Chapter 117 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CXVII

So many things said one way and meant another.
So many things meant this way and said another.

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Congratulations.  Whoo-hoo.  Yippee-ki-yay.

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Discern that you really are beyond limitation,
Beyond the sandbox fray in which you play.

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Indifference is a sage thing.

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So this is what happens when...

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Be whatever totem you perceive courageous.

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Find your aptitude, your talent, your genius.

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Trying to be concrete, but god it hurts.

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If you’re not into talking about some other,
Of what interest are you?

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How do you realize what you already are?
The struggle to attain one’s perfection
Is the eternal dilemma, the paradox of time.

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The things we consider normal.

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Just words to me.

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Death for all.

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Why would I need your puny little vision of god?

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Despite the hold your DNA has over you, sex is overrated.

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Why should you feel bound to any collusion?

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To worlds we are so drawn,
Like moths to moon’s flame.

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Life comes and goes,
Rocks into water flow.

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The senses unplug,
Sometimes suddenly,
Sometimes very slowly.

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We rush around madly trying
To touch, taste and see everything we can
Until we grow either numb and bitter
Or Innocent and content.

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The same thing said again and again
In so many ways the same thing said....

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The difference between
Tourists and travelers is belief.
The tourist does.

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Men seek trophies their way,
Women in theirs.

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Destruction has no master.

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Kill yourself moderately.

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Even an infinity of frames of reference,
Without the grace of insight,
Will not awaken the buddha nature.

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Can’t imagine anything more dull
Than watching videotapes of my life.

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How big will we build this house of cards?

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True words seem paradoxical.

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No matter how you struggle,
You cannot explain this mystery
To someone who cannot hear.
You may as well be silent.

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Recognition is its own form of vanity.

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Once you discern that you are
All sentient beings throughout time.
Other lives and paths fade in importance.
You are the everything of which all are created.

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Do often doing something
Right in plain sight
Goes completely unseen.

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All those pictures and videos you take,
Are you really going to waste time
Watching your memories?

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The creatures who can survive
And even thrive humanity’s domination,
Are they what we would prefer to have around?

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When dealing with any opponent,
Try to find out what hasn’t
Been anticipated.

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Unlearn your life right now.
Are you awake, yet?

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The state of effortlessness is very still.

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Nothing is preserved forever.
Destruction has final say.

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The bliss is detaching
Into the swimmingness
Of an eternal state of mind.

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Has anyone else ever said it this way?
Probably, but it’s a needs research question.

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Humanity has become a plague upon this world.
We charge too high a tax upon other life forms
Who have just as much right to exist as we.

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Non-caring is a great relief.

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Love your Self and you will
Discern the heart of the matter.

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So many ways we engage the mating ritual.

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It is your quest for continuity
Which limits your presence.

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Words from a trance called life.

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We, us, me, you, I …
All that I Am
Individually and collectively one.

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Look and you will see.

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Strategy is the big view.
Tactics are in the details.

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Sometimes you don’t know
What you’re talking about.

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So many seem to have
Cameras, videos or mirrors
To remember themselves by.

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We are all bluffing with the same blank deck.

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Politics and leadership are not necessarily the same thing.
Politicians are swayed by money, polls and getting reelected.
Leaders examine the impact of their decisions hundreds,
Perhaps even thousands of years down the journey.
And not just for their own tribe, creed or nation,
But for all beings across the entire world.
There are few real leaders among us.
Who are you choosing to follow?

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Short term remedies get short term results.

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If you were going to follow advice,
You wouldn’t need it in the first place.

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The grand indifference beckons you home.

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Why should you be consistent?

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Who made up all these rules, anyway?

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Life can be much more bearable
If you take a “Who cares?” attitude.
What is the point of worrying about it?

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That there is a god is the joke of our own creation.
Who needs it but those too lazy or ignorant
To explore the reality within all?

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The dance of desire and fear
And their futile quest for continuity
Only make for a noisy, inattentive mind.

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To become the universe consciously
Is the task at hand, the ultimate purpose
If there must be one.

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All attempts to retain security
Are doomed ultimately to failure.
All are temporary pacifiers for minds
Unable to negotiate the reefs of reality.

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The existential void can be frightening
Until you embrace it with all your being.

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No matter how real
That mirage may appear,
It will never quench any thirst.

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Illusion likes to pretend its not.

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Another thief caught in his own light.

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Beauty transforms into ugliness and ugliness into beauty.
That is the way of all things whether great or small
Which rise and fall in the course of time.

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The usurpation of homo sapien consciousness
Over the natural order is bound to tumble.
Those who do not abide by the rules
Of the game must eventually be
Thrown off the game board.

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Eternity is now.
Infinity is all.
Nothing is not.

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Do you really want all this,
Or do you just think you do?

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Integrity requires discipline.

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Whatever game you may play,
It is ever upon the same field.

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Would your imaginary existence
Ever even begin to work
For anyone else?

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Why do so many imitate others?

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I am you pretending to be me
And you are me pretending the same.

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Dance or sit, walk or run, sing or stay silent,
It is all the same.

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Would having all the answers change anything?

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Perhaps the purpose of life
Is to just be whatever you are,
And to do whatever you do.

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Most people will do
Whatever they need to do
To get whatever it is they want.
This would probably not be a problem
If there were not so many wanting so much.

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You are creator and destroyer of the universe,
Yet must ever heed the limitations of mortal capacity.
It is the ultimate irony of any finite existence.

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The laws of physics are not breakable.

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Surrender and the silence is immeasurable,
Even amid the greatest storms of conscious design.

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The assertion that you have
Free will is highly questionable.
In the spectrum of unlimited choice,
Your options are really very few.

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We all rise to our highest level of delusion.

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Of all the things I can offer this dream,
These reflections, as silly as they may seem,
Propose the most enduring possibility.
To all yet to come, I wish the best.

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The Self you truly are needs no explanation.

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What is this human craving for glory
Which molds such a harsh future?

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Don’t look a gift life in the mouth.

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So pointless the point.

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How quickly we become slaves
To our own inventions.

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The clocks keep changing, but do you?

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Ten thousand reflections,
And still it is untouched.

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Did time even occur
Before you were born?
Will it go on after you die?
When does it exist even now?
The origin of all dreaming is you.
Without you as witness, it never was.
Within you are all beginnings and all endings,
The sensory theater of consciousness
To which all illusion attaches.

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You are a nuclear reaction playing out
The creation and destruction of dreamtime.

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You are defined by your limitations.

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By the time anyone reads this,
The scribe will be just another image
Lost in history’s foggy duration.
Why I did not just shut up
Is as curious to me
As it is to you.

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If you have to ask what the point is,
You aren’t getting it.

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Gold is sand, sand is gold,
And it’s all the same dust
To the eternal essence.

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How can any teaching ripen fully
If the teacher is killed while the fruit is green?
Throw that Jesus image out of your mind.
His real point was missed entirely.
It was not about martyrdom.

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Some desire to control the whole world,
But having control of yourself is enough.

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Give it a rest,
Get over it,
Let it go,
Deal with it,
Don’t sweat it,
Don’t let it get you down.
Whatever it is.


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