19 September 2009

Chapter 257 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CCLVII

Given the reckless abandon
Humankind has voraciously taken,
It looks as if the shrinking world
Will soon be large again.

* * * *
Inseparable, indivisibly, holographically seamless
But for imagination's chronically dualistic notions.

* * * *
Another unique day
Of more of the same.

* * * *
When given a series of absurd choices,
Always remember that "None of the Above,"
Whether listed or not, is always an option.

* * * *
Genetic lottery being what it is, the seed you call you
Had to take root somewhere in this mysterious field of dreams.
Look around, and for good or ill, this is your brief window of opportunity
To do whatever time, circumstance and inclination allow.
If it is your destiny to wake up, then you'll wake up.
If not, enjoy the snooze as your nature calls.

* * * *
With all the horrors we synergistically havoc upon our own kind
And the innumerable, relatively defenseless life forms across the world,
Pray tell, what exactly does it mean to be considered inhumane?

* * * *
What is it about fortune, power, fame,
Or any other elevation or notoriety,
That makes so many feel so superior?

* * * *
Great cleverness is often blind to the larger landscape.
The simplicity of wisdom is born of insight,
Not mere knowledge.

* * * *
You've dug your rut, now wallow in it.

* * * *
Humanity must inevitably pay a heavy price
For its blind contempt for this planet's diversity.

* * * *
Insight is simply an expansive vision within.
The eye of the mind that functions
Prior to sensory input.

* * * *
Once you really have it,
You will never lose it.
You may be distracted,
But you can never forget.

* * * *
How insane must it get
Before the vast array of actors
On this temporal stage finally wake up?
Are all these narcissistic little parts so endlessly absorbing,
Are all these innumerable contortions of free will
So mesmerizing in their pretensions,
That the human seed line
Must in time drown
In its own sea of imagination.

* * * *
Dancing in the vast mystery of awareness,
Oblivion's rainbow is a choiceless choice.

* * * *
There is no need
To go somewhere else
To find what you already have,
And can never lose.

* * * *
Content is the gardener
Who knows the true kingdom.

* * * *
The synergy of all
Ever keep the dice rolling
In unpredictable convolutions.

* * * *
Discern the will to be content.

* * * *
Nothing happens.

* * * *
The rich and powerful may believe it is they who steer history,
But it is the mass of all upon which their crests ebb and flow.

* * * *
The immortality of any form
Is but a figment of human imagination,
And its vain craving for continuity.

* * * *
More cannon fodder for the exit door.

* * * *
Of what real value to anything but projected vanity
Is it to have your name in one history book or another.

* * * *
The difference between history, news and gossip
Is really only a few slivers of a shaded degree.

* * * *
Yet another good day to die.

* * * *
Babble, babble . . .
Babble, babble . . .
Babble, babble . . .
Babble, babble . . .
Babble, babble . . .
Babble, babble . . .

* * * *
History will ever be lost and forgotten
In the fog of time and space.

* * * *
The happenstance of creation springs anew
Each and every moment in every mind.

* * * *
Memory is but the neurological traces of perception.

* * * *
All wars are the same.
The only thing that changes
Is the way people die.

* * * *
History is an ever-flowing fountain
For those who have the mind and inner eye
To discern the imaginary expanses
Of geography and time.

* * * *
The synergy of human vanity
Carries on the time-being.

* * * *
The body only craves what it needs.
It is the deep abyss of the mind
That craves so much more.

* * * *
You are naught
But a temporal ever-changing figment
Of your own fluid imagination.
As are all the others.

* * * *
Have I written anything exactly this way before,
Or is this just slightly nuanced enough
So as to be absolutely unique
In its own special way.
As the photographer knows
Every photograph s/he has ever taken,
It seems just so with this aphoristic compendium.
And still the font flows with thoughts anew.

* * * *
What a journey this life has been.
And as has ever been true,
There is really no telling
Exactly what will happen next.

* * * *
The mystery continues, ever you, ever insoluble.

* * * *
Far away is the same near as here.

* * * *
History buries all.

* * * *
The masks and minds may change,
But the Soul is ever the same.

* * * *
Start digging and eventually you come to realize
The whole thing is just one el grande assumption.

* * * *
How can the nothingness that was never born ever die.

* * * *
So many windmills, Don Quixote,
And so little time.

* * * *
Time does really not exist
But that you, through sensory perception,
Imagine it momentarily so.

* * * *
What is not the face of godness.

* * * *
What a world, what world,
And we so foolishly carefree
In the mayhem we cast upon it.

* * * *
A rose by any other name
Is still imagination's game.

* * * *
Another historical nugget to be buried and forgotten.

