28 November 2009

Chapter 175 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXV

We are still in the unfolding genesis,
And will be for as long as time endures.

* * * *
Let us all help one another discover
This eternal insight into our ultimate nature.
It is a journey all have an equal birthright to discern.

* * * *
How privileged you are to witness
The vastness beyond the personal aspect.
Yet be cautious of the arrogance it can bring about,
For it in no way makes you superior
To anything or anyone else.

* * * *
You and the father and mother,
Or whatever you may call it, are one
Whether you become conscious of it or not.

* * * *
The bane of the human tendency to band together
Is that the resulting synergy too often becomes an end in itself
With less and less concern for the individuals that it supposedly serves.

* * * *
These writings will bring about
The end of the world as you know it.

* * * *
Healing the sick, walking on water, raising the dead,
Changing water to wine, resurrecting oneself…
So what?

* * * *
To be born into the world,
Each raised in the knowledge
That they are that which is godness,
Void of all superstition, ritual and dogma…
Now that would be heaven on earth.

* * * *
Perchance it might aid in changing things.

* * * *
To discern all potentials within,
Yet choose only those that benefit all,
Those looking to the greater good,
That is the nature of those
Who see they are
The suns of godness.

* * * *
Attachment to the world is all in your mind,
But when was it ever really “your” mind?

* * * *
Free will is the illusion.
It is the maze to which the key
To freedom is surrender.

* * * *
What a mystery this day-to-day
A dream both real and unreal,
A vapor passing ever now.

* * * *
All the sustenance of the world
Cannot feed the hungry soul,
Nor quench its savage thirst.

* * * *
“A work of straw,” exclaimed one author
Of his philosophical works at his deathbed.
True enough, but wasn’t it good fun at the time?

* * * *
From womb and sandbox
To playground and classroom.
From local to national to international,
From earth to galaxy to universe,
The journey of imagination,
From finite to infinite,
Is without limits.

* * * *
Buddha, Jesus, Lao Tzu,
And all the many others
Have all been played.
Now you play you.
There is no need
To imitate them.

* * * *
It is not what or how you think,
But the movement of thought itself
That must be discerned to comprehend
That which seeks is that that which is sought.
The flickering passage of consciousness
Is the patterning, is the youness,
The nowness, the isness,
The godness,
The one
And only one.

* * * *
However it is named is only a name.

* * * *
The journey, be it fast or slow,
Is ever of the same motionlessness.

* * * *
In the stillness, time and space are transcended.

* * * *
Truth is imperceptible.

* * * *
You are the eternal fact unfolding in dreamtime.

* * * *
The way you see the universe
In which you wander
Is founded upon
Whatever information
Your mythos has provided you.

* * * *
Is illusion even possible without language?

* * * *
If you were truly free,
Would it, could it
Even occur to you?

* * * *
When everything in the day-to-day is complete,
Give space your time and time your space.

* * * *
You may as well live courageously.
What point is there to fearing your fate
When all ends are the same grave?

* * * *
Pride is the destroyer of Eden.

* * * *
Reaction is founded upon conditioning,
Response upon effortless discernment.

* * * *
Forget all you think you know.
It is all an encumbrance
To discerning the way home.

* * * *
All you are is words.

* * * *
Perfection of the personality is a non-issue.
Fusion within is not a matter of class,
Ethnicity, culture, creed or politics.
Nor any patterning the flittering
Of consciousness might undertake.
It is a journey playing out whatever cards,
Be they fair or not, that any given fate has dealt.

* * * *
Can the manifest plane
Ever know true harmony?
Only time will tell.

* * * *
In a way difficult to express,
Whether pleasurable or painful,
How equal each moment becomes.

* * * *
So many praying for forgiveness,
Never seeing they need only
Forgive themselves.

* * * *
Once you discover your true nature,
What is there to do with the time remaining
But whatever the path of least resistance offers?

* * * *
All this emphasis on fun, pleasure, entertainment.
Would any of it be necessary if you were content?

* * * *
Potential is only as good as one’s interest in pursuing it.

* * * *
Nothing’s never good enough for so many.

* * * *
The pot once again declares the kettle black.

* * * *
Hmmm… to which conspiracy theory should you subscribe?

* * * *
Nothing’s the potential in all.

* * * *
A wild mix of incoherence.

* * * *
Amazing how any fact
Can be twisted around
By the need to believe.

* * * *
Tugging at the plug.

* * * *
You are far more a breath than a thought.

* * * *
We all break each other’s cherries sooner or later.

* * * *
Realize that all meaning and purpose is born in your mind.
It is your creation, your speculation, your collusion.
It is not verifiable in any way, shape or form.
Pretend what you will, all identification
Is a surreal, momentary dream.
You are proof of that.

* * * *
Be content that it is so.

* * * *
In far less than a hundred years,
You will not care one diddly-squat
What anyone said or thought of you,
Or even what you thought of yourself.

* * * *
Death is one big eraser.

* * * *
Future generations will look back at this era,
And curse us for what we have done to them.

* * * *
You must use your personal view
To extrapolate the infinite one.

* * * *
Ancient superstitions founded
Upon the ignorance and resulting fears
Of the human psyche continue to wreak havoc.
To discern the fear, its source,
And the causelessness prior to it,
Is the challenge each must face alone.

* * * *
What a pathetic mockery
This world’s so-called religious leaders
Have made of this mystery.

* * * *
Habits are made to be broken.

* * * *
To see how insignificant you are in this infinity
Is to discern how infinite you truly are.

* * * *
Dead poets don’t require compensation.

* * * *
Even if we were all see to this,
Life would remain very much a challenge.
The issue is how much better we could get along
With fewer inane dogmatic assertions.

* * * *
Yes indeed, that’s very Christian.
Very Christian, indeed.

* * * *
How is it so many remain blind to the hellish blaspheme
They have been corn fed by so-called spiritual leaders
Since long before the seeds of culture took root?

* * * *
The personality who engraved these words is unimportant,
Merely a focus of useless chatter and speculation.
The continued parody of ceaseless thought.
Find your Self, and you will know every scribe,
Every seer and mystic this dream has ever known.

* * * *
The only real solution to the human drama
Is seeing clearly what we truly are.
From that, what will blossom
Has yet to be written.

* * * *
Organized religion is like leftover silage.

* * * *
We are following the trails of peoples
Who never observed the universe
Through telescopes or microscopes,
Who never witnessed the earth from space,
Who never discerned any geography outside their own.
Why do we allow them sway over our time?

* * * *
Is what we are doing
With our ballooning population
Really any different than flies swarming
Over a three-day-old pile of shit?

* * * *
We are all the suns of man and god.

* * * *
Condemnation leaves no room for understanding.

* * * *
How arduous it is to discern the unity
Behind the many masks of diversity.

* * * *
No one else can ever grasp what your eyes see,
Your ears hear, your tongue tastes, your nostrils smell,
Your skin senses, or your mind ponders.
Your pleasures and pains,
Your heaven or hell,
The universe
You have created,
Is yours and yours alone.

* * * *
You are the spawn of eternity.

* * * *
You are a student of consciousness.
Masked by countless masks,
It is ever the same.

* * * *
There’s really nothing that needs to be said or written,
But consciousness is absorbed in its endless chatter.
Somewhat akin to Narcissus falling for his reflection.

* * * *
Here we go again.

* * * *
Terrorists are as impossible to battle as ants, cockroaches or flies.
They just keep on streaming from unseen corners,
And there is always another day.

* * * *
The passion of hate
Is all but inexhaustible.

* * * *
The only difference between any you
And a wafting curl of smoke
Is consciousness.

* * * *
Another unwinnable war.

* * * *
A woman’s view of reality is often in no way realistic.

* * * *
A dancing cloud of atoms
Reforming again and again.

* * * *
In all reflections sits the god of vanity.

* * * *
A new level of surrender.

* * * *
The churning pool has no time for reflection.

* * * *
The voice is the spring of the essential nature.

* * * *
To see the world in all its immeasurable detail
Is the blessing and curse of the mystical mind.

* * * *
Organized religions are towers of babble.

* * * *
The challenge for any soul
Is to somehow retain its innocence
In an oft times ruthless world.

* * * *
A coyote cannot hide its eyes for long.

* * * *
In all their ignorance,
Religions everywhere battle
Over that which is inherently given,
Over that which can never be subjugated,
Over that which no mind can no more than witness,
Over that which, despite all assertions,
Is prior to any given notion.

* * * *
Tell it to the judge.

* * * *
Ignorance creates faith to sustain its vanity.

* * * *
Are you content?
Why or why not (In 50 words or less)?

* * * *
Your mind is the expanding universe.

* * * *
Occasionally peek into places you normally wouldn’t.
You might learn something.

* * * *
The nefarious tribe at it again.
Oh well.


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