EcoTherapy grows primal identity,
we are only, and always, integrity’s cooperative potential.
All else creates fantasy, illusion, myth,
both dissonant and resonant narratives
unfolding cultural nutrients,
hidden within history’s hard-bound revolutionary covers.
Create optimal identity dimming ego’s dissonance.
Incarnate resonant revolution
as silence invites ringing waves of rhythm.
A 1952 vintage Connecticut dormered Cape Cod
painted stark bleached white
with slick jet-black shutters,
hyperbolizing a deep racial minority
statement,
well, issue really,
in my mind of similar vintage
and incarnational permaculture,
conceived in bold ripe August,
born in bullish economy of May..
So, I painted her.
Wrapped my arms
and rolled around her
in turquoise sea,
and sky blue,
with rain-cloud grey trim,
so she might be less afraid
and so might I.
Born into late millennial Yang,
reconnecting and reweaving with each other
during trans-millennial now,
how will we transform our economic options
to full diversity and springtime
string-rhymed
polycultures of May?
We grow transformed,
reframed to coincidentally cooperate our octaves of color
and sound
feeling and mind
Yin and Yang,
concavely conceived,
convexly displaying economic ecological
principles of mindfulness as coincidental noticing,
advent of winter’s grateful hibernation,
enthymematically aptic communication
inducing measured calculations back through RNA-regenerating
origin of living systems.
Deductive Left-brained dominance need not apply for comprehension,
unless,
balanced by summer’s yangish nutritional bullish market,
hope of fruitful outcomed spring,
then summer’s faithful following
of full polyculturing
permacultured information root system
formating strings and tendrils
cooperatively absorbing nutrient Spring’s and sprouts consumption,
to produce within life-sustainably proportional karmic response
to yang/yin coincidental rich deep ecologically efficient,
and inclusively effective for full speciating diversity,
principles,
values,
norms,
nutrient cooperative economics,
that might actually be logical,
because they are ecological.
These, harvested permaculturally optimized
positive analogical and ecological,
digital and atomic,
temporal and spatial,
linear dynamic Open Set Universe String
AND
Polynomial Closet Set Prime Relationship
aptic-temporal
neural frequency and flow,
balanced bicameral logos-logic:
P=NP because
Left-brained information language
thermodynamically balanced with 3 spatial dimensions
covering 1 equivalent temporal-linear dimension
Commons Economic Balance Assumption
=
(0) Core Vector [B. Fuller and Euler] =
(+) e-function =
+space/(-)(-)time =
space-time-squared =
+1 magnetic balanced QBit quark-function
OVER
(-)(0) QBit
So, all that going on,
more or less,
in our dominant Left hemisphere newer speciated DNA-brain,
AND Right-brained non-linguistic and non-polynomial
intuitive intelligence codes memory dipolar and
coincidentally confluent
(harmoniously proportional flow/frequency neural pattern recognition)
(0) Core Vortex =
(-)(-) [not-polynomial dipolar stricture–implicate order] (D. Bohm).
So,
putting all that mess together,
more or less confluently and permaculturally,
+Polynomial-Yang =
(-)(-)Yin (-1 QBit) Nonpolynomial
intuitive temporal-linear-neural balanced
Optimized Information Permacultured String.
Unfortunately,
now that my home and I are parting ways,
I’m finally noticing that even my friends and family
don’t particularly care for our change of color
and culture.
It’s still kind of a hard sell,
this more colorful permaculture
of community
and economy,
and identity,
and design.
Must be time for adventurous reincarnating revolutions
or we will remain merely ahead of our own non-polynomial ending time.
Time opens space’s liturgical rite of passage.
Space coincidentally reincarnates time’s
4 equivalent ecological dimensioned order.
Positrons incarnate,
inform negative-linear
4-dimensional equivalent dipolar time.
There is no such thing as non-polynomial time or space
or information,
other than negative binomial time
(implicate ordered Right-brain reverse synchronic-aptic coded).
+P (+1QBit) = (-)(-)P =
+/(-)0 Core binary e-function
Prime Core Electromagnetic Balancing Binary-Binomial QBit.
Spring springs polyculture economics
composting through dark and winterish minds and forms and functions,
still looking for greatest inclusive nutrient yield
without suffering dissonantly wilting loss,
cooperatively flying our regenerative kites
co-id/eco-entity tied with time’s river of flowing
informating memory strings.
I know,
you were wondering when
I would finally conclude
with the sex part.
Yang holds mashed potato mountain space
for Yin to diastolically fill
with life-yeast regeneration’s mysteriously familiar spire,
born of Yangform Space and Yinfunction diametric Time.
Yang grows Left’s deductive mountain,
Yin reflective mirrored through Right’s inductive smooth deep sea,
where mountainous heavens meet cavernous Earth
we grow bicameral sacred skin
incubating ecological economies,
exchanging equivalent (0)-sum
win-win breaths and beats
and flowing coincidental minds
of peaceful confluence.
Within our still emergent speciating sea of mindfulness,
Right-mind prehends our supereco mountaintop,
piercing up and out toward Northern skies,
and ego id-entity as mountain’s boundary skin
of Self meets Other
swimming in a deeply composting
lotus-flowered root system,
informing sap rising from
Earth’s dark Prime Relationship Tao center
to cooperatively feed our healthiest needs
and noble wants of wisdom.
Our passion grows planetary,
and coincidentally emergent.
Learning grows logical
rational
accessible to both Self and Other;
evaporates into dissonance
without coincidental incarnation,
madness and wildness.
EcoSelf consciousness develops
coincidental experience,
awareness,
comprehension
of our ego-eco balancing identity
as bionic information processors
of form-bits essentially binomial,
mutually mentoring bows of gratitude
implied, then explicating, emerging
elliptical convex Yang eruptions
on Earth’s evolving skin,
filled with yeasting metaphysical Yin-Codex
concavely unfolding polycultural paradigms and memes,
logos and mythos,
growing out and merging,
synergizing ego-id and Gaia’s superego,
Left and Right confluent experience,
incident, rhetorical and experiential events,
deduced coincidence optimizing intuitively positive
teleo-ecological multisystemic identity.
Half of Freud’s mental health
uncovered id-ego learning to resolve,
emerging resonance with Other Half of mindful well-being,
super-eco’s redeemer economics,
exchanging win-lose cognitive dissonance
for win-win ecological coincidence of lives
and mindful consciousness.
Meta-enculturating diastasis
optimizes Yin’s purgative ego-function,
seeding Yang’s fully balancing life-form;
where Yin is non-polynomial spacetime information
double-bound equivalent
with Yang polynomial information’s primal resolution
to always fly and swim and walk,
run and play and hide,
and mutually gravitate together.
The day our United Way
slurps some Reality Stew
we will change this name
to The Competition Way;
competing for community support with the same constituency
we are teaching to compete with each other
for both community support and service.
Our United Way systemically grows
a Divided Fail.
The day our Philanthropic Foundation
absorbs some permaculturing compost,
we will learn to ask whose foundation is this really?
Are we a Foundation of inclusive cooperation?
A Foundation with Golden Rule
applied to all species living now
and in our global future,
incarnated by our Elder species
for this regenerative purpose?
Are we a Philanthropic Foundation
created by people
who deeply cared about sustaining life’s integrity
for seven generations?
Are we more a Foundation of confusing competition
for scarce resources,
or a Foundation for regenerating abundant contentment,
goodness,
beauty,
wisdom,
optimized economic policies for cooperative
ecological systems of health and well-being;
for minimizing suffering and exploitive competition,
economic commodification of Earth’s natural elements and systems,
a Commons that includes the lives of human
racing to win before losing our dreams
of teleological faith?
Could we become a Foundation for optimizing public policies
for mutually cooperative mentoring
of vocational choice,
of permaculturally,
organically,
integrally,
multisystemically functional, maybe even deeply creative, families
and thereby communities?
We stand within this permacultural Foundation
for cooperative mutual-investment guilds,
and networks,
and Climax Communities
for growing global consciousness of eco-identity,
Earth Care as Self and Other Care,
designing our ReGenesis Foundation,
with both interior and exterior landscape applications,
both YinTime and YangSpace information eco-metrics,
mutually mentoring Earth’s polyculturally cooperative eco-logic.