* * * *
Better to die alone
Than be smothered by a herd.

* * * *
To be chosen, you must first volunteer.

* * * *
Always something more to acquire.

* * * *
The wonders of serendipity are seemingly ceaseless.
Enough to motivate even the hardest cynic
To re-immerse in the child mind.

* * * *
Humankind was not cast out of Eden.
We just became so enamoured with imagination
That we ceased paying attention to the stillness of eternity.

* * * *
No individual or group can lay claim
To ownership of the unknown.
All are witness to the vast mystery
In which all forms play out equal parts.

* * * *
The missing component is laughter.
Laughter at all the irony and absurdity.
Laughter at the inane attachment
To everything imagined.

* * * *
To be born again is to begin each moment anew.

* * * *
You are Adam, you are Eve,
Still choosing the forbidden fruit,
Still turning your back on Eden's reality.
You were not cast out of the garden;
You simply stopped wondering,
And starting knowing.

* * * *
Trade shoes with anyone and everyone,
And wander a mile or so
To see any view
As valid as your own.

* * * *
You are final arbiter of your brief play of time.

* * * *
What a handicap to be weighted down
By gods, ancestors and time in general.

* * * *
The challenge is to wrap one's mind around the fact
That the ultimate nature can do it all simultaneously.

* * * *
The same me that is you.
The same you that is me.

* * * *
You tell the truth if you do not need to lie.
You play fair if there is no reason to cheat.
You wake up if you are no longer sleepy.
You are full if you have eaten enough.

* * * *
Eat your rice,
Clean your bowl,
Take a nap,
Rise,
Wander on.

* * * *
If there is really nothing else
You really want to do,
Do nothing well.
Reality never sleeps.

* * * *
Four-letter words better left unspoken include:
Love, hope, hate, just, fate, nice, true . . .
And, no doubt, so many more.

* * * *
Why get angry about something
That is really too absurd
To bother about.

* * * *
Idolatry is idolatry is idolatry,
No matter the form or concept.

* * * *
Forget everything.

* * * *
You have seen the future,
And it is now.

* * * *
The grand "if."

* * * *
Oh boy, another memoir.

* * * *
It’s always been there,
Waiting for you to look, to see clearly
The unfathomable source of your time-bound existence,
That to which you are eternally bound.

* * * *
No arguing with physics --
Mass, velocity and vectors.

* * * *
How can a drop in the ocean
Ever contemplate its true nature
Until it is cast into separation.

* * * *
Where there is a will, there is a Way.

* * * *
Another stone cold wacko.

* * * *
Agape knows no hell.

* * * *
History is but the relative perspective
Of geographical assumptions
And the myriad cultures they inspire.

* * * *
Cynics are the fruit of idealistic notion gone reality.

* * * *
From fist to rock to club to sword.
From spear to sling to bow to catapult.
From rifle to cannon to tank to plane to rocket
From chemical, biological and nuclear to whatever’s next.
Ever the same evolving, conflicted monkey mind.
What will it take for this divisive species
To get past its "civilized" ways.

* * * *
To merely seek a comfortable state is meaningless.
Do not equate a lethargic, passive mind
With one reborn in awareness.

* * * *
Once you marry godness, there can be no divorce,
No matter what you do with your manifest existence.

* * * *
Each of us takes on one role or another,
Perhaps many in any given lifetime,
In our attempt to participate in the cultural dynamic.
The challenge is not believing you are the attributes of any part,
That you need not identify at the core with anything you do,
That it is only a pretense, a chameleon act for those
Who are caught up in this deluded theater.

* * * *
It is your desire for freedom that sets you free.

* * * *
How can you ever hope to merge with heaven
If you cannot even abide your neighbor.

* * * *
Only in that essential "I Am" state
Can anyone even begin to fathom the agape,
The unconditional indivisibility from which all form springs.

* * * *
You are not the body.
You merely temporarily inhabit it
Until death washes it away.

* * * *
Freedom is a birthright.
It is as simple as simple can get.
To attain that quality, everything within and without must be tossable.
Though you may have many things, think many thoughts,
And even participate actively in the world,
With a sense of inner austerity,
You can still be free.

* * * *
Why should anyone
Ever feel the need to apologize
Or justify being the persona they manifest?
We are all just windswept fabrications of imagination.

* * * *
The witness is equally in all creatures, all forms great and small.
It is one vast ever-changing mystery theater, with everyone
Starring at center stage in their own unique production.

* * * *
It is an amazing mystery,
Impossible, no doubt,
But there it is, nonetheless

* * * *
What did your face look like before its conception?
What will it look like after the food-body dissolves?


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