14 April 2013

Chapter 156 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CLVI

That you believe
There is even a journey
Is perhaps the greatest delusion.

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To discern oneness within,
What humbler fate could you ask?

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It is probably impossible
Not to be a hypocrite at some points.
This is not about idealism.

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Good actors, lousy script.

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The challenge of being conscious
Is not identifying with it,
At least occasionally.

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Be the undeclared fool, loyal to all and none.

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Mean what you say and say what you mean.
Or say one thing, mean another,
Fool’s choice.

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All forms are expendable.

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Your true greatness has nothing to do
With your consciousness
Or the form
Through which it manifests.

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Apprentice, journeyman, master
No real difference.

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The abeyance of thought is the ending of time.

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Scour the mind as a scientist
Would an atom or the universe.
But without all the naming.

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Good and evil exist only in consciousness.
Once seen for its transient nature,
Good and evil disappear.

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All wander about impressing others with their vanity,
But who sees beyond the endless chatter
And discerns the greatest whole?

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A strange fate.

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It is consciousness which muddies up the river.

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You will play out your version,
But never, never, never
Think it the only one.

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Original sin or original delusion?

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So many seeking the higher high,
But all are of the mind,
And imagination
Is always bound by its own limits.

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The reality of a fight is that no one really wins.
The one who thinks himself victor
Is usually at least sporting a sore hand.

* * * *
All are inspired in different ways.
Each must follow inner vision to its end.
Together, all visions, despite their delusion,
Are what make the theater the play it is
To the end which all dramas come.

* * * *
Learn.
Learn what?
It all comes full circle.

* * * *
How long will it take you
To realize how little
You really know?

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The trouble with reality is it’s so real.

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Sometimes the fingers and toes
Seem as  distant as the stars.

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There is no your soul or my soul.
There’s just Soul.

* * * *
It’s gone
As all things in time are.

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Sorrow is the attachment to mind and body.

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You are the definition of uptight.

* * * *
Just another demon sent upon this world
To wreak havoc and torment this world and its innocents
In as many ways as imagination allows.

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At some point you may as well turn your back on it.

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It’s a lesson you may never learn.

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Those who ponder thoughts such as these
Transcend all the boundaries of limited thinking
And integrate into the single-minded understanding,
A choiceless vision prior to all modes of consciousness.

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Extremes of any convention
Are all poison at some point.

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Once you have healed the schism within,
What is there to prove to another?
You are proof enough.

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Each rots in their own hell
Or soars in their heaven.

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The true warrior allows an opponent graceful retreat.
Coup need not be counted with death.

* * * *
The harsh reality is that many do not give a flying hooey
If anyone survives past their immediate gratification.

* * * *
We have not yet deeply realized
That the tap root of science is subjective intuition.
From where else can any hypothesis come?

* * * *
A magical enterprise engineered from practically nothing.

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Your identity will wash back into the ocean,
But what you truly are will ascend again and again,
Ever the same eternal, sovereign kernel of absoluteness.

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The greatest gift is the acceptance of respect.

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Princes and paupers of the same dusty origin.

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There’s nothing romantic about it.

* * * *
Arrogant attempts to appease or rival an imaginary god
Only paint irony upon what you already are,
Have always been, and will ever be.

* * * *
Give it up.

* * * *
How many ways we adore our vanity.

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All must achieve god-realization
At the same point in time
For the fall of Eden to come full circle.

* * * *
Not likely.

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The surrender of knowledge
Is the end of mind as you know it.

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To those fragments of time yet to come,
Forgive your ancestors for their ignorance.
They truly could not see nor understand
What will perhaps one day
Be as ordinary as it is not today.

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Feel the oblivion within.

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Not a goal many foster.

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A harmonious mind is the highest order.
Disharmony is the source of all suffering.

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The eyes tell truths beyond all words.

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Keep practicing.
You might figure it out someday,
Despite yourself.

* * * *
All the words in the world
Will not for a moment
Contentment bring.

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All mythological constraints
Are bargains with time
Which you need not embrace.

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You are the same I Amness
It has ever been and will ever be.

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There is no point in following another’s law
If you have the capacity to discern you own.

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It’s all arbitrary.

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Outward excess reflects inner poverty.

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Humanity, can you hear your fate knocking?

* * * *
Admitting your cowardly nature to yourself
Is the first step toward the immortal courage.

* * * *
What do cockroaches, rats and critics have in common?
Isn’t it obvious?

* * * *
If you get sidelined by a wave,
Don’t blame the wave.

* * * *
The antichrists are the ones
Who point their finger at the other.
True christs will say there is no such thing.

* * * *
Make your burdens light.

* * * *
Your truly are lost in space.

* * * *
God and devil are both merely concepts
Woven by minds bound by duality.

* * * *
This sliver of time you occupy
Misrepresents your true nature.
That mystery which you really are
Transcends the interactive play
Of sun, earth and heaven.

* * * *
The burden of civilization
Is your choice to carry or not.

* * * *
Irony is so many praying for heaven
While competing for a position in hell.

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That which you truly are
Has never suffered even once.
Only in consciousness is there such illusion.

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Detachment in the world that is known
Requires an interplay between oblivion and form,
A balance arduous to maintain amid the many gusts of passion.

* * * *
Fill the space with spacious breathing.

* * * *
The state’s law is the law of will
Shaped by the twists and turns of history.
Morality is just accepted collusion.

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You are as real as I Am ever can be.

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Outer space, inner space.
No difference.

* * * *
You wonder how this was written?
Frankly, it wrote itself.

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Creation, preservation, destruction.
Illusions all.

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In both pleasure and pain
Resides the same space.

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Don’t ingest a drug
Unless you are ready for the teaching,
Because once you start the lesson doesn’t stop till its done.

* * * *
All value is subjective.

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Knowledge is the wedge
Separating earth from heaven.

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Glory never makes it to the grave.

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The body is just compost waiting to happen.

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You may have adopted another’s law,
But it is still your own version.
The question is, is it truly your voice?
Or are you merely another repetitive imitation?

* * * *
To become the spaciousness
At the source of your beingness
Is the beginning and ending of time.

* * * *
When mass dissolves, where can it be
But where it was all along?

* * * *
Yes, all too predictable, sorry.

* * * *
Words such as these
Are not easily embraced
By the emotionally attached
Or the faint of heart.

* * * *
You have been chattering to yourself
Since you learned to speak.

* * * *
How much of your White Rabbit nature is avoidable?

* * * *
The duality of consciousness
Inevitable feeds upon itself.

* * * *
All forms play out the destinies
Of their relatively brief cycles.

* * * *
Consciousness is the dreaming
Born of neurological movement.
Only in the stillness of beingness
Can you intuit your ultimate reality.

* * * *
Knowledge may point out the way,
But must dissolve for the unmanifest to flower within.
For earth to rejoin heaven, consciousness must divine a new paradigm.

* * * *
In its sojourn toward surrender,
The mind succumbs to every distraction,
And must again and again suffer the consequences
Of its stumbling into separation.

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You can only know hell.
Heaven is prior to the knowledge
Of the passionate mind created in time.

* * * *
Just another unheard reminder.

* * * *
In the face human reality,
Why any seer bothers to speak out
Is the wonder of all wonders.

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Embrace your fear.
Watch it dissolve,
Teacher that it is.

* * * *
Those who strive with such effort to become god
Fall from the grace of inner godness
Of their own free will.

* * * *
You cannot create, preserve or destroy
What was never real to begin with.


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