with a slow throw of knowing, allofus turning towards a branching spray of delight drenching eyes in spiral columns of lifewind reaching to

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-64283114557580958632007-03-19T10:04:00.001-07:002007-03-19T10:04:51.754-07:00

a soft knowing flow alignmentmagma > earth > me > moon > sun spinning out waves of being as expansive spaceturning through core burning through core holdingelectrical-chemical-habitual chargeflows cranking identity down as repetition of desire a core yearning this burning turn halos my rise through golden folds of funneled flow all lines align, all waves awakenwhat might we share as expansive

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-86240224633589656492007-02-13T19:00:00.000-08:002007-02-13T19:01:19.446-08:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1169487914836498102007-01-22T09:44:00.000-08:002007-01-22T09:45:14.850-08:00

Finding stillness in the quiet of night I surrender to the soft sounds and rhythms pulsing through the depths of my being. Moved by an internal animation of subtle sensation spreading from my heart through my core to my limbs I begin to voice an essence of motion rotating gently upon forces of eternity. Cradled in an effortless flow I spin through the Madrona grove and off the high, crumbling

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1157383763361131992006-09-04T08:28:00.000-07:002006-09-04T08:29:23.390-07:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1157344007433247272006-09-03T21:23:00.000-07:002006-09-03T21:26:47.446-07:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1154890346190247072006-08-06T11:49:00.000-07:002006-08-06T11:55:13.736-07:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1154195700619032892006-07-29T10:53:00.000-07:002006-07-29T11:04:10.823-07:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1149962670689015342006-06-10T11:03:00.000-07:002006-06-10T11:04:30.716-07:00

A call to alignment!A gathering of root gurusoffering blessings of energetic resonanceshapes the devotional tones encircling my furthest reach.A mandala of great bliss,a centering intensity of wholeness,guides intention through sense into action.Friends of symmetry shine as solar nodes holding soul’s fold.

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1149506311198353062006-06-05T04:14:00.000-07:002006-06-05T04:18:31.570-07:00

A sensible Middle calls forth and backs up and beyond ego-effort’s ability to sustain his continuing argument. Overlapping tones slide into coherent creativity, a waveringmatrix of light doming nodes of knowing, knowing modes of doing flowing easily as being blue sky eyes. What’s the point of grasping onto your in-divi-dual lines when it becomes plane and simple to resonate in a centering

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1149447298283390452006-06-04T11:47:00.000-07:002006-06-04T11:56:30.936-07:00

soft limbs branching about the Reach, swaying towards contact with the soft underbelly of knowing flow. who chooses to handle these objects from inside an expanded perspective? a cupped pressure shapes time like dough rolled into balls of white light. little bits from yesterdays are added to the mix, now this, now then, mixed in a ready-to-rise loaf of chewy choice. a nourishing essence of warm

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1146740912327104342006-05-04T04:07:00.000-07:002006-05-04T04:09:22.866-07:00

Spin-eyed depthtwo becoming three

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1146193253958611522006-04-27T20:00:00.000-07:002006-04-27T20:00:53.960-07:00

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1144523410793561472006-04-08T11:28:00.000-07:002006-04-27T20:00:17.683-07:00

The river is high and muddy with spring melt. Flattened grasses along the bank point downstream, evidence of last month’s deeper flow. I am in a hidden meadow on the inside curve of a sharp bend. At flood’s peak a month or so ago, water snuck across the bend in a shortcut, leaving channels two to three feet deep, four to five feet across. I’m walking in one of these now, moving to and fro along

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1144272193055603072006-04-05T13:56:00.000-07:002006-04-05T14:29:42.516-07:00

listening to a subtle pullreleasing the 10,000 holdingsallowing a singular directionfollowing pull’s flow to the gate. . .waiting at the bottom of a breath. . .re-releasing all but this single thread. . .trembling through time’s timbrecoloring deep breaths of waving integrationas devotion to vast relatedness floats us homeweaving luminous threads of relationopening a soul stream of vivid bonding

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1143808576779504902006-03-31T04:28:00.000-08:002006-04-02T15:22:52.826-07:00

Sitting here watching the incoming waves. . . Sensing into my upright efforts, listening to gravity's whisper of weight and history and life’s force. I’m somewhere not quite awake and yet the ocean seems real enough. Perhaps I’m tasting the interface between physical and quantum realities, my sense of self tumbling as uncertainty, the spin direction of my electrons orbiting in the external

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1141973041652215462006-03-09T22:43:00.000-08:002006-03-09T22:44:01.653-08:00

It is BornHere I came to the very edgewhere nothing at all needs saying,everything is absorbed through weather and the sea, and the moon swam back, its rays all silvered,and time and again the darkness would be brokenby the crash of a wave, and every day on the balcony of the sea, wings open, fire is born, and everything is blue again like morning. Pablo Neruda

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1141841832694561352006-03-08T10:14:00.000-08:002006-03-08T10:17:12.706-08:00

There is a way which is supremely effective. Just look at yourselfas you are, see yourself as you are, accept yourself as you are,and go ever deeper into what you are. --Nisargadatta Maharaj

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1141683349704336912006-03-06T14:09:00.000-08:002006-03-09T22:40:22.913-08:00

I’m wondering what patterns and proportions effectively support the rise of a relational field. What organizational factors generate favorable conditions for a spontaneous emergence of source intelligence? Certainly a coherent field of living complexity cannot be designed or planned into existence, but there must be recursive sequences generating patterns nesting our waves as harmonic

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1141282004762741602006-03-01T22:44:00.000-08:002006-03-01T22:49:54.896-08:00

A fluid masterynavigating nodes of being,knowing radiant vertices.Gravity’s pull to wholenessopening flow as a going know,a gentle action centering forth life’s luminous edge.

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1141038556905813892006-02-27T03:04:00.000-08:002006-03-06T14:45:07.156-08:00

a re-enchantment curls upon open waves of unfolding flow. wonder slips through the window filling the room with light and a curving sense of emergent life. a gentle repetition urges soul awake building fields of deep knowing. limbs spin. eyes rise. a splashing dance sings upon an endless ocean.an emergent surge dances my bliss awake, turning time into expansive space with rich, dark red

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1140436695376064022006-02-20T03:56:00.000-08:002006-02-20T03:59:39.506-08:00

Essence curls about her knowing in a nested spin toan enlivened center proportioning holy wholes witheffortless abandon. An enraptured witness settlesdown into a giggling squiggle of inadequate words.Where to turn from here? Who will turn with me?

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1140332314165542412006-02-18T22:57:00.000-08:002006-02-18T22:58:34.183-08:00

Emergent tones rise as music through fluid cells, orbiting sounds spinning a quiet bliss, moments of grace reshaping motion’s mind

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1140322145635714612006-02-18T20:07:00.000-08:002006-02-18T20:10:01.026-08:00

I am transformed in the beauty of his stillness, an elemental purity rising through a oneness of spirit's unending radiance, an unfolding soulfulness opening through my chest into a soft sadness suspended in my throat. My gaze is intense and complete, my longing bridging the distance between us. He curls inward taking his ankles in his hands, the soles of his feet balancing the blue of the sky.

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1140272244596531752006-02-18T05:56:00.000-08:002006-02-18T06:18:54.063-08:00

Pulsing through torso,collapsing right into story's churn, a full curving flexion, left behind,struggles towards completionSubtle rhythms of frozen musicloop threads of identity and gesture,charge shocked into memory's magnetic corerepeating yesterday's heatin dynamics of slow demiseand stillAn echoing stillnessresonates through a golden chamberas a sudden depth of breathaligning harmonic tonesin

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1140114508649375072006-02-16T09:51:00.000-08:002006-02-16T14:01:44.793-08:00

Over at Chris Corrigan's Webl I've been in a conversation found in the comment box of this post. I wanted to dive deeper into a question Chris Weaver asks. . .is opening space for you an opening practice, and is there a moment for you when this is complete and then awakening space can begin?This question takes me to a place where language begins to get tangled in nots of knot-knowing. Consider my

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1139926620540620592006-02-14T05:34:00.000-08:002006-02-14T06:45:25.960-08:00

Motion’s tone nesting wavesin golden braids awakening spaceas a branching spray of life

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1139715056777394452006-02-11T19:28:00.000-08:002006-02-11T19:36:15.856-08:00

When you put a thing in order, and give it a name,and you are all in accord, it becomes. –Navajo saying

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1139566383042492662006-02-10T02:12:00.000-08:002006-02-11T10:06:23.050-08:00

What is your experience of knowing? I’m talkin’ the kind of deep, authentic knowing that pulls you into a Vortex of Certainty spinning you right past dizzy into bliss, the quality of knowing that slows time’s turn, expanding (y)our field into a pure, luminous Mind of Essence? What do you need to know knowing now? Who knows? choosing, thomas

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1139563791277135152006-02-10T01:26:00.000-08:002006-02-11T10:07:37.223-08:00

space awakensin cascading currentsof vision seeking forma nested knowinga blue fire risinga golden curvepace embraced, thomas

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314942.post-1135885932945019582005-12-29T11:49:00.000-08:002006-02-11T10:08:06.440-08:00

My week of solitude in the Palouse comes to a close. It’s been a blessing to have this complete freedom to sink into my rhythms. I feel like a river in Spring flood splashing through the valley. I’m finding delicious depths of dimension in the arising forms of my practice. The bliss of being keeps expanding; tone ripples through Silence, a gentle pulse nesting a soft wetness of life within a blue

Thomas Arthurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03026634854734346367noreply@blogger.com0