12 September 2009

Chapter 263 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CCLXIII

Reincarnation is imagination gone native.

* * * *
If you comprehend you are the stillness
Prior to all form, prior to all fabrications of mind,
You wander about with the same discernment as the fellow
Rumored to have said, "Before Abraham, I Am."

* * * *
Polluted ground, air and water
Make for tough going.
Pity the future,
Awash in all our sewage.

* * * *
How convenient it is for the multitude
Only capable of misinterpreting and usurping
The true meaning of those given vision.

* * * *
Until they stabilize in consciousness,
Mystics often have a rough trail
Because they wander
Down so many.

* * * *
If you take the concept out of god,
The mystery it has ever been
Must also include you.

* * * *
History shows us
The confused results
Of even the best intentions.

* * * *
What would life be like
If you were not giving so much energy
To the ever-present reincarnation
Of an imagined identity?

* * * *
To be eternally saved,
You must take responsibility
For your own awakening.

* * * *
The natural state is a vast aloneness.
It is consciousness that fabricates loneliness,
And its endless capacity for suffering.

* * * *
Some might call it harsh and sharp,
Others benign and malleable,
It is in reality both,
Yet neither.

* * * *
How does one explain paradox and irony
To those who have not fathomed
The subtlety to discern
Their endless permutations.

* * * *
Mother Nature, in all her glory,
Has innumerable ways to rub you out
If you offer her the opening.

* * * *
How is it that you reached this point in time?
Curious, this mystery we so glibly call fate.

* * * *
No order to these many reflections.
In their long transcription, they have been mixed
And re-mixed too many times to count.
So open your Self to any page
To fathom the moment
In which you eternally dwell.

* * * *
You are life, you are death,
Every moment.

* * * *
Again, paradox and irony.

* * * *
Doubt what you must doubt to be free.

* * * *
To which now will you choose to surrender?

* * * *
Even the wind must still itself to catch its breath.

* * * *
It takes a great deal of courage
To dissolve the many barriers set before you
By the mythos into which your mortal seed has been cast.

* * * *
Not easy being sane in an insane world.

* * * *
If you believe "Love thy Self"
Means the name, the identity, the personality,
Guess again.

* * * *
Whether through implausible accident or divine plan,
Here we are, and this is what we have made of it.

* * * *
You are not required to participate
In this worldly theater in any particular fashion
But through your own collusive volition.

* * * *
Jesters are ironic witnesses
To the paradoxes of the court.

* * * *
Those who survive the calamity ahead
Will deal with it as geography and circumstance allow.
Consciousness will ever contend with the demons of its own making
But for as long as humanity plays out its vain existence
The source of all things will ever remain
The same sovereign mystery.

* * * *
Look beyond your ephemeral portion of time,
And discern the joy of the cosmic play within.

* * * *
An immeasurable dream.
Absolute fantasy that it can be,
Or needs to be quantified in any way.
What was Eden like before our fall from grace?

* * * *
The innumerable injustices of this world,
As ultimately illusory as they mysteriously are,
Have wandered well beyond any reasonable reckoning.

* * * *
The outcome of cancer
Is the annihilation of its host,
And thus, intentionally or not, itself.
A very curious paradigm, indeed.

* * * *
Though it is a remarkable dream,
It need not be the nightmare that we have made it.
So much to unlearn, and little or no time
To retrieve the original offer.

* * * *
Words, whether spoken or written,
Do not readily translate into clear reality
In an unaware, unawakened mind.

* * * *
The many voices of time echo in your mind.
It is very arduous to still them enough
To discern reality for your Self.

* * * *
Always be extremely hesitant
About adopting another's vanity.

* * * *
Go beyond all desire for power, light or truth.

* * * *
The vast eternal presence you ever are
Is your friend, companion and lover.
Those moments of unawareness
Are tasteless, barren, desolate,
Like a tree without leaves or flowers.

* * * *
If your existence is merely about
Accumulating this or that,
Or experiencing that or this,
You have, indeed, entirely missed
The real opportunity this mystery offers.

* * * *
Grace is the timeless origin.

* * * *
You are the temple, church, synagogue,
Mosque, basilica, tabernacle, chapel, house of god,
Or whatever you vainly choose to call what need not be named.

* * * *
What anyone else thinks of you
Is of no real importance, whatsoever.
Better to wander alone, free and absolute,
Than to die surrounded by a motley herd of fools.

* * * *
Better to awaken for even one moment
Than to live a life unaware of the truth.

* * * *
Truth is not about Jesus,
Buddha, Lao Tzu, Mohammed,
Or any other prophet, mystic or seer.
There are no middlemen in the eternal quest
For the only reality there has ever been, or will ever be.

* * * *
What more freeing a message could there ever be,
But that you, sovereign and unassailable,
Are one with all that is and is not.

* * * *
It is your fear that imprisons you.

* * * *
All desire for this or that
Is ultimately the eternal hunger
For the contentment of Self.

* * * *
How attached we human beings are to all our words,
Quibbling endlessly over concepts that simply use different sounds
To articulate what is ultimately the same timeless mystery.
There is only oneness, and in that otherlessness,
There is really nothing to fight about.

* * * *
Those who are content within
Do not wage war without.

* * * *
The atoms scientists keep splitting
Into smaller and smaller bits of nothingness,
Is it not clearly obvious that they, too, are really you?
Has not science proven many times beyond a reasonable doubt,
That which, in its early history, it so rationally doubted?
There is, indeed, a god, and it includes you.

* * * *
The warrior dies on the field of battle;
The gardener, in his garden.

* * * *
It is not about me.
It is not about you.
It is about what we truly are.

* * * *
We are all different universes
Sculpted of the same Way.

* * * *
Every fate a preoccupation.

* * * *
Odds are, god's will
Will very coincidentally
Resemble your own.

* * * *
Imagine that.

* * * *
The inner demon
Raises its dysfunctional little head
Again and again in the darker corridors of consciousness.

* * * *
There are things that you know that I do not,
And things I know that you do not.
Knowledge is like that.

* * * *
Any teacher that burdens you with dogma,
Or seeks your approbation or servitude in any way,
Should be left in the dust of your wander.

* * * *
Any given earnest seeker
Will eventually discern the same Way
Every other earnest seeker ever has or ever will.
Everything else is light show distraction.

* * * *
Be true to thy Self,
And it will be true to you.

* * * *
It is the resistance that creates the havoc.
Surrender to that which is prior to all choice.

* * * *
The many faces, costumes and names
Given to the innumerable idols of human invention
Are ever masks of the same faceless Way.
There is really no other but through
The potpourri of imagination.

* * * *
With all that reverence for what your ancestors said and id,
All that fear-ridden absorption in this tradition or that,
Only perpetuates the same limited perception.

* * * *
The scribe who wrote all this
Should be of little or no concern.
That it was penned from Self to Self
Is all that really matters.

* * * *
To fearlessly discern death
Is to be free to fully live.

* * * *
The many who follow
Will only change the course
Humankind has vaingloriously set
When they judiciously choose their leaders
Instead of them picking themselves.
Genuine, judicious leadership
Is a selfless service
To the one in all

* * * *
This is idealistic only to those who do not see.

* * * *
Seeking wisdom is a fool's end..

* * * *
Aloneness is the sovereign sanctuary.

* * * *
Seek out mirrors
Who are true agents of the absolute.
They will reflect, without burden, that reality which all truly are.

* * * *
All forms are little more
Than temporary twists and turns
Of limited perception.

* * * *
Imagine a world in which
There is mutual respect for all by all,
And then make it happen.

* * * *
Despite the apparent violence
Perceived by the wavering mind,
Volcanoes, hurricanes, earthquakes,
Nuclear explosions, big bangs and the like
Are but serene currents in the eternal unfolding.

* * * *
Random breeding begets random outcomes.

* * * *
Buy, possess,
Sell, toss, recycle
Over and over again,
Until death do you part.

* * * *
Even many thousands of years ago,
Anyone with a keen sense of how things work
Could postulate the fall humankind must inevitably endure.
The observation: What goes up must come down
Has been around a long, long time.

* * * *
No other beast
Can match the vicious barbarity
Humanity daily wrecks upon all creatures great and small.
To be treated humanely can, indeed,
Be a dubious fate.

* * * *
Unless you enjoy an endless game of hide and seek,
All the forgetting and remembering inspired by the sensory theater,
Why would the real you ever again choose to separate
From that which is prior to all wombs.

* * * *
All creation,
'Tis but the blink of the eternal eye.

* * * *
There is a direct correlation
Between surrender and joy.

* * * *
If there really is some sort of supreme being
Witnessing this spinning aquarium
Playing out its little drama,
That appears to be all it is doing.
An absentee landlord if ever there was one.

* * * *
Despite what the many mirrors about you might reflect,
Despite what all those caught up in the sensory world might believe,
Despite the fact that the masses are all but clueless
About what there is to truly comprehend,
It is not you who is insane.

* * * *
For every moment of creation,
There is an equal moment of destruction.
Destruction is merely the other side of the spinning coin.

* * * *
The world needs leaders
Who can move beyond the polarization
Of parochial, partisan politics.

* * * *
The children of tomorrow will blossom
Upon the same eternal mountain, as have we.
They will abide as the choices available allow, as have we.
They will witness the sensory play, as have we.
There is nothing new under the sun
But every moment anew.

* * * *
Existence is about phases,
Every moment a unique opportunity,
Which the mind weaves into an imaginary continuity
Which has no basis in reality, whatsoever.

* * * *
It is really too simple for words.


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