In a world on fire, something wants to sing. I am not quite sure what wants to be born. For me. For you. For the world. But for this samsaric soul this post is a seed. Many of you have asked for a podcast or an audio book. You have poked and nudged my stubborn fearful self. Humbly and cautiously I offer yet another digital bit to this world wide web. As a result, ZenRants (blog) is dead and Bardo Blues is born. This lyrical art and poetry project can be read, but for the fuller experience I encourage you to listen to the audio. May this benefit you and all beings.
The 1st and Last Note
Can you hear her?
She lurks and creeps with us all. In all our routines and perpetual busyness — she is always there. Mysterious she is, neither here nor there.
She is with us when we’re lost in maze of Costco aisles. She sings to us in spring, when not even spring knows when it begins. And she was the background music to the Great Pause, that ephemeral nightmare known as the Covid Pandemic.
Yes, you know her. She’s that subtle shadow — that persistent unease that something feels off.
Now, maybe that’s just samsara buzzing along. Or my wounded child still tracking a room. And there is always that consumerist marketing engine priming us to never feel whole. But this tender heart glimpses a different world.
It sees and it feels how the collective dream is fading.
How one world is burning. Crumbling. And melting away. Institutions fail to meet the complexity and chaos of the day. The stories and ideologies that cohered us for generations are evaporating.
Yet another world — is waiting to be born. Here — but not. The latent potential longing to emerge is erotically present. When we slow down, and open our inner thighs, she blows in our ear and tickles our aspirations.
This is how the silent void of the Bardo sings. She is pregnant with twins of uncertainty and beauty.
For this moment— our moment — is a time between worlds. A time between new stories and new games. A time between new hearts-minds and paradigms. This Bardo, is not simply an intermediate stage between death and rebirth. Ohh no. She lives now. She f***s and fights. She sweats onions and plants gardens. She grieves and dreams of a better world. For we all are in the Bardo of Being.
Get full access to Bardo Blues at
Get full access to Bardo Blues at