27 September 2009

Chapter 236 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CCXXXVI

The politics of any given group
Rarely has anything to do with reality.
Groupthink is groupthink no matter the assertion.
Agreeing to a lie does not make it true.

* * * *
The suspension of reason is the hallmark of all superstition.

* * * *
The idolatry of form offers an endless array of distractions.

* * * *
Life is a ride you cannot escape
Until the seed’s flowering ends.

* * * *
So many lies captivating so many minds.
The ability of the human species to suspend reason
In the face of the truth so plain to see
Is an amazing irony.

* * * *
Truth cannot be tamed.

* * * *
Dwelling upon anything less
Will only further the quagmire
In which we are already sinking.

* * * *
The challenge of dying to every moment
Is the mind’s insistence that its sensory play is real.
We are all ever again bound by the dream within our purview.
To be inwardly free is so strenuous because it requires
The moment-to-moment simplicity of a newborn.

* * * *
Ponder every possibility and you will see
The finite limitation of the mind born of time.
For as far as the net of imagination can be cast,
There is an ocean far too infinite to ever be snared.

* * * *
Idolatry is played out in so many ways by the undiscerning
Who believe only what the sensory dreaming allows.
To esteem, to worship any form, any concept,
Any mindset, whatsoever, is a sure road to perdition.

* * * *
Death to inner fabrication is the trail home.

* * * *
The road to inner peace, as simple as it truly is,
Is fraught with every imaginable inner conflict.

* * * *
If it is your fate to find your vocation
It will be your life’s tithing to the dream.

* * * *
Travel as far and wide as you will across this universe,
It will ever be the same moment, the same timeless flowing,
No matter the guise, no matter the frame, no matter the course,
No matter anything designed and maintained by the narcissistic will.

* * * *
No one can free you but your Self.

* * * *
Truth is without the taint of mind.

* * * *
Religion is naught but a numbers game
Played out in time by the pliable herd.

* * * *
Followers and leaders play the mutual vanity game.

* * * *
Another soul lost in the shuffle of delusion.

* * * *
Those who fear gods and devils
Have only their imagination to blame.

* * * *
Challenging as it may be to realize it,
You are the will of godness.

* * * *
There are no followers in reality.
That is the harvest of delusion.

* * * *
It the guise of finite form,
There are an infinity of questions.
In the guise of infinity, all need to know ends.

* * * *
The stillness of awareness is as good as it gets.

* * * *
Of course you are the truth, the light and the way.
To deny it is to be lost in a painful sea of delusion.

* * * *
The other may deny it,
But you need not succumb
To any other’s delusion.

* * * *
Every seed plays out a cosmos of its own creation.

* * * *
Every moment a new fabrication.

* * * *
I give you my vision of Self
That you might discern you own,
And see all are truly the same.

* * * *
Character is fate.
Anatomy is destiny.
Each and every moment,
The unfolding mystery plays on.

* * * *
Mass confusion on a different scale.

* * * *
At the core within,
Everyone, everything
Is the same ageless age.

* * * *
If not for consciousness,
What difference could there possibly be?

* * * *
Blast away,
Nothing to say
Again, ever again
For it is all the Way.

* * * *
What must be directly understood
Is that an antichrist is not an evil spirit.
It is just someone who simply, clearly says no
To the oppressive absurdity of all organized religions.
One who, without fanfare, states that we are all
That which is ever the same oneness.

* * * *
The road less traveled is less traveled
Because it is much more arduous
For the mind to discern itself
Than it is to be absorbed
In the illusive pursuit
Of every desire imaginable.

* * * *
Do you not at times grow weary
Of the countless differences
By which we are bound,
Knowing all the while
That nary a one is truly real.

* * * *
Curious how so many seekers
Are ceaselessly bemused
By the only answer ever given.

* * * *
Like moths, passion draws us all
To one consuming flame or another.
The mystery and its conscious reflection
Slowly whittles every form into the purest state.

* * * *
It is the many reflections of others
Which lend themselves
To the thoughts
Of the common bond of all.

* * * *
All forms are formlessly transient,
Created of the same essential nature,
Yet you spend your existence judging them
In seemingly every whimsical fashion imaginable.
Yet what does anyone ever really care for, or not care for,
But a wide swath of arbitrary, fleeting choices?

* * * *
Amazing grace,
How sweet the sound.

* * * *
Take away desire,
And what difference
Can there possibly be?

* * * *
Is that so?

* * * *
In any given work,
The problem with editing
Is that the editor may have taken out
The golden meaning of the story.

* * * *
Extrapolate until that which extrapolates
Is beyond all extrapolation

* * * *
Singularity rules.

* * * *
Wherever you run,
Your mind will follow.

* * * *
Guaranteed.

* * * *
Are you so sure of anything?
Who, what, where, when, why, how?

* * * *
When man created god,
He forgot to acknowledge himself
Mastermind of the collusion.

* * * *
All your thinking it through
Will only lead you
To more vain conclusions.
The further you drift from the center,
The more suffering you will inevitably entertain.

* * * *
It is the quality of any action that matters.
Intent without a deep sense of quality
Brings only separation and strife.

* * * *
Every mind has its own trail of tears
Born of the perceptions of time.

* * * *
It always boils down to momentary awareness.
Thought cannot assert final victory, for the ground
Is soon lost in the mists of its time-bound fog.

* * * *
Heaven or hell,
Same gold.

* * * *
Love everything, or nothing.

* * * *
Take away all the scriptures, and all any have left
Is the awareness of the eternal mystery,
Pure and simple, untainted.

* * * *
Used to believe in so much, so much.
Now, I can’t even touch
What I used to be, used to be.

* * * *
There is no only son,
Just everyone and everything.
One is one under every sun.

* * * *
Life is a journey through wonderland.

* * * *
In the still, unconditioned awareness
Of the eternally infinite, momentary present,
You are the embodiment of godness.

* * * *
Mu to you, too.

* * * *
A mind bound up in desire is a mind
Filled with every imaginable turmoil.

* * * *
Vampires will almost always hijack innocence
If given the opportunity.

* * * *
The mindsets are hatched
And the rest of human history
Will be their unfolding confusion.

* * * *
A desert is still a desert
No matter how much water is imported.

* * * *
Staying clear is one of life’s greater challenges.

* * * *
Haven’t you been suckered enough already?

* * * *
Is a drop really anything but the ocean
Playing out an ingredient again?
And is it the same drop,
Or merely another rendering?

* * * *
Is there really anything to save?

* * * *
You are,
Therefore you must be
That I Am.

* * * *
Do not blame yourself
For a world you cannot change.

* * * *
Children are the innocence of time eternal.

* * * *
Is evaporation a choice?

* * * *
Permanence cannot be sewn into any creation
By even the greatest divinity imaginable.
Time and space are ever illusion,
No matter the dream.

* * * *
A literal mind
Generally creates great confusion
From figurative intent.

* * * *
Being bound by any extrapolation of thought
Is the death rattle of further investigation.

* * * *
Gold is not concerned what form it is given.

* * * *
Within any given theater of consciousness,
There is the potential for infinity to blossom.
All you must do is simply let go of everything.

* * * *
It is the road less traveled
Because most miss the exit.

* * * *
As simple as it is, however,
It is the most arduous of journeys.

* * * *
The individual drop that believes
It is the supremacy of the ocean
Is, indeed, arrogant, vain and dim.

* * * *
What delusion could there possibly be
That would satisfy those who truly doubt?

* * * *
You are me, and I, you,
As it has ever been and will ever be.
Those who sincerely seek truth
Will always find it within.

* * * *
To follow is to be enslaved
By one delusion or another.

* * * *
You act as your passion dictates.

* * * *
It was much less difficult before kindergarten.

* * * *
The impetus of civilization ever ratchets its demands

* * * *
All sense of individuality
Cloaks this elemental truth.

* * * *
To resume the spacious reality,
Disengage all sensory distractions.

* * * *
Anonymity,
Within and without,
Is its own reward.

* * * *
When does the singular become the plural,
And was the plural ever really
Anything but singular?

* * * *
All forms, by their nature,
Must entertain a limited view.

* * * *
We are all compelled to do
Whatever it is we individually do
By dynamic, often arbitrary influences
Few, beyond doubt, ever muse.

* * * *
You have all the time in the world.

* * * *
We have become so mesmerized
With our conceptual creations
That the given relationship with nature
Has receded to ornamentation and manipulation.

* * * *
Imagine a life without fear.

* * * *
Discerning your capacities and limitations
Can both an exhilarating and painful process.


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The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved