Friday, September 15, 2006

Brezny is a Boddhisattva

Rob Brezny writes the best horoscopes -- more like philosophical guideposts than predictions. He also is the author of Pronoia is the Antidote to Paranoia. What follows is a meditation from his book, which was emailed to me with my horoscope about a month ago. It's lots of fun and instructive. (My favorite part is the scientifically formulated affirmation. I recommend singing it out loud.)

BRAINSCRAMBLING by Rob Brezny

Relax. Put yourself in a comfortable position. Breathe deeply. Let the tension stream out of your head and neck and shoulders. Imagine that your worries are flowing out of you into the good earth below. Say "ahhhhh" in your softest tone.

Dissolve the constricted energy in your chest and belly and pelvis, and let it trickle away. Allow the stress in your legs and feet to evaporate. With each breath, send out a wave of love to your entire body. Relax even more deeply. Become aware that all of the disquiet within you is departing. Your knots are unraveling. Your congestion is dissipating.

Now close your eyes and imagine that it's a bright and warm summer day at the beach. You're sitting in a cozy chair. The sky is a deep, infinite blue. A balmy breeze caresses your cheeks. Your body feels strong and serene. You're in harmony with the flow of life. Look around you. See the sparkling white sand. Feel the gentle waves swirl around your ankles.

As you bask in this beauty and calm, imagine that you're reading the Wall Street Journal and listening to the soothingly riotous music of a klezmer polka band playing free-form jazz with a hip-hop beat. Nearby is a shopping mall you have recently bought and converted into a country club for poor people. A satellite phone and a wireless laptop are by your side because you must always be available to conduct late-breaking business deals, buy or sell stocks, or give spiritual advice.

Amazing but true: You are both a billionaire and a wise counselor. This blend of wealth and sagacity has led you to become a philanthropic healer. Through cash donations and gifts of insight, you have helped thousands of people transform themselves into gorgeous geniuses skilled at expressing their souls' codes.

Relax even more deeply. Tune in to the understanding that you are a furiously curious soul full of orgiastic compassion for everything alive. You are an ongoing experiment in lyrical logic, a slow explosion of uncanny delight, a sacred agent devoted to breaking the taboo against feeling crafty joy.

Now say this: I have only barely imagined the blessings that await me. As interesting and as full as my life is, I'm ready for it to become even more so.

With this declaration, you have given the future permission to transform you into a more awakened version of yourself than you ever knew was possible.

Continue your cooperation with the glorious fate that's coming your way. Speak the following affirmations, which have been scientifically formulated to free you of all rigid beliefs that might cause stupidity:

I kick my own ass and wash my own brain.
I push my own buttons and trick my own pain.
I burn my own flags and roast my own heroes.
I mock my own fears and cheer my own zeroes.

Nothing can stop me from teasing my shadow.
I'm full of empty and backwards bravado.
My wounds are tattoos that reveal my true beauty.
I turn tragic to magic and make bliss my duty.

I honor my faults till they become virtues.
I play jokes on my nightmares till I'm sure they won't hurt you.
I sing anarchist lullabies to lesbian trees
and love songs with punch lines to anonymous seas.

I won't accept gifts that infringe on my freedom

I shun sacred places that stir up my boredom.
I change my name daily, pretend to be nobody.
I fight for the truth if it's majestically rowdy.

Gravity fucks me and I fuck it back.
The sun is my sex slave, the moon smokes my crack.
I pump up my conscience with idiot laughter.
I'm living happily, in love ever after.

I brag about what I can't do and don't know.
I take off my clothes to those I oppose.
I'm so far beyond lazy, I work like a god.
I'm totally crazy; in fact that's my job.

It's all true. You're completely wacko. Throbbingly, succulently, shimmeringly insane. And that's good news.

This understanding frees you up to sing in the acid rain and cultivate global warming in your pants.
You are in prime condition to study the difference between stupid insecurity and smart insecurity until you get it right.
You realize beyond a doubt that everyone who believes in the devil is the devil.
You feel a longing to stick out your tongue and cross your eyes and put on your most beautifully ugly face as you sneak up on yourself from behind and whisper "boo!"
And you see the healthy wisdom of now and then inserting into your conversations the following quote, uttered by the Baron in the film The Adventures of Baron Munchausen:
"Your reality, sir, is lies and balderdash, and I'm happy to say I have no grasp of it whatsoever."

And congratulations. Every cell in your perfect animal body is beginning to purr with luminous gratitude for the enormity of the riches you endlessly receive. You are becoming aware that each of your heart's beats originates as a gift of love directly from the Goddess herself. Any residues of hatred that had been tainting your libido are leaving you for good. You are becoming telepathically linked to the world's entire host of secret teachers, pacifist warriors, philosopher clowns, and bodhisattvas disguised as convenience store clerks.

In other words, you're on the verge of d├ętente with your evil twin. And you're ready to submit to a multiple-choice test, which goes like this:

How does it make you feel when I urge you to confess profound secrets to people who are not particularly interested? Does it make you want to:

a. cultivate a healthy erotic desire for a person you'd normally never be attracted to in a million years;

b. stop helping your friends glamorize their pain;

c. imitate a hurricane in the act of extinguishing a forest fire;

d. visualize Buddha or Mother Teresa at the moment of orgasm;

e. steal something that's already yours.

The right answer, of course, is any answer you thought was correct. Congratulations. You're even smarter than you knew.

To seal your victory, repeat the following affirmation: "Stressed" is "desserts" spelled backward.

Now remain here for a while in this state of supernatural relaxation. As you begin to return to normal waking consciousness, don't return to normal waking consciousness. Instead, practice feeling the confidence that you can invoke the scent of wild honey in a sunlit meadow any time you feel an urge to.

In honor of your enhanced power to be yourself, I hereby reward you with a host of fresh titles. From now on you will be known as the Senior Vice President of Strawberry Fields and Hummingbirds, and the Deputy Director of Green Lights and Purple Hearts. Consider yourself, as well, to be the new Puzzle-Master Supreme, the Chief Custodian of Secret Weapons, and Field Commander of Free Lunches and Poetic Licenses.

No comments: