CXXIII
What
more could anyone really want?
* * * *
Language
conspires in so many ways
To
inform ignorance of its puzzling origin.
* * * *
Why
write all this?
Because
it is enjoyable,
And
seems to be an inclination.
* * * *
You
came here to have as good a time as possible,
But did
you read the small print that said,
“Through
it all you will suffer.”
* * * *
What is
required of you,
But
what you yourself require?
* * * *
You can
only eat one meal at a time.
How
much of a pig will you be?
* * * *
What
useless creatures we philosophers are.
* * * *
Some
waves pass through everything,
Including
you.
* * * *
Contentment
is not wanting it any other way.
* * * *
A life
well-lived is one remembered.
* * * *
Telescopes
and microscopes see further and further,
And
scientists measure in every way possible,
But
still they have not found the answer.
* * * *
The
puzzle remains.
* * * *
Free
your Self.
* * * *
Sidestep
the vanity.
* * * *
You and
your father are one.
You and
you mother are one.
You and
your pet gerbil are one.
* * * *
Get it?
* * * *
All
these thoughts are spontaneously created.
It’s a
random, inspirational process.
Nothing
is planned.
* * * *
All
that out there is a ploy
To keep
from looking inward.
* * * *
How
curious our investment in time;
All the
imagined births, dates, holidays
Traditions,
wars and other delusions.
As if
any remembrance has any
Real
association with another
Except
for its having passed
In the
same now as all do.
* * * *
The
attachment is in your head,
Not
your hands.
* * * *
How do
I know?
The
same way anyone
Knows
anything.
* * * *
Passion
without discipline
It a
path of self-destruction.
* * * *
If you
preoccupy yourself overly much
With
either perceived past or projected future,
You
will not adequately meet what is happening now
With
the attentive spontaneity survival requires.
* * * *
It is
not as much survival of the fittest
As it
is survival of the most adaptable.
A bit
of good luck always helps, as well.
* * * *
Once
any pattern is grasped to some degree,
The
black box within which it resided disappears.
Everything
born of the human mind is based
Upon an
arbitrary conceptual foundation.
* * * *
You
learn by paying attention,
Just
like everyone else.
* * * *
Selecting
which details to prioritize
Seems
to be the gist of your existence.
* * * *
You
lose out on the transient depth of reality
If you
think in terms of investment
Rather
than process.
* * * *
When
has it never been now?
* * * *
Blaming
others only
Deepens
the confusion
And
widens the polarizations.
* * * *
What to
do when all the alternatives seem like bullshit?
* * * *
Do you
see your Self in everything?
* * * *
The
mind can be like a hammer banging away.
Most
humans involve themselves only with results.
Few
investigate the hammer and its fundamental nature.
Buddhahood
is disciplined, choiceless attentiveness.
* * * *
We
cannot just suddenly turn around billions of years of evolution
With
idealistic notions born of a relatively recent civilized existence.
* * * *
Is
silence ignorance? Is it wisdom?
Is it
both between or beyond
All
parameters of limited distinction?
* * * *
You are
the only way reality
Can
experience material illusion.
And
though many are supposedly called,
Few are
chosen at any given time to see beyond.
Those
who do journey a tumultuous reverie,
An epic
banquet in the mortal dream
Between
heaven and earth.
* * * *
No
concept does more than brace you
In the
windswept delusion born of time.
* * * *
When
you figure out
A way
to save anything forever,
Be sure
to let us know.
* * * *
What
was never born never dies.
* * * *
Your
existence is founded
On the
assumption that you do.
* * * *
This is
your life to spend as you choose.
Will
you finish it feeling complete and content,
Or will
your conclusion be bitter regret and sorrow?
Will
you have added or diminished, created or destroyed?
Will
you have grasped the singularity, or be caught up
In the
divisiveness of ignorance and delusion?
This is
your life to spend as you choose.
* * * *
There
is an immeasurable distance within all
Which
cannot be crossed by any other.
* * * *
You do
not have to experience it
To know
it is all happening.
The
witness is all one.
* * * *
An
accident waiting to happen.
* * * *
Things
often become clearer in retrospect.
* * * *
You can
only show someone what it is to fish.
They
must teach themselves.
* * * *
Only
imagination suffers.
* * * *
How
well do you really remember any pain or joy,
Or any
other passion, thought or circumstance?
* * * *
Enlightenment
is the pinnacle of immortal delusion.
* * * *
It is
much easier to feel good about life
When
the body is feeling healthy and strong.
* * * *
Heroes
die as all others do.
It is
only the mythology of glory
Which
carries them on in time.
* * * *
Where
is there to go,
What is
there to do,
Really?
* * * *
Righting
a wrong takes a little effort
If
there is a fair and equal intent by all.
* * * *
Sage
advice is rarely heard clearly.
* * * *
Any
game is more enjoyable
If you
are not too attached
To the
win or loss of it.
* * * *
Whatever
the terms and conditions,
It is
always a good day to die.
* * * *
What
sage needs reality
Or any
god spawned of it?
* * * *
Death
is closer than your shadow.
* * * *
The
best criticism enhances.
* * * *
It is
whichever one it happens to be.
* * * *
Tear
down, toss aside, be done with temples,
Statues,
symbols, prayers, scriptures and traditions.
Empty
your mind and soul to receive the grace of godness
Whoever,
whatever, whenever, wherever, however
you may be.
* * * *
Don’t
you sometimes tire of the ego-pride blindness
Of your
attachments to your body, the sensory play,
And all
the things which surround this fabrication?
* * * *
Where
death was never born,
What
shadow can enter?
* * * *
Grow up
into your true childhood.
* * * *
Debate
these thoughts however you will,
Or let
them seep into the seed of your origin
That
you might blossom into its manifest potential.
Look
around, perceive the garden, and find your role
As
guardian angel rather than pride-filled destroyer.
* * * *
Death
is more like evaporation than something final.
* * * *
Scientists
and baseball aficionados
Share a
passion for useless data.
* * * *
What
times they were, they were, they were,
Those
times before money was the measure.
* * * *
Are you
interested in understanding,
Or only
condemning?
* * * *
Any
place can seem large
Until
you see it on a map
* * * *
All
chatter is relative.
The
play of consciousness
Is
without absolutes.
* * * *
The
only universe you need fit into is your own.
* * * *
Grieve
for all suffering, not just your own.
All
forms dissolve, all reflections end.
Embrace
them or detest them,
Conceive
every passion imaginable.
All
melt equally into eternity’s infinite unity.
* * * *
Don’t
resist dying.
* * * *
Does a
child doubt itself?
* * * *
We have
concocted so many ways
Of
delving into the unknown.
* * * *
There
is no prescribed way.
* * * *
Love is
the oblivion of the personal nature.
It is
the relinquishment of all becoming.
It is
the surrender to total beingness.
* * * *
Paradise
and purgatory
Are not
mutually exclusive.
One is
not without the other.
How
would we know anything
Without
its opposite nature?
* * * *
We are
all mutations of the original seed.
* * * *
You may
annihilate the vanity,
But you
can never slay
The me
that I am.
* * * *
Are you
weary enough to come home?
* * * *
It
sounded so good till you found it.
* * * *
Remember
and forget
Again
and again.
* * * *
What is
too true to the relativity of illusion?
* * * *
You
participate because you want and fear not having.
* * * *
How
many are sucked down by the whirlpool
Of
their own Frankensteinian creation?
* * * *
Don’t
muck it up with another
Absurd
attempt to organize religion.
Just
get together with friends who can enjoy
Discussing
rationally whatever subjects come up.
Relax
on the hierarchical gods of delusion.
Allow
yourself to dissolve in the river
Of the
singularity of beingness.
* * * *
The
only universe is the one in your imagination.
* * * *
How
many times you shit and piss your purity.
* * * *
It is
the fear of fearlessness,
The
preference of smoke over flame
Which
keeps you from discovering truth.
Rather
than be consumed by the blaze,
Rather
that dying to the pride of time,
You
prefer the smoke of delusion
And
inevitably miss knowing
The freedom
of eternal life.
* * * *
Does
being born again
Really
have anything to do
With
the pride of becoming?
Is it
not rather the end of time,
The
surrender to true nature,
To the
majesty of godness,
To the
gold of all in one,
And the
joy of one in all.
* * * *
Give
your children room to enjoy the bliss of innocence.
Perhaps
they will recall the laughter clearly enough
To
rediscover it that day adulthood wears thin.
* * * *
All
bounds are of your own device.
* * * *
It will
matter less what I meant
Than
how you take it.
* * * *
Curious
that what seems obvious
Isn’t always obvious to
everyone.
* * * *
Beware
the mountains
And
pitfalls of consciousness.
Travel
the course between extremes.
* * * *
The lonlies
come about when you feel rejected, forgotten, ignored.
When
you have not said what another wants to hear,
When
you feel something “out there”
Is
necessary
For you
to be happy.
* * * *
For you
to reach this manifest point in time,
The
journey, neither good nor bad, is what it is.
* * * *
Take not
one step of regret for what it has taken.
Put
time behind you in your downstream adventure.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved