CCXLIV
Most seem content with a lie called truth.
* * * *
Eternal life is not subject to any history,
Tradition, ritual, symbol or time-bound facade whatsoever.
It is the awareness prior to any conscious design,
Prior to any pretense of separation.
* * * *
To take absurdity seriously
Is a sure road to perdition.
* * * *
What history really teaches
Is to take nothing for granted.
* * * *
No matter how tangible or subtle,
Any given manifest form is ultimately
A creation of the same elemental nature.
* * * *
Who can truly know
When any shell will crack open,
And a new life begin?
* * * *
Acting is an intimate portrayal
Of imagination pretending.
* * * *
Everything is quite magical
In a most ordinary sort of way.
* * * *
All identification is in reality a temporary lie
Born of consciousness’s unwitting self-deception.
To realize the timeless, ephemeral awareness
Is as true to form as any can ever get.
* * * *
A true human being knows it is not.
* * * *
Funny how something
You thought was so clear already
Often becomes even clearer.
* * * *
Life is a privilege, not a right.
* * * *
Be what you truly are,
Not what you think you are.
* * * *
Any culture that loses respect for,
And common courtesy toward others
Is condemned to disarray and dissolution.
* * * *
For the direction to change,
The human paradigm must drastically shift,
And a new synergy evolve.
* * * *
Hurry, White Rabbit, hurry!
There is little or no time remaining
To ponder destiny, or to even procrastinate.
You’re late! You’re late!
For a very important date!
No time to say hello, or goodbye!
You’re late, you’re late, you’re very, very late!"
* * * *
None other than the one and only One it Self.
* * * *
Surrender to the grand indifference.
* * * *
The myth of Jesus
Should probably be rated up there
With the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus.
* * * *
Unfettered breeding paves the road to chaos.
* * * *
A cynic is an idealist
With a mind turned around
And the perfect disposition above.
* * * *
History is taking us all on a wild, crazy ride.
A roller coaster on a track that is shaking loose
On a structure that’s buckling at the seams.
* * * *
An eternal dust storm
To which the senses and mind
Fabricate arbitrary order.
* * * *
The whole point of this entire charade
Is to wake up.
Everything else is a means to that end.
* * * *
Peace is a state of mind.
Manifest it within,
And it will harvest without.
* * * *
The maelstrom of dust is you forever and a daze.
* * * *
The haze of mystery is within us all.
* * * *
Falsehoods played out long enough
Have a tendency to achieve
Their twisted ways.
* * * *
Another day of quantum dreaming.
* * * *
There is nothing more, nothing less, nothing but.
* * * *
The inner war of Soul continues.
* * * *
Windows of opportunity appear and disappear
In the wisps of time’s mysterious unfolding.
* * * *
Power, fame and fortune . . .
What bothers.
* * * *
Arrogance wanders every venue,
Some more wearing than others.
* * * *
It ain’t a choice thing.
* * * *
Cultivate contentment as best ye may.
* * * *
The food and drink consumed
By all creatures great and small may vary,
But from the quantum perspective,
All shit and piss is equal.
* * * *
Every life form has a story,
And it is the synergy of all stories
That paints the future presently unfolding.
* * * *
Any given personality is ever an imperfect state,
An outcome of genetic lottery and environmental influences.
Attempting to be perfect is merely another ideal,
Another distraction, another attempt
To fit into the vanity of one mindset or another,
To survive in whatever geography you have been spawned.
* * * *
Alas, once again, contentment proves to be
A most challenging state of mind to attain.
* * * *
So many duplicating,
Repeating, mimicking, rehashing
So many things first done
So very long ago.
Por que?
* * * *
Whether these many thoughts
Aid in creating a more unified mindset or not,
That was their Soul intent.
* * * *
Much pondering
About that which few
Seem interested in hearing.
* * * *
Getting an award after you are dead
Seems more than a tad ironic.
* * * *
Despite humanity’s ceaseless attempts
To understand how this moment in time came to be,
The full story will never be accurately known.
* * * *
Just because everyone else
Believes one deception or another
Does not mean you must pursue
Any particular rhyme or reason.
* * * *
The whole issue of freedom revolves
Around whether you are content to continue be a prisoner
Of the countless propagandas born of time.
* * * *
To deny miracles is to understand
The fundamental physics
Of natural law.
* * * *
To which modern times are we referring?
* * * *
All stories, no matter how seemingly profound,
Are fundamentally the proof of imagination.
* * * *
Funny how the journey
Seems to bring you back
To where you started.
* * * *
Truth is born of simplicity,
And will ever remain the means
By which it is discerned.
* * * *
Do not confuse simplicity with simple-mindedness.
* * * *
Think of death as just a really good night’s sleep.
* * * *
Miracles are the invention of superstition.
Scientific observation often disproves or expands
The context of the many fabled stories of old.
* * * *
Overwrought ego can lay a trap for any fool.
* * * *
Glory and infamy.
Same thing, different daze.
* * * *
Who to feel most compassion for
But the countless creatures great and small
Who have been undeservedly decimated and tortured
By the vain wrath of the human storm.
* * * *
Humanity’s modus operandi is so immersed in vanity
That most cannot even fathom its fundamental delusion.
* * * *
Oh, would that you could take back all the cruel things
You have purposefully or inadvertently done to others.
* * * *
Love thy Self.
* * * *
To thine own Self, be true.
* * * *
You are the way, the truth and the life.
* * * *
Who is more sane?
The soul who discerns s/he
Is the immortality of the essential nature,
Or the one believing the whim of mortal individuality?
* * * *
If this perspective was commonplace,
What sort of paradigm would evolve?
* * * *
History is but the foggy vapor of imagination.
* * * *
To define yourself through the past
Is to fail to discern new opportunities
Provided by the unfolding present.
* * * *
Whatever you may do
To ignore, dispel or change it,
The essential fact remains the same:
You cannot alter reality.
* * * *
All continuity is fabricated.
Time is nothing more than a neurological imprint,
A biological survival stratagem.
Cause and effect
Is a collusion of evolution,
A mutation of the mind’s will to persist.
* * * *
Each of us has created a life
Unique in its own peculiar montage.
Each of us offers a role no one else can play,
All are in reality one and the same
In the song of godness.
* * * *
Everything is relative.
Nothing is not relative.
* * * *
Why imitate any other?
An original life is its own reward.
* * * *
It is in balance and moderation
That life is most serenely lived.
* * * *
That is, indeed, the unflinching irony of it all.
* * * *
More blah, blah, blah.
* * * *
If the mystery doesn’t care about you,
Why should you care about it?
* * * *
Another whimsical paradox, to be sure.
* * * *
To arrive is to die to time.
* * * *
Ice hangs, snow drifts, water drips, steam wafts.
So much changing, all the same.
* * * *
Consciousness is not the Soul.
It is a brief manifestation of the essential nature,
Which is the Soul of all creation.
* * * *
What a mystery an open heart.
* * * *
Havoc boils, serenity steeps.
* * * *
Ponder how worn the mountains,
And wonder at how many times
The rivers have filled the seas.
* * * *
The Hierophantic News.
* * * *
A safer bet was never made.
* * * *
Knock, knock, who’s there?
Nobody knows.
* * * *
The pulse beats fast, the pulse beats slow.
How wondrous the heart that endures.
* * * *
The sundry things misplaced through slights of mind,
Some are rediscovered in places most likely,
Others dally in nooks and crannies,
Perhaps never to be found.
* * * *
Daft buggers, what point to this intrepid madness?
* * * *
Irony bites again.
* * * *
The order of mind and all its creations,
Although as much an outcome of nature as any manifestation,
Lacks the random spontaneity that rules the garden.
To return to Eden, one must transcend
Into the order of chaos.
* * * *
All meditation practices
Are much ado about nothing.
* * * *
Many a heart falls upon its own mind.
* * * *
How utterly inexplicable this mystery of existence.
* * * *
Rules are for those unable to endure
The unremitting spontaneity of it all.
* * * *
Whether for good or ill,
Few undertakings seems impossible
For the passionate mind.
* * * *
If there is perchance a separate god,
It surely must be utterly mad at having to endure
The unending confusion human imagination hath wrought.
* * * *
The apex of an unsettling dream.
Major changes coming.
Bummer, man.
* * * *
Just a new layer of conceit
Concocted by another
Self-absorbed ninny.
* * * *
Talk has never been a very expensive commodity.
* * * *
The shogun marches off to conquer the world.
The gardener remains and creates a universe.
* * * *
Each moment the universe is forgotten and remembered again.
The eternal unfolding set before the senses is unyielding.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved