Teaching in London 14/15 April.

Drop me a line if interested.


pining for a future that never arrived
Gadfly ethics.
Haunted by memories that never (quite) happened, memories honed and polished by the Internal, its work, which is never (quite) right, into beacons of that Internal, to serve (in a whirlwind) as lures, in one sense stable, monolithic, distant, and, in another, evanescent, shimmering, fleet, so immediate as to be threatening.
The difference between heart and mind: Out of sight out of mind / Absence makes the heart grow fonder.


searching for techniques through which to decondition ourselves from orthodoxies

To have any success with the Internal you must become a poet.
Laughing, tough and lonesome.


Entities are so incredibly … themselves. Yet in this selfsameness they are weird, self-transcending. The chiasmic, contrary motion of what things are and how they appear makes a mockery of presence. Things emit uniqueness. They bristle with specificity. Purple, pale violet, light blue, their soft and sharp spines and flower-spines bristle forth despite me and my subject-object scissions. This flickering between a thing and its appearance is the reason why coexistence can’t be holistic. Something is always missing. My self-awareness is a sense of incompletion.
The work is all about remembering. Remembering that I am alive and that I will die.

Literally 'call to mind' from re (intensive) + Latin memor 'mindful'

Many live under the presumption that happiness is just around the corner, that a change of fortune is all that's required: meeting my soulmate, winning the lottery, a promotion, a holiday in the sun, a baby, future enlightenment, whatever; all to do with feeling unhappy now because I don't quite have what I want. And yet experience repeatedly tells me that the happiness of wish-fullfilment is shallow, short-lived and anti-climactic to say the least. That the thrill of the chase made me happier than catching and having what I was chasing. Real happiness comes from active engagement rather than from winning. Everything required, not just for happiness but for complete enlightenement is here, right now, if only I awaken to it AND engage it. Real happiness is always creative, active, interested, and interesting, and yet the deeper I become, the richer my internal life, the less I need to do to be creative and to be active. Being becomes becoming and becoming is being.
Comedy: the genre of coexistence.
Mind in dantien is the energetic equivalent of worry. A persistent nagging in the background (25% of the mind always in dantien) that prevents me settling into self; that keeps me trembling on the edge.
Thoughts are not bad in themselves; only when heeded.


Because of interconnectedness, it always feels as if there is a piece missing. Something just doesn’t add up.

Repetition does not lead to boredom, but rather to an uncanny sense of refreshment.