A bodhisattva walks with two wings of wisdom that sees clearly and compassion that acts kindly. Bodhicitta sets the aim, vows hold it steady, and daily practice turns it into life. Fourteen living vows guide the heart to stay pure. From this ground Dharmakaya, the enlightened mind vast and compassionate, shines as the truth of our being.
At the end of the journey, names and symbols fall away. The last guardian appears as shadow, yet even demons are knots of life seeking release. Wisdom rests in silence, compassion moves in action. Light needs vessel: breath, food, sleep, kindness. The hero returns not to escape the world but to live it—softness over force, presence over illusion, here and now.
So it starts once more. The mind has thoughts, the ocean has waves. Go deeper, into silence, into the seventh sky within. The system rewards masks and punishes the real, yet true change begins inside. When pretending rises, suffering rises. When authenticity rises, suffering falls. Abundance is the living exchange of all things, here and now.
Rhiannon’s lesson lives in us. When blame twists care into shame, the Mother and the Horse split: strength turns to mute labor, love becomes a public load. Truth returns with the child and the sentence ends. Mother and Horse join again. We carry only what is ours, protect the tender life within, and walk through the open gate with steady eyes. Hope. Trust. Progress. And go. The gate is open. Go on
A woman clothed in sun rises within — a symbol of the soul giving birth through pain, fire, and silence. We meet our shadows, let go of ego, and step into the divine drama. In a world of AI, bombs, and genes, the real work remains within: to see clearly, care widely, and act from a quiet center. The next becoming begins when we dare to look inward.
Nietzsche’s three transformations—the camel, the lion, and the child—symbolize the journey of the spirit. First we submit and learn (camel), then rebel and claim our will (lion), and finally become free and creative (child), like a wheel rolling from its own center. This cycle reveals how true individuality is born from discipline, struggle, and self-mastery.
Face down on the floor, breath snagged between pain and memory, a sentence rose: “Joke represents requirement.” The absurdity of life presses in—the joke. You breathe, find your center—that’s represent. Then act — requirement. Maneuver through madness without losing yourself. Some laugh, some break, some do both. But the move must come, always. When the joke becomes the requirement.
Let go of every name, every role. Mother, father, son—burn them too. No God to chase, no non-duality to hide in. Thought can’t escape thought. What remains is breath, dirt, hunger, presence. The next honest act. Life needs no symbol, no meaning—just clear eyes and clean hands. Let each idea die on time. No shrine left. Just you, alive.
When the mind scurries like a mouse, breathe and feel the silent AUM rise. Invite the inner elephant to hold the reins. Name the trigger, wait, speak from the belly. Ego relaxes, humour returns, tasks find rhythm. Life turns to cosmic play. Practice daily and the calm leader grows within. Others feel the harmony, adjust pace, and quiet change spreads. Leela awakens one psyche at a time.
This piece explores the deep feminine force moving through all life beyond gender, inviting us to embrace what we have shamed or neglected. Through the symbols of rot, renewal, the Fire Rabbit, and the ladybird, it reminds us that authenticity arises when we embody our true nature with fearless instinct and quiet grace.
