CXLII
This
illusionary world of agony and ecstasy will uncover many ways
To
convince you into believing you exist as a separate entity.
Only
your own discerning conviction and recollection
Will
sustain you in the churning tides of doubt.
*
* * *
It
might not be the problem it is,
If
there were a lot fewer human beings.
Anyone
who has ever grown even a small garden
Must
quickly learn that pruning and thinning are a necessity
For
any harvest to reach its full potential.
*
* * *
Dogmatists
are much like dogs
Pissing
on everything they can
To
mark their self-righteous turf.
*
* * *
Become
master of your innermost vision.
*
* * *
All
judgment is founded upon pride.
*
* * *
Once
you fully realize you are that which is godness,
That
your individual identity is entirely fabricated,
That
suffering no longer of any importance,
Your
are free, suffering loses all holds,
And
the serenity of grace fills your being.
*
* * *
Upon
fools effort is wasted.
*
* * *
Any
asshole is king on a porcelain throne.
* *
* *
The
dreamtime will find many ways to deceive you
Into
believing you exist in some permanent fashion.
Only
your own discerning conviction and recollection
Will
sustain you in those many moments of doubt.
*
* * *
Consciousness
paints itself in every glory.
*
* * *
The
question is not who you are,
But
who you imagine your Self to be.
*
* * *
Coincidence
takes many trails.
*
* * *
No
matter how old he gets, how infirm he becomes,
Any
given man will always have a hard-on in his head.
*
* * *
The
mind seems to love creating insoluble problems.
*
* * *
In
that which is godness, include yourself.
*
* * *
You
are a little bit of everything,
And
a little bit of nothing.
*
* * *
Assume
it now.
*
* * *
There’s
that irony thing again.
*
* * *
An
existential free-for-all.
*
* * *
Going
home to your Self.
*
* * *
The
promise that never came.
*
* * *
The
play is vanity.
*
* * *
A unique sense of turf.
*
* * *
Wonder
what our ancestors would think.
*
* * *
Some real specimens,
Real
samples of a pathetic nature.
*
* * *
We’re all angels and demons in someone’s dream.
*
* * *
You
would die for that?
*
* * *
It’s
show time.
*
* * *
A
cellular in every palm.
*
* * *
Another obscure, pathetic drama.
*
* * *
Aging
is a journey into invisibility.
*
* * *
It’s a question of numbers.
*
* * *
Another
mask of passion.
*
* * *
It’s
something for which few have the appetite.
*
* * *
Not
much escapes you.
*
* * *
A rather curious hobby, don’t you think?
*
* * *
You
are godness
And
the simplest way
To
exercise that knowing
Is
to breathe serenely.
*
* * *
The
folly of seeking
Is
that there is nothing to find.
*
* * *
Groups
meet regularly
To
support their delusion.
*
* * *
Is
it courage,
Or
just lack of concern?
*
* * *
Dread
the future
Only
if it is the unrealized past.
*
* * *
The unending maintenance
Of
fabricated identity
Is
apparent in the countless
Rationalizations,
justifications, assertions,
And
other self-absorbed forays.
*
* * *
The
human drama can only continue
As
long as the genetic edifice
Has
an environment
In
which it can
Even
barely abide.
*
* * *
What
nonsense we will put up with
Simply
to gratify their sexual hunger.
*
* * *
Who
is it who continues but the you
That
you imagine yourself to be.
Who
is it you really are
But
that which has never been?
*
* * *
Divine
madness is a rare inclination,
A
drunk which few truly imbibe
As
fully as eternity allows.
*
* * *
Most
would be better off
Discarding
their spiritual libraries
And
sitting alone by a river
Until
they figure it out.
*
* * *
Sit
detached in the scene surrounding you,
Let
the senses run their course without interference,
And
you will know the sweet serenity of eternity.
*
* * *
No
matter how you package it,
Dogma
will never be true religion.
*
* * *
If
you use these words to divisive ends,
You
have not understood the freedom they imply.
*
* * *
For some the paradigm has already changed.
*
* * *
The
relativity of reality is colored perfectly, pristinely gray.
*
* * *
Perhaps
it is your destiny
To
sleep through eternity.
*
* * *
Greed
seeps its way into hearts and minds
And
creates hells few can but hope to escape.
*
* * *
God
help us all if heaven is what so many imagine.
What
the blind see, what the ignorant know is so often
Crazed
by delusions well beyond any reckoning.
What
god would prize such madness?
*
* * *
To
think you can measure
That
which can never be measured.
What
games consciousness plays upon its Self.
*
* * *
It
is so simple,
Yet
we torture ourselves
And
each other
For
the mind’s desire
To
have it be so complex.
*
* * *
If
you cannot discern heaven in this brief lifetime,
What
makes you think you will be ready
Or
deserve it in the next?
*
* * *
Be
cautious and open as you approach analogies and parables.
It
often takes more than one look to comprehend
What
is truly being said.
*
* * *
God and the devil are the same.
It
is ignorance which has devised
Two
masks for the faceless one.
*
* * *
What
higher high do you seek
But
one devised by imagination?
You
are already everything
You
could hope to be.
*
* * *
The
linear play of time and space
Have
no absolute existence
Outside
the limited mind.
The
parts are entirely imagined
And
posses no reality in themselves.
Yet
to exist we must all pretend some reality
Or
return to the oblivion from whence all were born.
*
* * *
The
moment in which any artistry is achieved
Is
such a pleasant, satisfying experience.
*
* * *
Your
personal view of god is not god, nor is anyone else’s.
It
is your distinctive attachments which sway you
Into
arranging everything personally.
*
* * *
The
dogmatic cling to their authority
Like
a whore does her virginity.
*
* * *
One
person’s waste is another’s saving grace.
*
* * *
Eternal
salvation is not for the greedy.
*
* * *
The
promise of heaven
Or
the threat of hell
Is
the game of limited thinking,
A
misunderstanding of what early psychologists
Were
saying of the manifest mind.
*
* * *
Life
is eternity played out in time.
*
* * *
It
is all the play of godness,
And
yours is just another
Ever-changing
face painting.
*
* * *
The
sorrow comes from clinging
To
the physical nature.
*
* * *
A
soul with a view.
*
* * *
The
genetic drives, the hungers and thirsts,
The
sexual longings, the senses feeding into the mind,
All
mesmerize you into believing your food-born, thought-identity real.
*
* * *
Samadhi,
nirvana, bliss, call it what you will,
It
is merely what is there when you are not.
*
* * *
Be
vain if you must,
But
don’t pretend you aren’t.
Nothing
is more tiring than hypocrisy.
*
* * *
Eternity
is not a product of time.
*
* * *
Despite
humanity’s ignoring it’s reality,
Natural
selection is very much the law.
*
* * *
Why
do seers write so many musings of the mystery of existence?
Because
that is where their primary interest resides,
And
they are just putting in their time
Till
time ends.
*
* * *
There
has never been but one soul
In
every form imaginable.
*
* * *
Time
sets the stage for all things in god’s many eyes.
*
* * *
A
mind without an identity
Is
like a shadow without a dream.
*
* * *
There
is only one way.
It
is not bound by any dream.
There
are countless dreams, but none
Are
more than reflections,
Slights
of hand
Of
the vast infinity.
*
* * *
Make
the effort until it all becomes effortless.
*
* * *
What
to do in this existence
When
one foot is in illusion
And
the other in oblivion.
*
* * *
History
has a curious tendency
To
be edited, rewritten and forgotten
Over
and over again in the course of time.
*
* * *
The
vibration of waves crashing
Tells
only of the great ocean
Out
beyond all horizons.
*
* * *
When
will you learn
Not
to believe
Everything
you hear?
*
* * *
Just
because it was said or written long ago, or even yesterday,
Does
not mean all that much, despite the assertions
Of
the many so convinced it does.
*
* * *
Use analogies and parables as you would a ladder,
But
put the ladder away when it is no longer needed.
*
* * *
The
serenity of illumination
Is
not dependent
Upon
the play of time.
*
* * *
No
need to pretend anymore.
*
* * *
Time
is relative to the space,
And
space relative to the time,
Neither
existing but through
The
witness of the mind.
*
* * *
Others
observe only a body-mind identity
And
its countless actions and words.
Few
see the essence within you
Is
the essence within all.
*
* * *
That
within, that without, all the same.
*
* * *
What
matter what any other thinks?
Why
would any bird return to a caged life?
*
* * *
That
birthed of limitation
Must
ever abide in limitation.
That
which is prior to all limitation
Can
never be confined or narrowed
Even
by the most determined attempts.
*
* * *
When
you are anonymous within,
You
may attain invisibility without as well.
*
* * *
Can humanity ever get control of its wayward dream?
Only
time will tell, but not without an exodus
Though
countless nightmarish histories yet to come.
The
play of godness has much in store for the manifest dream.
*
* * *
Allow
your Self the drunk of godness.
There
truly is no other drink to rival it.
*
* * *
Any
forest eventually needs
An
expedient, efficient bonfire
To
thin out the dead wood.
*
* * *
Just
remember that it is you who wakes up every day
And makes the mortal
choice to reincarnate
To pick up and carry
the bag of shit
Stinking up the mind.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved