Chapter 115 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CXV

If you are comprehending these many thoughts
You are close to being done with tailoring
Your mind to the will of any collusion.

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You are the revolution of consciousness.

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Can there be any reflection without
The movement of consciousness?

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Anytime a mythology is adopted,
It is fashioned individually within
Each dreamy frame of reference.

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It doesn’t have to make sense.

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We are all accountable in our own unfolding way.
The mix of desire and fear casts a tint across every life.
Hell is self-absorption and heaven Self-absorption.

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A complete breath brings more peace
Than any malleable thought ever can.

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You spend your life chasing one rainbow after another,
Performing, achieving, maintaining, forfeiting
Dream after unfulfillable dream.

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You are not your name, nor are you
Anything any other word implies.

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Contentment is when dissatisfaction is not.

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We are all so busy in one mischief or another,
The synergy of which only time’s passing will tell.

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If the history of this universe
Is in any way an accurate indication,
The human experiment in free will
Appears doomed to extinction.

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Stretch your mind to its indivisible infinity.

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Go to sleep, dream, wake up.
Dream, dream, dream and dream again
Each and every illusion possible.

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Your world will accept whatever weight you give it.

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How can you know what to surrender to?
It is, you are that which is unknown.
Surrender to the vast silence.
Offer it everything.

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It is whatever you think it is,
So why give it any thought?

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Crap is crap no matter how you comb it
With all those vain therapies.
Dump the load.
Let the ocean fill you.

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The senses do not touch the awareness.
But for the web of your many attachments,
They are like distant echoes in the vastness.

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What need anymore for sugar-coated stories?

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What do you continually seek to be
But that which you are not.

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God is the opiate of consciousness.

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Without thought, where would you be?

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So many putting so much struggle
Into becoming what they already are,
Have always been, and will forever be.

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At this writing there are too many human beings
For peaceful reconciliation of all the polarizations.

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It is a dream you can only pretend to touch.

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We are all that
Of which all endings begin
And all beginnings end.

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The body is a temporal vehicle
Which will enable you to go home
If you have eyes that see
And ears that hear.

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You never know what skills
Or frame of reference
Will be useful to you future.

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There is effort and pain
Only when you are resistant
To the unfolding process.

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Humanity can at best only postpone the inevitable.

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Those who worship power, fame, fortune
And the swirls of passion are not
The leaders we need.

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Any society is the mix of collusive enterprises
Which enable the survival of its membership.

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Someone telling you to believe in Jesus Christ
Is about equal to your parents telling
You to believe in Santa Claus.
Both are the make-believe of ignorance
Pleading for rewards and avoiding punishments.
Naughty or nice has nothing to do with spiritual endeavor.

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Contemplate all the thoughts
That have ever crossed your mind.
Then visualize all that have manifested
In every conceivable nexus of consciousness
Throughout eternity’s infinite potential.
In what possible way are you
Not connected?

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You are the face of the faceless,
The trace of the traceless.

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It goes beyond physics.

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Are not real communism and real democracy very much the same?
It is the quality of mind that creates equality and freedom.
Individual welfare is tied to individual sovereignty
And no society ever runs smoothly
Without mutual respect
For the rights
Of all.

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Become that which is prior
To everything you can imagine.

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The challenge of life is to have no regrets.
And those things you do regret,
Do no more.
It’s as simple as that.

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Awaken to the womb of your conscious beingness.

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Awakening is akin to a feast
To which all are invited
But few can find.

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The sands of time burn away
And there is nothing you can do
But become one with its eternal truth.

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Oblivion is as simple as a still mind.

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In the quest for god, truth, reality,
Whatever you may choose to label it,
You will settle for what quenches the thirst.
How many stop at the first mirage they encounter?

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Isn’t it interesting how vain
We eventually become about bodies
We really seem to have so little say in choosing?

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So many assumptions, so little proof.
Superstition and repetition are so much easier
Than the unrelenting discernment of critical thinking.
Ignorance is really the foregone result of unquestioning sloth.

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The one mind is unfragmented awareness
From which all creation originates.

* * * *
Image is not all.

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You look for approval from another
When your own is all you need.

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Never assume anyone
Has really seen or heard you.

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Bear with me while I wander
Through consciousness
As I perceive it.

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It is right here now
As it has ever been
And will ever be.

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Whatever you may think important to become
Will ever be an illusion of your own vain creation.

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One lifeform may live only a few minutes,
Another hundreds or even thousands of years.
What difference, really?

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What are we but little balloons
Filled with godness wandering about
In every form pretending every sort of dream.

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To become a mystic, a master craftsman of godness
Requires an intuitive insight into the unborn nature,
The origin from which the seeds of all diversity bloom.

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In one sense there are many things you will never do,
And in another there is nothing possible without you.

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You raise the dead every time
You fathom yourself real.

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Cry not for me.
Cry for the dead who call it living.

* * * *
These words are nebulous
To those of limited insight
And specific to those who see
The universe within their own eye.

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The question is not
How long you will live,
But how well.

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From womb to crib to bedroom
To neighborhood to city to county
To state to country to world to universe,
And given the insight to see it all,
Back to the womb of origins
From which you came.

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How many try to shape you into their limitations?

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Has common sense ever been common?

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Happiness or unhappiness,
What does dust care for either?

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Why do so many human beings
Crave applause and approval?

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Is replacing Eden with a world covered in concepts
What the concept of god had in mind that first week?

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We are all raised from the dead.

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Nothing fills it.

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There’s not much you can do but caution someone
Bound and determined to suffer the wrath of passion.

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There’s no hook to be let off of.

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How real it all seemed at the time.

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What are you surviving for?
What drives you to continue?
What purpose do you imagine?
What meaning have you fabricated?
What do you want from this life or any other?

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A blade or bullet may enter the body,
But the unmanifest they cannot kill.

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You cannot really blame the world
For being what you believe it to be.

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Beyond the scope of the senses
And the mind into which they feed,
What limitations can ever truly exist?

* * * *
It is all something of a game, and as with all games,
Each of us has our own interpretation of the rules.

* * * *
How vain we are
About bodies over which
We have such transitory custody.

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Destruction is the inevitable conclusion to all creation.

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All beginnings and endings
Are only the concoctions
Of time-bound delusion.

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If you must revere something,
Venerate that which is unseen
Within all things great and small.

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Humanity’s capacity for manipulation of the manifest
Is countered by its inability to match it with wisdom.

* * * *
Take two bullets and call the mortician in the morning.

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When all you rely on is form and image,
The foundation and structure rot away.

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In a relative sense, is anyone really
Any stranger than anyone else?

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What is humanity’s collective agenda,
Consciously or not?

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Heed the call of your nature
If you seek to learn the lesson
Your manifest time will offer.

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What a bunch of bullshit.

* * * *
The sum of all knowledge is not even a thimble
Of this mystery’s vast unknowable nature.

* * * *
Sophistry will get you nowhere.

* * * *
It is not possible to truly know your Self.
You can only conceive the reflections
Your senses weave into thought.

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In eternal life there is a completion
Untouched by personal craving.

* * * *
Be sure to take your own advice.

* * * *
There ain’t no glory but what your own mind concocts.

* * * *
In countless ways you witness your eternal beingness.

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Even the flesh of your greatest desire
Will never satisfy your deepest hunger.

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Try being grateful for what you do have
Rather than pursuing what you can’t.

* * * *
We each create our own hellish maze,
Yet few ever discern heaven’s fabric
From which all creation is woven.

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It is the images of your own desire you crave.

* * * *
It is only ego that falsely delineates one form superior to another.


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