11 October 2009

Chapter 193 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLICIII

No thing can be yours for long.
Either it will wear out or get broken,
Be given away, sold, misplaced or stolen,
Or you will someday meet the venerated maker,
And it will undergo one destiny or another without you.

* * * *
Another life full of agony and ecstasy
About to enter the garden.
Is having children
Some sort
Of subconscious retribution?

* * * *
Lighten your soul.
Do not be burdened
By the toils and troubles
Of worldly existence.

* * * *
Do not confuse personality with the Soul.
One is a temporary concoction of consciousness,
And the other is, quite obviously, all there is.

* * * *
All organized religions
Are merely towers of babble
Locked in one delusion or another.

* * * *
Few listen for long to what they cannot hear.

* * * *
Do you really think you chose this?

* * * *
How tragically so many approach their lives.

* * * *
Positive attitude . . . so often delusional smatitude.

* * * *
If the world does not love you enough,
Then learn to love your Self.

* * * *
How more impressive
Those who live admirable lives
Amid the chaos of this unfolding mystery.

* * * *
The gold you are has no meaning
To those drowning in ignorance.

* * * *
How can there be peace between the many
If there is none within the one?

* * * *
You do not need to know
The specifics of another’s life
To understand the nature of passion
For which all existence chooses to suffer.

* * * *
Many are called, but few are chosen
To witness that which none can see but within.

* * * *
The drop that thinks itself so high and mighty
Before gravity draws it back into the ocean.

* * * *
So many choices.
Which to experience?
One, some, all or none?

* * * *
The mind is the river.

* * * *
Totality trumps all.

* * * *
The shifting sand of concept
Take us down many roads.

* * * *
It is your eye that creates the universe.
* * * *
Consciousness is the veil,
The maker of all mirages.

* * * *
You are all time.
Savor it as best ye may.

* * * *
It will not, cannot stop for anyone or anything.
The vapor of illusion is a ceaseless changing.

* * * *
You’ve forgotten them,
Why would they remember you?

* * * *
Without function, form is but a vague shadow of meaning.

* * * *
Relax! It’s only life.

* * * *
Even the strongest can throw a feather no farther than a child.

* * * *
What’s beyond infinity?

* * * *
You must explore it for yourself
To your own satisfaction.

* * * *
Peel the hair and skin off anyone,
And there isn’t much to brag about.

* * * *
Vanity dances with itself in so many reflections.

* * * *
You keep opening these eyes
Just to find out once again
Who you are pretending to be.

* * * *
We all find our little bandwagon.

* * * *
The mystics pass through the rocky straights,
Ears unplugged to test the bounds of temptation.

* * * *
Behind every mask
Is a view of your own existence
That you will never see.

* * * *
This day will be remembered and forgotten,
As are all others.

* * * *
Withdraw until you can stand freely in the midst of it,
Untouched.

* * * *
Be happy while ye may
For the reaping angel of death
Will soon enough take your dream away.

* * * *
The future is cast from the past.

* * * *
Humanity must at some point endure
A great deal of destruction and chaos
To return to a stable, viable equilibrium.
None can trek beyond their means for long.

* * * *
Will is imagination fabricating individuality.

* * * *
Who does not spend at least part of their day
Contemplating their heart of gold
In this vain world.

* * * *
You have made life altogether to serious.

* * * *
Enjoy even the leftovers
And hand-me-downs,
And you will be content.

* * * *
The mystery takes on the attributes
Of the given seed in which it dwells,
But is not bound to the form any more
Than water is the bank along which it runs.

* * * *
Those raised by nature intuitively know the way.

* * * *
Doubt is not comfortable,
Therefore few do very deeply.

* * * *
Truth is all-inclusive
Exclusion is delusion.

* * * *
When you were not even much younger,
There were many things that mattered
A whole lot more than they do now.

* * * *
Breath begins and ends all drama.

* * * *
Born to die,
And a dream between.

* * * *
Get over yourself.

* * * *
Any given other is a package deal,
Without which the pieces alone
Would mean little or nothing.

* * * *
Truth doesn’t change.

* * * *
The mind is the measurer, the judge and jury.

* * * *
Of all there is to know, you know so little.
Of all there is to not know, you know nothing.

* * * *
Personality is the flaw.

* * * *
I am therefore I bother.

* * * *
If you let it, the mind will always wander its creation.

* * * *
People tend to do a lot of things
Both astounding and stupid,
Intentional or otherwise.
It is, after all, a drama of sorts.

* * * *
You’re just along for the ride.
Try not to take it too personally.

* * * *
It’s just a mystery.
No biggee, really.

* * * *
If everyone would just mind their own business,
Perhaps we’d get along a tad better.

* * * *
Greed is such a bother.

* * * *
The price of life is death
And all the suffering
One must endure.

* * * *
There is ultimately no escape from reality.

* * * *
Two legs does not a human being make.

* * * *
It is whatever you think it is, and none of it.
All the same.

* * * *
Those who have little,
And those who have it all,
Come to the same conclusion.

* * * *
The resolution to suffering
Is the eternal life of personal death.

* * * *
From queue to queue,
You wander the human zoo.

* * * *
Humanity sprints toward an increasingly uncertain future.

* * * *
Do you suppose cockroaches,
Rats, flies, ants, and other scavengers
Will be near as successful without all our leftovers?

* * * *
Traditional symbols, rituals, conceptual places of any sort,
Are thumb-sucking blanket-clutching habits
Used to ward off the insecurity
We all imagine.
Crutches we believe necessary
In a journey in which everything eventually falls away.

* * * *
Your ability to adapt to change
Is the oil of your effortless nature.

* * * *
True ignorance is bliss.

* * * *
The mind is a product of the conflict of dualist divisions.
For it to seek peace requires the dissolution of willfulness.

* * * *
You want a mystical experience?
Try picking your nose until it bleeds.

* * * *
Eternity is very long and very short.

* * * *
The sovereignty of amness
Ends all need for hope.

* * * *
True integrity does not spring from dogmatic assertion.
It is the natural outcome of any who discern
The intuitive human potential.

* * * *
There is only one way,
But within its infinite potential,
Every form of limitation is possible.

* * * *
Imagine what notions you please,
But restrain yourself from acting them out
If they would harm others in any way, shape or form.

* * * *
The plan of godness appears to be to manifest
Into every conceivable manifestation
The rules of the universe allow.
An experiment of free will,
If ever there was.

* * * *
What a chameleon you are.

* * * *
Step back into the larger context
To take the one you are in
Less personally.

* * * *
The difficulty with righteousness
Is that it often becomes another guise
Of arrogant self-absorption in the limited sense.
The ways of vanity seem nearly infinite
In variety, scope and number.

* * * *
Good and evil,
Just different vain views
Forever struggling passionately
On an imagined spectrum.

* * * *
Working with or for someone else
Should not mean you must adopt
Their attitude, passion or beliefs.

* * * *
What is there out there for you, really?

* * * *
Rome does as Rome is.

* * * *
No use confusing the point
With accurate information.

* * * *
Sometimes time is slow,
Other times so quickly it passes.
Like a river, it freezes, flows and dashes.

* * * *
Treasure those not out to get into your wallet.

* * * *
There can be no reconciliation
In a mind bent on differences.

* * * *
If you can’t see it, it just isn’t your turn.

* * * *
Nothing so tiring as unsolicited, foolish advice.

* * * *
Though still curiously enticing,
Women become much less fascinating
As you get older, and supposedly a tad wiser.

* * * *
Each mind weaves its own reality,
None of it real, of course,
But full of imaginary passion just the same.

* * * *
Death is the thief of all time.

* * * *
A frame of reference
That is all-encompassing
Is a bit challenging to define.


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