Thursday, September 3, 2015

Esalen Institute

 
Orbital angular momentum of light

ESALEN INSTITUTE
(For Michael Murphy's 85th birthday)

For more than fifty years
We have been preparing the optimum site
For the Large Hadron Collider of the Spirit.
We are accepting proposals:
Come show your face.

We offer you the Pacific ocean
We offer you the Big Sur coast.
We offer you the legendary hot springs
We offer you an aware and intelligent staff
Each with a PhD
In one or more of
Aldous Huxley's nonverbal arts.

But be forewarned
We are experienced:

We have witnessed every scam,
Every ego-tripping, self-deluded vision,
bullshit, inauthenticity.

If you've got something big, hot and alive.
If you've been luckily electrified
By some new aspect of Deep Reality
O fortunate, O blessed one
Then bring it here.
That's what we live for.

We yearn for you
To arrive and turn us on.
We'd love to be the womb
Inside of which
Your vision blossoms.


Esalen bath house: outdoor hot tub.

4 comments:

iona miller said...

ah, the daze of 'hot tub diplomacy' ;)

Jack Sarfatti said...

"We have witnessed every scam,
Every ego-tripping, self-deluded vision,
bullshit, inauthenticity."

The late George Koopman got me high on cocaine right before the famous meeting where I lambasted some airhead for "self-deluded vision, bullshit etc" This led to my exile from Esalen and the rupture with Werner Erhard etc as told in David Kaiser's "How the Hippies Saved Physics" George died young in a car accident probably correlated with his addiction. He was also present at John Belushi's OD in the motel. He told me that.

nick herbert said...

Esalen works like a mirror
Unmasks those inner elfs
You shouldn't blame the drugs, Jack.
Physicist, heal thyself!

Wes Hansen said...

Prelude to Ecstasy

The Painkiller blast comes sharp and shrill
but the Secrets, Buried, will not be harried thus;
so the Executioner continues to hone his skill
and the Jazz Slinger to fill his till.

Tis the twilight of the coming, they say,
second helpings from the cosmic calculus;
spewed forth from the Guts of the Virgin,
in her hand, a well worn abacus.

Autopoietic Apocalypse, perturbations in the land of sand,
a killing field of ignorance, a kingdom of bloody lust;
ashes to ashes, dust to dust, from womb to tomb, the journey is just,
with mythological relevance, does this proof stand.

And thus I watch the fires burn:
the obscurations from my mind – a must!



"I have learned a few things about Shakespearian sonnets," he says, and then he proceeded to share that wisdom . . .

It's not the drugs, Jack, it's society; if society wasn't sick there would be no need for drugs. As Michelangelo once said, "Make Nature right and art will soon follow." Does that make sense? I think so . . .