It was there
right there
on woodland’s playground
when I first knew
something stirs very wrong.
I was blind to balls
hurled at me,
being It is not why I grow my mind and body,
or is it?
I am “It!”
or at least half It.
It and I play best alone.
He slows down
to notice ocean surf
waving back and forth
an ocean sighing Hi, then low,
creeping in and sucking out.
It both hugs and climbs trees
to the very top
on windy ways
to wave back.
Why is It so shy?
Or, am I hiding her-him,
I’m not sure,
some of both
but too androgynous Him
fears no one else notices
surf rolls in and reverses out.
It knows bi-natured law
prehensile full-bodied grasp
of organic life’s humorous ambiguity
creative ambivalence
righteous equivalent functions and flows
of yang with yin within,
as without,
below,
as above,
before,
as to come,
long,
as to belong now,
together.
It’s so hard to not love
not share
bare
expose cooperatively unbalancing It.
S/he is soo… much fun!
laughs with everyone
generous enough to return this fine favor.
It’s polypathic polyculturing
binomial binary buddha brain
saturates flowering rain
dissects words to heal disharmonic logos
through permacultured alchemy linguistics,
a language It fears to ultimately find
merely eisegetical,
It chooses Red Rover
over soccer,
plays teacher with girls
over driving trucks and trains,
thinks compulsively about this problem of evil
while watching Leave it to Beaver,
where Father Knows Best,
over pitching stones and driving tractor.
It feels older and wiser than Him
but they are born twins
or so it seems
but It mysteriously explores incarnating cycles,
watching double-funneling raincloud whirlwinds
wind wending Elder ways
etching whorlwaters in our sea of shared identity,
or is whipping wind following whirling water,
but certainly both?
It abhors stability,
but adores regenerating solidarity.
It mentors ecotherapy with trees and me,
shows me boundary issues and branch
functions and frequencies
between August’s Yangish fire
and winter’s quenching white snow and ice,
between autumn’s wind falling regenetic harvest
and spring’s diastolic succulent soil
decomposing nutrients
growing new perennial rings in this life’s tree,
new leaves of grass-fed hope
new polyculture basic, simple-rich compost
new incarnating multisystemic
ecotherapeutic grace,
responsive
resolving
resonant within evil’s missing
non-polynomial dislogical pace,
new flowers and fruit
for Eden’s farm.
Did I just call It a fruit
out loud?
Shit happens inside our playground,
while planning more polyculturally redemptive lives.
I long to write a silent song;
ringing resonant rising
round revolving reach,
risk relaxing riots,
quiet storming streams,
sentient string
waiting your
our
sharing story,
advent’s adventure
deep despair diving
diastolic drifting
out beyond sonorous sea seasons
sweeping flight to gather might,
speaking slyly deep
down steaming volcanoed channels
reaching roots of listening
into Earth’s core chi-soul.
Speak, justly shout enchanting contention
churning charry content,
informating reasons
fine-purposed meanings
boiling funnel tipping
turning spinning
spilling waves of Tao balance
revolving temperamental cross,
straining yang from West to East
reversing yin from East to West
like longing lingering
loitering within belonging
becoming being
yin’s right spins left
good’s evil space
wrestling voices
murmuring
pulsing
massaging rhythm’s blood flows
flying frequencies
echoing past identities
of storms still-dancing
through memory’s veins
and river swollen
spring’s raucous roaring
songs singing silence
I long to write.
i breathe in
filling convex body/mind’s shellac,
immunizing ego-surface identity.
i breathe out concave,
eco-individuating,
growing within perennial rings
of encoded memory branches
rooting through human nature’s
bicameral Tree of Life.
i breathe in
your becoming,
your evolving design story,
shared incarnational trunk
fed by our mutually resonant RNA taproot,
infinitely more prime relationally alike than not
one binary-binomial mutual-informating network
of incarnation’s grace.
we breathe out through lungs,
our polymorphic beating, pumping heart’s raison d’etre,
original design coincidental intention,
finding freedom to share air
within our red warmed blood rivers
and tributaries
babbling brooks
and swampy creeks.
we breathe in engorging air-quenched brains,
our bipolar lungs’ Original Intention,
practice
discipline
stretching exercise,
sucking in contented sap of mutual regeneration,
suffering sting of toxic double-bound immunity.
we breathe out deeply, purging
reaching down and in
pushing from testicles and ovary wombs
and shared root system
whose first morphic product
was our polyculture developing healthy heart.
we breathe in
our mutual eco-regeneration,
developing perennial harmonic cycles of memory,
encoding this year’s branches
on our human gracing Tree of Life.
Breathing deeply and inclusively,
our sweeping permacultural vocation,
valentine.
What does it feel like to wake up into your skin?
Your day?
What do you feel first most days?
Is it in any way influenced by gratitude,
or totally given over to worry,
anxiety about your shortness of time?
Is this life the one you had in mind as a child?
When did this that you do to fill your days and years become your dream?
Or is it your nightmare?
Or something in between?
If so, which parts are closest to your dream
and what were you doing
and how old were you
and who did you live with
as this became your dream?
Were these relationships good dream mentors for you?
How did you get to this day, this place, this vocation?
When did the nightmares start
and are they something more than the fear
of your own cherished dream’s loss?
What is that one thing that sets you apart,
that is your unique character fingerprint?
How is your identity unique from all other identities alive now,
or in the past,
or in future generations?
And, if your uniqueness is no one thing,
but a constellation of attributes,
characteristics, dreams, fears, wisdom,
aspirations, relationships, memories,
then how is any one of those unique to you,
and if none is,
after due consideration,
then how are you not part of me
and all that is related to you
that is also related to others
that are less directly related to you,
on back to the emergence of memory capacity itself?
What do you imagine was that first memory?
Do you think it was of longing or belonging,
or somehow both,
like the contentment waiting within harmonic contention,
resolution waving toward our future,
still waiting in noncontentious background?
Is this content intuited as in-format-ionic,
to know and love nature’s wise re-solutions?
Evolution and Revolution each grow, respectively,
Yin- and Yang-tempered resolutions,
optimizing balanced incoming diastolic form
and outgoing memory-folded content?
Really?
It’s that prime permaculturally balanced,
optimizing enculturation’s meaning
by minimizing future’s monoculturally rapacious dissonance?
Really?
She still flinches
when a hand from on high
heads too close to her head,
like an abused undomesticated bitch
with too much oppositionally heated
bipolarity for safe freedom
outside silent medicated silos,
well intended asylums
without her sense of humor.
How would I live without her gift
of oppositional comedy?
Where yes means no, or maybe yes
or I’m not sure I grok what you say,
but I see smiling,
gratitude for time, life
mentoring me how we look to Other,
playing oppositional synergetic noticing,
then trusting functional potential
rather than swinging hand
from up,
and back at pain,
lost hope.
How would I trust without total faith in her
utterly sociopathic guilelessness?
She could tell a lie,
but why would she care enough
about what you think,
about what you smell,
about what you see, or don’t see, for that matter,
or even feel,
to bother to lie to you!?
So, when I ask her,
“Are you more happy now,
or more sad?”
and she opens her full radiant beams
up toward my hands
and lispily adds,
“More happy…what’s that smell?”
I know she would have said the same
even without this smell
I cannot quite sense,
and hope so much is not me.
To grow capacity for happiness
and brief glimpses of saner kindness,
like “Make me breakfast, please!”
without even a prompt,
and then the quiet “Thank you” gravy
as I turn my back
to wash her filthy dishes,
regenerates our polyculturing
lives of solidarity,
dancing eye-to-eye.
He, Yin son,
without capacity to language,
throws dimples on this dancing song
telling stories he learned by heart,
in shrieks and gales and waves of
rich composting laughter,
spinning wild saliva strings,
radiant Angelman joy.
Old Right hemispheric dominant
icon of ecological myth,
ego zero-balanced centric identity,
son of Universal Mediums,
breathes and beats his
well-indented teething ring,
hypnotic alchemistirring wand
drenched with passionate mindfulness.
gdill52 