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Rare Jewel

“Words like utter rarity and priceless treasure – words like soul crushing gratefulness and tears of crippling love – heads that glow brighter than stars -hearts that nurture galaxy’s – such weak and ineffective ways at describing what happens when lightening strikes and momentary sight reveals a landscape so profound that a vow is instantly born in you to follow all beings, through all time, into every hell and heaven if even only to place grains of sand, one by one, building the Mountain Sanctuary of Love in the land of searing pain. And look – out of the ashes of a planet of despair comes an image of Victory and a call to Awaken – from a vow born from lightening strikes deep in the stormy worlds unseen. Even to lay eyes on this image means you are fortunate beyond any capacity to comprehend it.
May you feel the love of These Great Masters and may lightening strike, birthing in you the remembrance of who you are. Words are shadows that scratch the outer surface of the very edge of truth.”    – Baksheesh

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We walk on Poetry’s Road

As warm as she is cold.

Broken hearts

and lovers lost

Teachings of shadows

Dark Arts.

Poetry’s road

As bright as it is Bold,


Joy and Suffering



Forevers unending brisk morning walk.

Before you even realize you are reading this Ninjaji has already given the lesson on today’s Raw Organic Cereal. Even before you read the post, -how sneaky Ninjaji is – You are a little confused, your wondering where I am going with this, your thinking “Is the guys writing this really stoned right now?” or, maybe I am just wondering if you are able to notice…

Just then, right now -you sense a presence,  you turn and look over your left should – there is nothing there, you look back at the screen and Ninjaji stands before you, radiant, bathed in brilliant NinjaLight –

his eyes,

Ninjaji’s eyes,

blazing samadhi

The fire that burns


You notice Ninjaji is holding something in his hand, pointed at you, you look away from his bliss filled form and at this object, which you suddenly realize is a mirror, reflecting to your eyes the memory of the lesson on Raw Organic Cereal Ninjaji gave to you before you even started reading this –

Sucked into the mirror of your minds memories, as if you were pulled into the mirror itself you see standing before you yourself, with Ninjaji, high up in a Mighty Oak Tree, the branches swaying in the warm summer breeze – white puffy clouds never blocking the soft warm rays of the sun. Ahhhhhhh. You remember breathing deeply and exhaling fully.

Smoke is rising from Ninjaji’s NinjaToes, your eyes

Blazing Samadhi

Your Super Hungry.

Organic Goats Milk yogurt

Organic Rolled Oats

Organic Peanuts

Small scoops of organic crunchy peanut butter

Organic Raisins


These ingredients flash through your mind. You begin to remember yourself worrying “Where do I find organic goat yogurt? Raw peanut butter is expensive – shit, a lot of this is expensive ”

Ninjaji throws into your mind a marsh mellow love star instantly soothing you “Dearest One, do your best, start where you can, work your way toward all raw, organic, local and fresh. Set the highest bar for your well being and be loving and compassionate to yourself as you work against the momentum of old ways and habits – they are demons that you have birthed with foolishly spent attention – that was the fruit of karma’s you may not be able to see yet – but more importantly, the fact you have received these recipes, is proof your happy producing karma’s are indeed full, vital and working for you. Don’t waste time. Don’t spend good karma. Make more of it with this opportunity. It is hard to break old habits, patience, determination and will will overcome any momentum from past stupidities along with surrounding yourself with support of any kind – such as but not limited to, thoughtful, truth seeking people.

Right as you begin to feel Ninjaji is preaching you see him stirring the ingredients together into a slurry of healthy happiness.

Like a cobra striking, Ninjaji brings forth from his secret chambers within his garb a crystal vessel full of a brown liquid – Organic Grade B Maple Syrup…Music that would be fitting of a great moment starts playing…..And he tops this concoction off with the liquid nectar of loving trees.

Passionate fast moving visions of the intimate consumation of this recipe barrage the mirror of your minds memory accompanied by cheesy 70’s porno music, mmmmmmm, yeaaahhhh, ohhhhh fuuuuu  ny how good this shit is!”

Ninjaji lights a cigarette with his NinjaGarb in disarray from the sensual fest of Raw Organic Cereal…

As you wonder why Ninjaji is smoking you find yourself staring once again at the mirror in Ninjaji’s hand, which he quickly crushes into a puff of dust before your eyes.

You stare at his Blazing Samadic Eyes

Your heart as full as your stomach.

As you hear yourself questioning “Ninjaji, how do you…

The post ends.

Ninja pulls himself out of a magicians black top hat, and out he comes as 3 black ravens flapping and cawing  – the Ravens circle each other above your head and you hear Ninjaji’s voice in your mind as their flight smooths out to a perfect circular turning, as if there was a black wheel spinning above your head –

Ninjaji says “Dearest One, when I am sad, I heat up organic almond milk with organic grade B maple syrup and a spoonful of coconut oil.

This drink warms my heart and soul, it is rich, it is full – warmth on a cold grey spring day.

You can add cacao, or hot chocolate mix – either way, it is one hell of a sadness fix”

The 3 ravens spin faster and faster, appearing to be one circle, you stare at them as they fly faster around your head and just when you begin to get dizzy Ninjaji, touches your cheek, he is standing before you with a cup of Warm Happiness. You sip. As you sip the black ravens turn a brilliant white and gold.

Your eyes close to enjoy this experience, when they open, Ninji is gone. Disoriented from the moment, not sure if you are dreaming, you go to the bathroom to rinse your face with cold water only to find Ninjaji has left you a note. Written with a sharpie on your forehead. It reads

” Hurt Embraced is Joy” – Rumi

The Master Sadness

His eyes are seas of thick black cloud

Tumultuous formations of torments turbulation

Tickle tickle your tummy’s funnies

To only bite and tear and claw –

Master Sadness visits All.

Born on the morn of not born at all

She walks this land

With her own vibrant grace-

Her head low, yet she walks tall

Master Sadness is

Part of this dream.

Bow in reverance to

Joy in Hiding,

Buddha Discrete.

She is around five feet ten inches tall of Pure Czechoslovakian Goddess and more than once I have watched Her Face Shine a bright warm light. She might be 60 now and age has never reached Her. My Adoration of Her grew steadily more profound as Our time together deepened. Her Grace. Her melodically soft accent spoken so delicately, as if to sooth a very worried heart. In this way I remember things She spoke to me, present living memories full of skillfully transmitted wisdom that tastes like honey – mostly, She could be a pain in the ass too.

I have never been one to admire people with self given names – the dark side of it always made my stomach quickly turn – the effort to hide or change by simply rearranging some letters you put on paper next to your face – as if a new arrangement equals a new arrangement of your life and mind. Then there is the lighter side of this, which is birth and being courageous – a new identity full of new potential, born from conscious intent and clear understanding that our thoughts are creating everything around us, quickly, or over time – this new name then becomes a tool for the skillful heartpender  – a mental vehicle of sorts that you can ride in to your now, more voluntary and intelligence based destination – or new soils for you to plant your new crops, you know, the Organic Heirloom Currents. The basis of all meditation is watching – watching involves allowing thoughts to be present, good and bad and allowing thoughts to pass fast or slow. Once you experience the true watching of a thought you become aware that any attempt to push out a thought or run from a thought only increases it’s intensity. Many new identities seem to be born out of the desire to escape and avoid rather than to confront and transform.

I was driving my f250 turbo diesel pick up – a very fast and sporty truck – a work truck – and She is with me in the passenger seat as We head to Ohio for a weekend Dance Meditation Retreat and we get on the topic of nationalities. She asked me where my family was from and I told her Lebanon, Syria and Ireland – and she instantly snapped back with a great deal of humor in her voice, “Lebanon, Syria? Your heritage is middle eastern? BAKSHEESH! Your Name is Baksheesh!” – exclaimed as if this was something she had been looking for and suddenly happened upon it.  It was an utterly non-climactic moment for me because I did not like the sound of it and I had no idea I was involved in anything like looking for a new name plus I had no idea what Baksheesh meant. She was laughing and laughing. Then she explained to me,” Baksheesh, you know in the cities when you stop your car and a bum comes out and starts washing your windshield, and then has the nerve to ask you for money? That is Baksheesh.” And She erupted into laughter while a sinking feeling rapidly developed in my mid section.

When I first met Her I thought She was a nice woman with a pretty accent. As time passes, now, some 7 years later, each day My Love, Appreciation and Gratitude for Her grows. In this same way, I had no way of knowing then the deep insight in the name I was given – I was hoping for something like, you know “BabaShreeZongpo Dragon Lotus of the Shamballa Kingdom” but instead, I was given a name used to describe people who extort money from you or bribe.

Few to no one refers to me by this name, and I cherish that it is this way. When She says this name to me ‘Baksheesh’ – it is with a quality of Love that is so moving to me that to here it spoken without that quality of attention, affection and intuitive understanding – with zero hesitation, it hurts my ears. Only 3 people have ever spoken this name to me, or a slight variation of it “Sheesh” in a way that I was happy to hear it.

Baksheesh is the name I was given by Her. It relates to  the gifts I have to share as well as the lessons I have to learn..

I know some of what comes through came to be of service to you -and for sure having a space to share is a great service to me.