14 September 2009

Chapter 262 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CCLXII

If you only worship forms,
What will you have someday
But the dust of skeletons.

* * * *
Discern the insight that is real, find the courage
To journey into absolute, divine madness.
It is the surest way to the truth of you.

* * * *
Just because it isn't seen doesn't mean it isn't there.
Just because it is seen doesn't mean it is there.

* * * *
The inquiry is a solitary journey.
No one else can do it for you.

* * * *
The universe in your mind,
As infinite a portal as it may seem,
Is really a very finite dream.

* * * *
All obituaries at the core read the same.
S/he was born, experienced many things
And died, alone, and perhaps very painfully.

* * * *
In the relativity of the garden,
Who can with any real authority say
Where the lines of good and evil are drawn?

* * * *
The only resident evil in this dreamtime is humankind.
No animal, plant, insect or any other life form
Has ever suffered the delusion of hell.

* * * *
The obviousness of these many words
Will be lost upon all but the rarest of ears.

* * * *
While kings gain temporal glory
On battlefields in far distant lands,
Gardeners till eternity in their souls.

* * * *
Be cautious about what doors, windows,
And mysterious boxes you impulsively open,
For some are not easily, if ever, closed.

* * * *
It is relatively simple
To feel free up on a mountain
Smack dab in the middle of nowheresville,
With no one around, and of things mind-made, nary of sound.
See how long you can hold on to that serenity
Once you get back to civilization..

* * * *
No one can save you from yourself
But your Self.

* * * *
Eternal life has ever been.
From all beginnings to all endings,
The timeless infinity has ever been Self-evident
To any who give it their attention.

* * * *
The art of wishful thinking
Is widely practiced
To little avail.

* * * *
The grand unlearning
Is perhaps one of the greater challenges
This brief existence offers.

* * * *
The blandness of eternity,
Given the temporary flavoring
Of illusionary consciousness.

* * * *
The dream of time hath many players,
And many stages with many entrances.

* * * *
A little bit of you in everyone and everything.

* * * *
Some do, some watch, some run.

* * * *
It's all really just smoke and mirrors.
The trick is getting through the funhouse
Without getting all cut up by the broken glass.

* * * *
Why justify that which needs no justification.

* * * *
Ignorance, compounded daily,
Makes for serious consequences.

* * * *
Within the mind of each and every skull
Is a mystery theater of quantum proportion,
A smoky journey born of imagination's
Implacable capacity to play out
Every conceivable illusion.

* * * *
El Scribe.
A receiver unit, no more, no less.

* * * *
The currents of water,
The winds of air,
The flames of fire,
And the quakes of earth,
Are they truly all that different.

* * * *
Any so-called supreme being, who must still subscribe
To one finite set of capacities and limitations or another,
Is, in reality, not all that much greater than any given ant..

* * * *
More to be forgotten.

* * * *
There is really can be only one ultimate truth.
It is not my version, your version, or anyone else's version.
It is just truth, just reality -- plain, pure and simple --
Without any of the narcissistic pretences
To which the human mind
Inanely, incessantly subscribes.

* * * *
You are what you are.
All any of us can do is follow our nature
Wherever it may lead.

* * * *
It's not a universe where anything lasts forever.
So sorry.

* * * *
Give it up for the mystery, folks.

* * * *
Strategy and tactics
Must be balanced and coordinated
For any venture to be brought
To intended conclusion.

* * * *
So many things you will never even once experience.

* * * *
The issue is not whether or not there is a god.
In their incessant bickering, believers and atheists
Overlook the point that the real opportunity existence offers
Is the agnostic exploration of awareness, the portal to the eternal source.
It is the role of witness offered by consciousness
To that which all are equally given
A front row center seat.

* * * *
Prove this wrong if you can.

* * * *
To discern the gold,
The vein must be followed
Wherever it may lead.

* * * *
All destinies have their share of harsh moments,
But count yourself lucky if your portion
Is few and far between.

* * * *
You are reincarnated every moment
That you imagine your identity real.

* * * *
Awareness is eternal.
Consciousness, time.

* * * *
Ignorance rules.

* * * *
So much waiting for this or that.

* * * *
The currents of time mold every seed into destiny.

* * * *
All things gathered are eventually lost.
Wisdom, too, goes the way of the wind.

* * * *
Of mind, body and soul,
Little is known, but much is said.

* * * *
You are really the awareness
Of a moment prior to time.

* * * *
The blind cannot see the gold
That surrounds them every seamless moment
Of their brief self-absorbed existence.

* * * *
Any who see this mystery clear and true
Whether through pen, paintbrush or sword,
Become sovereign witness to the eternal way.

* * * *
What can this world offer the rare few
Who are prior to all worldly riches.
Gold is sand, and sand, gold,
For those whose fate it is
To see the unseen.

* * * *
Pride is the only real sin.
Separation from the absoluteness of totality
Is the calamity of all fallen angels.

* * * *
You are that which is prior to all possibilities.

* * * *
Eternal salvation
Begins right now
With union within.

* * * *
What good is a huge pile of gold
If there is no world in which to spend it?

* * * *
Quality is all.

* * * *
The burden of history grows daily greater.

* * * *
To whom is this written?

* * * *
The human paradigm is of no consequence
To totality's infinite, indifferent, inexorable wheel
Of creation, preservation and destruction.

* * * *
What are belief and hope,
But fear by different sounds.

* * * *
The indivisible absolute
Layered in relativistic notion.

* * * *
Like the wind,
Relationships ebb and flow.
It is very challenging to avert swirling
Through a variety of passions
Toward one another.

* * * *
What is good, what is bad?
What is up, what is down?
What is right, what is left?
What is north, what is south?
What is the same, what is different?
All arbitrary concoctions of sensory creation.

* * * *
Yet another set of followers
Proselytizing their ignorance.

* * * *
Malarkey swathed in doublespeak

* * * *
It is you who carries so-called karma
From this burdened moment to the next.

* * * *
Freedom is a state of mind
Clear of the potpourri of time.

* * * *
Death is just your turn.

* * * *
Each moment a new fate.

* * * *
A paradigm to which all humankind colludes.
A collusion of delusion.

* * * *
Identity is the weighty baggage
Of the mind's time-bound fabrication,
To which you pay a voluntary subscription.

* * * *
Only a child can see that the emperor,
Surrounded by sycophants,
Is really buck-naked.

* * * *
Looking for more of what you don't really need.

* * * *
Yet another version of the same old same old.

* * * *
All attributes to the contrary, there is no other,
Just the same me that is you in yet another flavor.
Ever the same mystery cloaked in so many disguises.

* * * *
I am you, and you are me,
And we are all one together.

* * * *
There is no normal,
Just statistical relativity.

* * * *
Whether it is reckoned by seconds,
Hours, days, years, breaths, heartbeats,
Steps, or some other mind-made mark of time,
Each is allotted only so many in their dreamy journey.

* * * *
Words are sounds given meaning
Through the collusion of consciousness.

* * * *
One is the same as the other.

* * * *
Some lead, some follow.
The rare few just do their own gig,
Indifferent to the will of the whimsical herd.

* * * *
All manifestation
Emerges, unfolds, evolves
Through the eternal, relative serendipity
Of space-time's quantum potential.

* * * *
Betrayal, to whatever degree,
Whether intentional or accidental,
Seems a constant in the human equation.

* * * *
The arbitrary nature of human truth
Is unceasingly, irrevocably debilitating.

* * * *
Perfection,
As idealized by consciousness,
Is inevitably flawed.

* * * *
Just a little game we play
By our Selves with our Selves.

* * * *
Humankind's capacity to manipulate
Has pushed back the natural limits in countless ways,
But the inevitable outcome is like a bear trap awaiting our arrival in time.
Mother Nature will not much longer abide an insolent species
Who carelessly defies the rules of the game.

* * * *
A brief, narcissistic existence
Filled with fabricated, delusionary meaning
Surrounded by an infinite ocean
Of purposelessness.

* * * *
Without imagination, where would you, could you be?

* * * *
Surrendering to the friend, the beloved
Is the most arduous, effortless thing imaginable.

* * * *
Thank god animals have hair,
And human beings wear clothes,
Else suicide would be more rampant
Than it already seems to be.

* * * *
You continue to try to exist,
But because time is not ultimately real,
It is only as firm as the make-believe of imagination.
It is the divine irony, the eternal paradox.

* * * *
It is all that trying so hard to believe
Which creates so much suffering.

* * * *
Whatever you imagine, makes it so,
In your own mind, in your brief time.

* * * *
How is it that we allow so many
Maniacal, greedy, corrupt personalities
To control our species' destiny?

* * * *
Once you understand
That it is you who has created
A separative concept of a supreme being,
It is you who must transform the dualistic assumption
Into a singular vision that includes you.

* * * *
Freedom is not a matter of mere assumption.
It is a state of mind absolutely clear
Of all pretense and assertion.


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