Magic Bullets

Magic Bullets

This blog contains writings by John Trimpi.

It tells the story of one man's continuing experience in the adventure of looking at himself. He writes of his meeting with John Sherman, his initial skepticism and doubts about the practice, and his eventual conviction arising from his own experience that everything John says about the effectiveness of this practice is true. In John Trimpi's words, "The rocks and boulders of misidentification are disintegrated (...) until nothing remains to block you from the present experience of life. The energy of fear dissipates... "

Through captivating poetry and fine prose, his clear seeing and deep reflection on his own experience are gift to us all.

Hurtproof

Written by John Trimpi

 

Shame creeping up the back of my neck.

People laughing at my poor efforts.

Money lost through stupidity or misadventure.

Insincerity derived from greed.

Cowardice based on fear.

Loved ones alienated by criticism.

Friends separated by anger or resentment.

Misapprehension

Written by John Trimpi

 

What makes it evident we have mischaracterized our background is our unease, our dissatisfaction, the sense we are at risk and have something to lose, and the obsessive need to get things right.  If our background was moment-by-moment, a clean slate, then those things wouldn’t show up.  But if a conviction or belief dominates our mindscape, and if that conviction or belief has as its central message that we were the lives we were leading, then we could expect those things to show up, because we would be acting under the impression we were at stake and dependent upon the circumstances of our lives.

Defragging the Mind

Written by John Trimpi

 

My mind slipped a notch and fell out of gear,

sending it off to the fringes of its solar system.

I found myself in a picayune, peevish state,

a none too familiar one but familiar nonetheless.

Would that I was free of it forever.

Finding Nothing

Written by John Trimpi

 

You must appreciate the fact that you are nothing —

over and over again until the illusion is dissolved —

to win freedom from the mother of all beliefs.

Whether you come to know you are nothing is irrelevant;

the fruit of the labor of your looking

lies in the fact you will not find anything.

Simple Request

Written by John Trimpi

 

That’s not real,

but it’s real enough.

Real enough to send me

into a tailspin.

Real enough to cloud

moments of joyfulness.

Real enough to initiate funkdom

which may last for days.

Improving My Life

Written by John Trimpi

 

Will I ever be done with improving my life?

Constantly jockeying for the best position.

Seeking understanding for the sake of gain.

Bettering  my living and financial circumstances.

 

At least I know I’m about improving my life

and not about improving me,

That’s a pretty major statement to make.

Holy Communion

Written by John Trimpi

 

Pointing to the sky you talk with god,

but that requires articulation

and a modicum of belief or faith.

Communing with you is less adorned.

 

The most private act is one with no strings attached,

no chain of circumstances fettering your attention,

and thought is no servant.

Many Faces

Written by John Trimpi

 

I have worn so many faces

I can’t say who I am.

I can describe with conviction

each one of those faces,

but my present identity depends,

and in that dependence changes.

Hurtproof

Written by John Trimpi

Shame creeping up the back of my neck.

People laughing at my poor efforts.

Money lost through stupidity or misadventure.

Insincerity derived from greed.

Cowardice based on fear.

Loved ones alienated by criticism.

Friends separated by anger or resentment.

Clarion Call

Written by John Trimpi

 

Every now and again we get hit

by the clarion call of reality.

It’s like sobering up after a long

infatuation with life.

The party is over we seem to be told.

Time to get down to work or brass tacks.

There’s no joy in Mudville and little hope.

The good times before are of no consequence.

Our circumstances revolve to echo our mood,

and the world turns dingy and gray.

Our attention cannot long attend anything

while under the influence of gloom.