CXIII
This is
what you have done with your life.
* * * *
How
else would godness know itself,
But
through you?
* * * *
Suffer
no delusions.
* * * *
The
strains of life need not mark you.
* * * *
Only in
consciousness
Can
duality pretend to exist.
* * * *
The
pressures to become something are fierce.
What do
they inspire but added misery
To an
already difficult situation.
* * * *
You
just got it back.
* * * *
Remember,
Despite
what you read here or anywhere else,
That it
doesn’t really matter.
* * * *
How can
a doctor
Help
heal a patient
Determined
to be ill?
Patient,
heal thy Self.
* * * *
Positive
thinking
Tends
to accept and embrace
A great
deal of delusion.
* * * *
Who are
you imitating now?
* * * *
No
name, no concept attaches
But
through the glue of your mind.
* * * *
We are
a species deathly afraid of not being.
* * * *
Others
can hold your hand,
But you
must take the pain alone.
* * * *
This
moment, too, will fall
Through
the sieve of memory.
* * * *
You
really only need to please yourself.
* * * *
At some
point, why should you allow
Anyone
to define or restrict you?
* * * *
Whoever
created time was the first historian.
* * * *
What do
you want to do with your life,
Your
dreamtime, your sojourn, your path
Through
this misty three-dimensional mystery?
* * * *
Explode
into the ocean of your being,
The
wind of your eternal nature,
The
fire of your true Soul.
* * * *
The
book that never was.
* * * *
Pass
what you will to your children.
They
will pay their own price for the die we have cast.
Big
fucking crap game, don’t you think?
* * * *
As an
infant the senses had no meaning.
Only in
time’s passing did an order gradually arise
As the
environmental pattern was sponged into personality
By
choiceless inclinations of your genetic predisposition.
Do you
really believe your personal view is any more
Than an
ancillary outcome of random circumstance
And the
collective delusions of consciousness?
* * * *
When it
becomes obvious this world of dreams
Must eventually,
as all change must, be forsaken.
How
challenging it is to, in one way or another,
Participate
in whatever way fate dictates.
* * * *
What is
consciousness but the awareness
That
every act creates a ripple which impacts others.
It is
not obligation, but consideration which creates angels.
* * * *
The
concept is not the thing,
But
what is the thing without the concept?
* * * *
We all
seems irreversibly drawn
To one
passing inclination or another.
The
choices involved are quite choiceless.
Were
you to truly attempt changing the pattern,
It
would probably prove all but impossible.
Most
changes are relatively superficial
And
really only amount to resistance.
* * * *
Don’t
battle your Self.
* * * *
Why
these aphorisms, each so unique,
Keep bubbling
forth unsought is a mystery.
What
impact, if any, they might have is for a time
These
eyes will only view through those yet to come.
* * * *
The
wings of angels tickle your soul
To
awaken to eternal life.
* * * *
It is
silence that is golden.
* * * *
Cast
yourself adrift in the abyss of your mind.
* * * *
Root
out that which causes your pain.
* * * *
The
analogies may change,
But
truth is ever the same.
* * * *
The
eternally damned
Have
nothing to fear
But
their own imagination.
* * * *
We exist
in collusive fantasy.
An
acting of godness impervious
To our
apparent mortality
Drifting
in a time
Which
has never existed.
* * * *
Why
fear any god?
It is
your own creation.
* * * *
How
long will one hand support another?
* * * *
A still
mind travels the moment.
* * * *
Will
you embrace life,
Or that
which was never born?
Or,
perhaps, if you can walk the paradox,
You
will manage an affair with both.
* * * *
No one
leads until there are those willing to follow.
* * * *
So many
have so much, yet only want more.
What
did it finally take for greedy Midas
To wish
away his golden touch?
* * * *
Just
because everyone else is doing something
Is not
a good reason.
* * * *
Imagine
all that human pride has wrought.
* * * *
Through
you all things come to pass.
* * * *
If you
cannot be your own best friend
And
lover, who else will want to be?
* * * *
Seek
the diamond at the core of your beingness,
The
true worth of the dream’s golden nature.
* * * *
If you
think yourself invisible, you are.
* * * *
So many
Christians have missed completely
What
the man they profess to emulate
Was
truly trying to point out.
* * * *
Have
you always felt life are
Something
of an alien here?
* * * *
Waves
wash away all writings
Without
thought or concern.
Each
breath the same.
* * * *
How
does anyone know anything
But
through their own choosing?
* * * *
What do
you hope for,
But
that your delusions are real?
* * * *
How
lonely one can feel
In the
midst of any given crowd.
Discerning
the aloneness at the source
Is both
difficult to remember and easy to forget.
* * * *
What
makes you think human babble
Has any
more significance than
That of
any other creature?
* * * *
Western
industrial, technological, scientific thinking
Has
infected the rest of the world to such a degree
That
the result can only be disaster and mayhem.
* * * *
All you
really need to be told
At any
given point of your time
Is that
you are That I Am.
The
rest is academic.
* * * *
All
your attachments boil down
To the
imaginary concoctions
Of a
few trillion brain cells.
* * * *
It is
all the naming which creates
The
you, you happen believe real.
* * * *
Whatever
you think
Of
anyone or anything
Is only
an imaginary idea.
It can
never be what is.
* * * *
Personal
identity is the delusion.
* * * *
What do
you finally learn from pain
But
that you probably don’t need
To do
whatever caused it again.
* * * *
How
many faces
Have
you not had?
You are
the everything,
Nothing
less, nothing more.
So
simple, so simple.
* * * *
All
pride eventually falls
For it
can only be sustained
By the
vain delusions of the body.
* * * *
Unless
there was some other life
You
would rather have lived, why
Would
you do this to yourself again?
* * * *
How
incredible life is.
How
amazing that we endlessly
Seem to
insist on creating more sorrow
Than
existence already requires.
* * * *
When
creation and destruction
Are
each moment’s passing,
How can
you ever assume
You
were ever truly born?
* * * *
No
person, place, thing or idea is godless.
It is
impossible in the oneness of all.
* * * *
Haven’t
you always been watching?
* * * *
A
successful life is finding contentment in your own.
* * * *
Relax,
you’ll be silent soon enough.
* * * *
Do our
personalities carve our features,
Or the
features shape the personality?
* * * *
How
beautiful, how horrifying,
So many
things are in this
Mystery
world of dreams.
* * * *
Why do
you continue to bind
Yourself
in this field of dreams?
What
entices you again and again
Into
the habit you call thinking?
* * * *
Patience
is a device worth cultivating.
* * * *
Your
dream has always been.
What
other dream could possibly be?
* * * *
Just
think, none of this is really happening.
It is
you own convictions which burden you.
* * * *
The
dross is burned by clarity.
* * * *
A dream
is a dream
No
matter the dream.
* * * *
How is
this happening?
A
fool’s question if ever there was one.
* * * *
Am I
the devil, or are you?
Perhaps
we all are until
We
return to the grace of godness.
* * * *
The
only conclusion, no matter
When or
where your origin,
Is we
are all That I Am.
* * * *
This
world will obviously never be perfect,
But
must we flaw it so with our avarice?
* * * *
Duality
requires the stream of consciousness.
When
thoughts are stilled, all separations,
All
polarities, all fictions of imagination
Cease
to play their time-bound realities.
The
drama humanity is playing, simply put,
Is the
product of this straight-forward correlation,
A
function of the mind-body gone astray in time’s play.
* * * *
Godness
blows up the balloon, and pop!
There form
goes, and where are you
But
where you were all along.
* * * *
Is it a
question that is the statement,
Or a
statement which is a question?
* * * *
So-called
evil is merely self-absorption
Ignorance,
denial, greed, eternal death.
* * * *
Go
forth and explore this world you have created
Until
you see what there really is to be seen.
* * * *
What
else but vanity
Would
believe vanity
Has any
continuity?
* * * *
Activists
are full of self-satisfied righteousness,
Irrespective
of the futility of all result
In the
ebb and tide of the changing nature.
* * * *
Time is
filled by one thing or another.
* * * *
So many
concoctions stewing in the same brew.
* * * *
By
their nature, dreams are ever ethereal,
Like
clouds, rivers and waves
Never
be fooled by even those appearing solid.
* * * *
Idealists
must eventually absolve themselves
Of
responsibility for that which they cannot change.
* * * *
Different
mountain,
Same
clayness.
* * * *
Dancing
with illusion.
* * * *
Is
superstition an inherent feature
Locked
into the genetic structure?
* * * *
What do
you really have
But a
mind full of memories?
* * * *
If you
hadn’t been conditioned
To
believe in heavens and hells,
Would
you concoct them yourself?
* * * *
The
depths cannot be plumbed.
They
are infinitely small, infinitely large,
Beyond
all mortal comprehension or conclusion.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved