03 October 2009

Chapter 215 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CCXV

Everybody believing their universe so real.

* * * *
The pleasure button calleth.

* * * *
It is the idea of it you really crave.

* * * *
So, what does this vain
Omnipresent, potent, all-seeing god
(That you have created) really want from you?

* * * *
Why should you feel obligated
To play along with anyone's silliness?
(Including this wandering scribe’s).

* * * *
Having a quiet mind does not mean you are free.

* * * *
There is no need for religious identity
When you have recovered your original nature.

* * * *
No one has any right
To infringe upon your quest for sovereignty.

* * * *
Identity camouflages your essential nature.

* * * *
Maya will spin anything it can
To delude you into playing on its web.

* * * *
As a drunk is to drink,
You are addicted to the mind-body.

* * * *
You are an individual in mind only.

* * * *
When you are it, there is no center,
Only five senses functioning.
That there is a center is completely imagined.

* * * *
As much as older men
May want the younger babes,
There’s gonna be back trouble to pay.

* * * *
Whose idea of right and wrong
Do you subscribe to?

* * * *
If all your spirituality is based
On fear of punishment or craving for reward,
What you reap from all your ambitions
Will confound you even further.

* * * *
Nothing fulfills the puzzle.

* * * *
Can anyone or anything make you truly happy,
Or do they only distract you till they’re gone?

* * * *
Within every youthful stud
Is a withered, farting old geezer.
In every beauty, a dried-up crone of a hag.

* * * *
Prayer is just a self-absorbed excuse
To talk to yourself in a higher sense.

* * * *
To whom it concerns,
It’s all yours.

* * * *
Memory can be a great inconvenience.

* * * *
You walk among many ghosts.

* * * *
Depends on the day.

* * * *
Everywhere humanity seeks its original nature.
That so few find it is ignorance and misinformation.

* * * *
Get beyond the trap of words.
They and vivid imagination are the root of the problem.

* * * *
Imagination can be either blessing or curse.
A misdirected, undiscerning mind is a sojourn through hell.

* * * *
The unburdened are unconcerned with birth, life and death
They tread beyond the limits of concept.

* * * *
Serenity does not imply complacency.

* * * *
Who is born? Who dies?
The answer decries the suffering.

* * * *
Manifestation may ponder isness,
But isness tarries for nothing.

* * * *
"Why", you ask?
The impossible question.
Discern, instead, who has asked it.

* * * *
It takes a great deal of courage
To not want anything.

* * * *
Always return to the stillpoint.

* * * *
Who are you? What are you?
Where are you? When are you?
Why are you? How are you?
Amness answers all the above.

* * * *
Field notes from an observer.

* * * *
What most call love
Is merely clinging to comfort and security.

* * * *
What a prison self-imagery.

* * * *
A free ride dulls anyone.

* * * *
You are defined by your resistance.

* * * *
Relax and enjoy the day, the night.
There’s nothing to carpe.

* * * *
Moral of the story: Never record your crimes.

* * * *
All manifestation is sovereign, absolute.
Whatever you may do with it, respect its passing.

* * * *
Even if you sit regularly in meditation,
Without the edge of discernment
You will never be free.

* * * *
As long as there is a separate observer,
Objectivity is a meaningless concept.
The play of Maya is ever subjective.

* * * *
Denying any soul its process.
Only denies your own.

* * * *
When used to its potential, the mind becomes a flowering.
Most must practice discernment a great deal
To own the freedom implied.

* * * *
There is a mixture of audacity and humility
In surrender to the unmanifest.

* * * *
When the mind ceases to have limits,
That is liberation.

* * * *
How seriously you take yourself.
All that vanity for naught.

* * * *
The emperor had no clothes,
And neither, really, do you.

* * * *
As long as there is an observer,
Everything is subjective.

* * * *
Perhaps one of these days the faucet will turn off,
But one wonders if the mystery will allow it.

* * * *
Demanding or sweet as sugar,
Still they manipulate
As surely
As is their nature.

* * * *
A wolf amidst a flock
Tends to unnerve the sheep.

* * * *
Damage control often can’t.

* * * *
Why should you ever require
Another’s sanction?

* * * *
What a state of mind given no recourse.

* * * *
Your individual unity is indivisible.

* * * *
Your resistance, the walls to reality,
Is a hell of your own making.

* * * *
Allow the timeless
To melt like butter into your fabric.

* * * *
The gold you are cannot die.

* * * *
Love your Self.

* * * *
Love may participate in lust,
But lust alone is merely gratification
Of the mind's sensory cravings.

* * * *
Give over your desire and fear.
Allow the unmanifested the reigns of your being.

* * * *
Go into your imagination.
Turn it inside out and outside in.

* * * *
Why so many want to believe it all wonderful is a mystery.
Even an ostrich cannot plant its head as deeply in the sand.

* * * *
The undifferentiated state is not bound by manifestation.

* * * *
Your life is shaped
By whatever desires motivate your actions.

* * * *
We are all observers witnessing
Imagination’s countless concoctions.

* * * *
Funny how so many need others to masturbate them.

* * * *
What to do when life wanders into this mystical sense,
When just being is enough, and accumulation
Is less a factor than understanding.
And even that fades in time
Into an unconcern.

* * * *
Is it my imagination,
Or do salesmen all seem
To have the same predatorial smile?

* * * *
Passion.
She comes, she goes.
All in a dream, all in a dream.

* * * *
Such a thin band we reside in.

* * * *
Your urgency
Is in direct proportion
To your attachment.

* * * *
The desire for liberation at the core of your being
Burns away the dross of what is not.

* * * *
Every moment is pregnant with the song of godness.

* * * *
Duality creates illusionary choices.
When separation dissolves, choiceless awareness is.

* * * *
The trade-off for birth is death,
Ultimately illusions, but often painful nonetheless.

* * * *
All is perfection,
But you must vanquish fear of your own.

* * * *
Do not be a mindless sheep
Except in the highest sense.

* * * *
Do what you love to do
Until what you love to do is.

* * * *
Tolerate no ignorance within,
But practice patience without.

* * * *
What part do you most want to play?
Are you?

* * * *
Entertain doubts if you choose.
That is the continuing price of duality's delusion.

* * * *
Those not used to thinking get headaches
Or fall asleep when they ponder too much too long.

* * * *
The I Am is the essence that fulfills
The attributes of every container.

* * * *
Image is power, at least in this theater.

* * * *
I think I am
But am I a little I Am
Or a big I Am?

* * * *
Imagine yourself
Into the peace of godness.

* * * *
You want to be important,
Yet how can you ever really be
More important than anything else.

* * * *
What torture thought can inflict.

* * * *
Is the infant stillness either happy or sad?

* * * *
Self has woken to itself
In many ways since time immemorial.
This is just a current issue.

* * * *
Spread good karma.
What goes around gets around.

* * * *
Do not compromise your Self.

* * * *
If manifest time really existed,
We might be in real trouble.

* * * *
Inwardly strip yourself of everything.

* * * *
Merging into oneness
Is like being on a merry lifetime drunk.

* * * *
Why identify with time?

* * * *
What a sham, a lie you are.

* * * *
You see him practically every day in the media.
Why would you ever want to meet him?

* * * *
Where are we leading each other?

* * * *
One little ditty,
Two little ditties,
Three little ditties,
And more.

* * * *
Take care . . .
Wherever she takes you.

* * * *
Futile as all this is
Makes it kind of look like
You love a good beating.

* * * *
Nothing can touch you
But through your complicity.

* * * *
Unless you have great intellectual capacity and thirst,
The best way to read this sort of thing
Is a few at a time.

* * * *
Take early retirement.

* * * *
The dust swirls the senses
And leads you into every temptation.
God is such a rascal.


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