C
If you
cannot discern a moderate perspective,
If you
cannot keep your many passions in check,
Your
cravings, your urges, your appetites, your lusts,
Extremes
of every sort, can easily destroy you.
* * * *
All you
want is illusion.
* * * *
Dreams
are the mark of a mind
Entangled
in the theater
Of its
own creation.
* * * *
It is
acceptable not to pretend to know what you cannot.
Agnosticism
is perspective of anyone who is authentic.
* * * *
The
only real solution to your view of this universe is death.
* * * *
Understanding
how things work
Doesn’t
mean you must
Participate
that way.
* * * *
How
insidious identification.
* * * *
So many
things yet to pretend.
* * * *
Let us
try once again
To make
it perfectly clear.
* * * *
Treat
your body with a reasonable amount of care.
It is a
very vulnerable meat machine, a temporary vehicle
Through
which space-time may appear as either heaven or hell.
* * * *
Be
moderate in the seven deadly pleasures:
Gluttony,
greed, sloth, envy, wrath, lust and pride.
* * * *
The
most innocuous spot is the best place to hide.
* * * *
Students
of irony mark their own way.
* * * *
Ah, the
wonder of an orderly society.
* * * *
Compassion
comes
When
you know others
As you
do your Self.
* * * *
Who
begrudges anyone great or small
A
breath of air, a bowl of food, or a cup of water,
Or a
secure, clean dwelling to live and sleep?
Words
don’t count for much without these.
* * * *
Those
relatively few across time, across space,
Who
have pondered things deeply
Have a
quiet kinship.
* * * *
Respect
does not require any pretense.
* * * *
One of
those days when you may as well
Keep
pen dangling over paper.
* * * *
You are
not obligated to be interested in anything,
Nor are
you denied the right to be interested in everything.
* * * *
What
happens when you allow
The
other entry into your mind?
* * * *
Your
beliefs hinder you seeing it directly.
* * * *
To
associate these thoughts
With
any particular era of history
Might
well miss its pointless nature.
* * * *
What
death is ever not timely?
* * * *
He
wondered how smoothly the panties
Would
slide down her silky thighs.
* * * *
Sometimes
busy-busy, sometimes not.
Sometimes
times pass so quickly,
Others
almost entirely stopped.
Whoever
knows the known
Can
only briefly fathom
That
which will ever
Be
unknown.
* * * *
Rarely
on time, the clock hands
Spin
their endless course
Of
round and round.
* * * *
Something
new to think about.
* * * *
Who has
room for those without boundaries?
* * * *
Is not
life reward enough?
* * * *
A
compendium,
A
chronicle of reflections
A
collection of aphoristic musings,
Of the
day-to-day streaming of consciousness.
* * * *
You
will be something’s feast someday.
* * * *
How
easily the corruption of greed seizes a soul.
* * * *
The
costume box of your mind.
* * * *
Why do
you gauge yourself by the popular line?
* * * *
It’s as
empty as it is full.
* * * *
We are
all so susceptible to our ignorance.
* * * *
Flowers
seek admiration.
* * * *
Bound
to form, you ride
The ebb
and flow of your passion.
* * * *
But for
the inattention of consciousness,
You are
always absolutely present
In the eternal here-now.
* * * *
What a
mystery any fate is.
* * * *
What
are you looking for in any relationship?
* * * *
Give
and take without thoughts of obligation.
* * * *
Sifting
through the ashes, Buddha awakens.
* * * *
Pretty
hard not to detest
Some
parts of your life.
* * * *
What
will kill you?
How
will you die?
* * * *
Alas,
alas, the body does not respond
To your
commands as it once did.
* * * *
Concepts
are just sounds
Unless
you know what they mean.
* * * *
Your
life is how you use your energy.
* * * *
How far
can pathetic go?
* * * *
Something’s
rising somewhere.
* * * *
Imagination
makes great leaps of faith.
* * * *
First
there was the world,
And
then there was naught.
* * * *
As
meaningless as it is,
We
still give it what we can.
* * * *
You’ve
got one chance at every moment.
* * * *
Thoughts
are flickering energy.
To what
can one be attached
But the
vanity that this thunderstorm,
This
barrage of the senses, is somehow real.
* * * *
In the
company of like minds, there is no other.
* * * *
Do not
trust any business
To
weigh your best interests
Over
its demanding bottom line.
They
all vie for your gullibility.
* * * *
Bypass
the bullshit.
* * * *
This
ground is not for sale.
* * * *
In
death you are reborn.
* * * *
The
mirage of greener grass
Entices
all but the most content.
Move
any direction, it is all the same.
* * * *
Contentment
is mastery.
* * * *
The
existential cruelty of it all.
* * * *
A
dancing wit plays to the company of time.
* * * *
The way
is the creator or all function,
Yet
remains untouched by form.
* * * *
We do
love our memorials to vanity.
* * * *
The sun
feels very warm
When
the gray clouds are not
Making
everything seem very cool.
Another
good day to die.
* * * *
Sensuality
beckons us all taste the tasteless nature.
* * * *
An
existence that never was,
Mesmerized
by an ethereal imagination
Which
could only pretend to be.
* * * *
After
awhile experience become like rain filling a bucket.
Patter,
patter, patter, one after another, nothing but process.
* * * *
Does it
often seem afterwards as if nothing really happened?
* * * *
Who
know their world unto death?
* * * *
Innocence
is the time of causes.
* * * *
Time is
what you make of it.
* * * *
No
devil can tempt you without your collusion.
* * * *
Money
is not one of the higher indicators of success.
* * * *
Just
putting it all in the same perspective as gnat dung.
* * * *
Religions
pretend god and the devil
Are
playing some huge chess game for our souls.
How
gullible and naive the masses.
* * * *
You
want so badly for it to be more, always more.
Your
vanity makes what is so simple so complex.
* * * *
One of
the major benefits of worldly wealth
Is that
you get to move a lot of things around.
* * * *
What to
do after you’ve realized buddhahood
May be
the more pertinent question.
* * * *
We all
learn so many different things.
* * * *
Ho hum.
* * * *
Pooh on
all this babble.
Naps
and honey are meaning enough.
* * * *
Human
vanity seeks divine sanction
For all
its arbitrary self-absorptions.
* * * *
Is it
all you can be, or all you are?
* * * *
Caveat
to all who wander into the sun:
Nothing
will ever be the same.
* * * *
Can you
feel the inside of your skull?
Where
does infinity begin?
* * * *
Some
embrace technology
And a
some reject or ignore it.
But it
is with us, like it or not.
There
is no going back.
* * * *
So,
what are your real intentions.
* * * *
To
discern what it is,
You
must perceive so much
That it
is not, never was, will never be.
* * * *
What is
true? What is false?
And is
there any difference?
* * * *
Surprise
attacks are dealt best surprise defenses.
* * * *
Limitations
have a way of kicking in
When
you reach your capacity.
* * * *
No
matter how known you seem,
You
really can really never be.
Others
can truly only discern
Illusory
presence, not the infinity.
* * * *
You’ve
learned a lot about Maya,
But
what have you really learned?
* * * *
Comparison
will not take you there.
* * * *
There
where?
* * * *
Just
try throwing or giving things away.
Chances
are you won’t miss most of them.
* * * *
One was
killed at the end of a bayonet when he was three.
Another
by a gang of five youths while begging for food,
And the
third was not recognized by the border guard,
And
allowed to pass without writing anything down.
* * * *
Whether
you pray or not,
Your
fleshy vanity will succumb
To the
reality of mortal whim.
God doe
not play favorites
Despite
all your rosy delusions.
* * * *
How
easy to miss the irony and paradox of any given moment.
* * * *
Boring
is as boring does.
* * * *
Yes,
they are not really that much bigger
Than
toothpicks, but they are grand.
* * * *
Your
really don’t know where the hell you are.
* * * *
In all
things see your Self.
* * * *
It is
all the whimsical nature of stardust.
* * * *
How
many fellow creatures
We
subjugate for pleasure or harvest,
Or
destroy if they do not serve us
In way,
shape or manner.
* * * *
If you
get all legalistic about this,
You’ll
probably miss the point.
* * * *
If life
was always comfortable,
You
might never let go.
* * * *
It is
only now which counts.
* * * *
Another
soul marred by personality.
* * * *
Despite
all voices to the contrary.
You are
very much alone,
A
mystery
Unto
your Self.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved