19 September 2009

Chapter 256 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


We are all children of the same sun.

* * * *
Participating in this convoluted world can become a hellish journey
When it forces the contortion of imagination
To unimaginable ends.

* * * *
How ironic that we believe hell
Is worse than what we already create.
We are the demons for as long as we choose
Dominance over guardianship,
Greed over cooperation,
Conflict over peace.

* * * *
What do you really think you can do to alter
Humankind's insane forays in consciousness?

* * * *
Potential is meaningless unless it precipitates into kinetic.

* * * *
Countless tortured and extinct life forms,
Including innumerable human beings,
Would view being treated humanely
As a dubious, ironic experience.

* * * *
Intelligence and compassion
Can overcome genetic predisposition,
But such quests are not for the greedy of spirit.

* * * *
The gold is in your Soul,
Not your pocketbook.

* * * *
In the midst of hell,
Wander heaven.

* * * *
The quest of each is to discern
One's own voice amidst the many.

* * * *
When it comes to the exploration of reality,
Seek out teachers who do not weave into their teaching
The remnants of delusion and self-interest.

* * * *
Parasites, vampires and other demonic forms
Find every way to sway many an incautious soul.

* * * *
Any given action
Has potential to create
An equal and opposite reaction.

* * * *
It can be somewhat frightening
To surrender to the vast unknown,
But releasing in moderate increments
Gradually builds a tolerance to the freedom.

* * * *
Who better knows hell than a repentant demon?

* * * *
If all you seek is pleasurable entertainment,
This work will likely not be your cup of tea.

* * * *
All that humankind believes it is, is herein altered.
The bar has been raised.

* * * *
Does the egg believe it is the shell?
The ocean, the crashing wave?
The kernel, the chaff?

* * * *
The word creates hell.
The word unlocks heaven.

* * * *
Does your fear control you so much
That you eternally condemn yourself?

* * * *
When the seed dies,
When the patterning dissolves,
What will become of your willful personality?

* * * *
The trick is learning what it is to look.

* * * *
Death is a melting pot.

* * * *
A pattern is a pattern.
None are greater or lesser
In the grand design of all creation.
All life is born into one limitation or another,
Into the suffering all manifest existence must endure.

* * * *
For all practical purposes
This world is the only hell there is,
And it is born of your own conscious choosing.

* * * *
Whether or not you see it as choice, it is.
Looking forward, free will.
Looking back, fate.

* * * *
Humankind is quickly running out of space to grow up.

* * * *
When the laws and regulations of a state are too inequitable,
When the weight of bureaucracies are too draining,
When the club of the military is too repressing,
When haves share too few crumbs with have-nots,
When the resources of the land are unfairly distributed,
It is all but inevitable that revolution will rock the foundation.

* * * *
There is no other.
Now is the only time there is.
It is the beginning, and the end, of all things.

* * * *
Those who would lead
Must always beware the mob's wrath.
History has a way of making sudden twists and turns.

* * * *
How inane that so many believe
One vaudevillian magic trick or another
Is the sign something is true or not.
The permutations of idolatry
Are deeply rooted.

* * * *
Surely this personal god,
To which so many hypnotically allude,
Prefers intelligent conversation,
At least occasionally.

* * * *
Any previous time has a tendency
To be considered quaint, old-fashioned, even stupid
By the youth of succeeding generations.

* * * *
No answer is the answer.

* * * *
Another little in-the-box drama.

* * * *
Those who are dissatisfied
Will ever find a reason to be.

* * * *
Do not forget how to play, how to enjoy the simple things.
And if you do forget, or for some reason were deprived of a childhood,
Then journey within to the beginning, and re-learn,
Re-acquaint your Self
With the innocence of your birthright.

* * * *
One of the many bothers about growing older
Is how much more predictably tedious
The human drama daily becomes.

* * * *
So many words for an unseen audience
Who will likely never even begin to read them.
Ah well, it has been quite a process.
There are many lesser ways
To wander the time.

* * * *
All any can do with a vested, entitled interest
That no longer suits them, is to walk away.
If enough abandon any given sphere,
It is sure to wither on its unwarranted vine.

* * * *
We all come, we all go.
Brief players on an ever-changing stage.

* * * *
A mysterious game of hide and seek
In which you are both seeker and sought.

* * * *
Anything can be usurped for alternative purpose.
Question anything and everything.
Always be cautious
About what you accept as true.

* * * *
Infinitely small, infinitely tall.

* * * *
What a predicament it is to be born,
Much less being born as a human being.

* * * *
So many ways to die.
How to choose just one.

* * * *
Absurdity is the wordity.

* * * *
Delusion is much like dust.
It covers everything and requires constant housekeeping
To keep things clean and untarnished.

* * * *
Every moment is revolution to the true revolutionary.
Accept nothing.

* * * *
Shade of subtlety are the hallmark of irony.

* * * *
One must be very cautious
When dealing with the potential toxicity of any given pleasure.
More discipline is required as you age,
Not less.

* * * *
Mother Nature is not a drama queen.

* * * *
Prior to everything imagined, everything perceived,
There is a stillness, a fountain from which all is created.

* * * *
If there is a personal god,
As so are inclined to believe,
Then, pray tell, answer me this:
Where did he/she/it/whatever come from?
Granted, this mystery had to start somehow, sometime, somewhere,
But some Santa Claus heaven/hell scenario
Just doesn't cut the mustard.
And don't get me started
On the alien theory advocates.

* * * *
Different masks of the same game.

* * * *
It's all quite meaningless,
But play on.

* * * *
Every tradition, every ritual, every symbol,
Was probably originally just a simple innovation
That gradually snowballed into absurdity over time.

* * * *
There is a tendency for truth
To be usurped and subjugated
In every way imaginable.

* * * *
Contrary to common assumption,
You do not need to be weighted down by history.
What is more necessary is the courage to live intuitively in the moment.
You do not need to always carry the fabricated baggage
Of personal identity and culture.

* * * *
What is the mind when all clinging ceases?

* * * *
Knowledge is its own aphrodisiac.
When desire for it ends,
How little is left,
How little is truly necessary.
The quest to accumulate transforms
Back into the natural state of eternal tranquillity.

* * * *
Organized religions are cultural fabrications
Designed to continue humankind's boundless capacity
To corrupt and enslave the birthright of innocence
Of the those born into its fabricated arena.

* * * *
In dabbling with thoughts such as these,
You are exploring a change in consciousness as you now know it.
Success in this inquiry will bring about a transformation,
A quality of mind that is far more expansive.
It is akin to a drop of water
Returning to the ocean of origin.

* * * *
Space, the final frontier.

* * * *
Humanity should question what redeeming value
Its continued presence offers this garden world.
Odds are we need it far more than it needs us.

* * * *
How much of the key lies in discerning what surrender implies.

* * * *
You are the union before all heart and mind.

* * * *
When you face your death,
When you die to fabricated identity.
You will never die again.

* * * *
You are the silence before all storms.

* * * *
When you discover what you really are,
You will see what "That I Am" truly implies.
Once you discern clearly what you really are,
Though you may at times lose sight,
You can never really forget.

* * * *
Any given mind is likely resistant to change.
The natural detachment of earth, wind, water and fire
Are not without arduous simplicity mastered.

* * * *
So many mouth empty words like love and freedom
Without ever coming close to the depth
The concepts truly imply.

* * * *.
If you had never been born,
If you do not wake up tomorrow,
Would you, could you ever really care?

* * * *
Is consciousness even possible
Without one biological sensory transmitter or another?

* * * *
Is humanity intelligent enough to survive itself?
Is a bet on which only one taker can collect.

* * * *
God has never been a concept.

* * * *
Back in the good old days, conquest was honest
In its self-absorbed quest for power, wealth and glory.
Now it is cloaked in euphemisms of politics and religion,
Yet ever with the same vain ends in mind.

* * * *
Arbitrary might makes arbitrary right.

* * * *
Any given genetic line is a survivor
Of a long trail of savagery and destruction.

* * * *
If you concern your Self too much
With the nightmare humanity is manifesting,
It may well drive you to one padded room or another.
Who with any insight into a larger vision
Would create this purgatory?

* * * *
Many would argue that a bad dream
Is better than no dream at all.
Hmmm . . .

* * * *
Humanity's notion of manifesting its destiny out into the universe
Would be a tragedy other worlds will hopefully not have to suffer.

* * * *
Freedom is not merely an idealistic concept.
It is a quality of sovereign beingness
That no other can touch or sway.

* * * *
Discern your death,
Not as the body's ternimation,
But as the dissolution of fabricated identity.

* * * *
There is a very predictable set of rules in this manifest theater.
Not playing by them brings about equally predictable consequences.

* * * *
Keep remembering until you never forget.

* * * *
Gazing at a wall or a busy street.
Is there really any difference.

* * * *
You are a patterning of your mother's and father's genetic lineage.
Intuit the pattern's trail through the evolution of your ancestry
Until you reach the origin of all life, and prior to that still.
Discern that the nowness of any given moment
Has never really been in any way different
Than the oneness you traverse now.

* * * *
The intensities of consciousness in existence
Are written in every face, every body, every mind.

* * * *
Those who create endless division and rancor
Play a hellish game.

* * * *
Instead of viewing Self via your personal body-mind,
Discern the body-mind via the impersonal Self.

* * * *
Cut through all the crap,
And find the pearl.

* * * *
It is a journey into that which is prior to the mind, prior to the heart,
Prior to all concepts, all forms, and even awareness itself.
It is the journey into that where all paths end.

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