CXLIII
Can
you exist in this sensory world without wanting anything from it?
Can
you dabble in its reality and still peer into the unknown
Without
suffering intensely from the carnal reality?
Must
you always be completely detached
To
walk serenely in time and space?
Questions
to which only you
Can
discern answers.
*
* * *
Look
across the river and see your Self
Looking
back from the other side.
*
* * *
As
honest as it gets.
*
* * *
Mystical
union.
*
* * *
The
vanity of reason.
*
* * *
Pride
will one day ebb out with that last breath.
*
* * *
Surrender and the silence just sort of takes over.
*
* * *
All
names eventually wash away in the sand.
*
* * *
Jesus
hung with the street folk
Because
the disenfranchised souls
Were
the only ones who could hear him.
*
* * *
You
are immortal, but not in form.
*
* * *
The
unexpected is generally hard to predict.
*
* * *
Duh.
*
* * *
Waste of time?
How
can you ever waste
Something
that does not exist?
*
* * *
Life
is the mirage of a deceptive reality.
*
* * *
Abide the limits until all limits end.
*
* * *
If
you only idealize totality,
You
have not become it.
*
* * *
Oh,
how budding egos do savage their world.
*
* * *
The
field of consciousness is crowded
With
an infinity of names inspired by a world
Full
of divisive mythologies, all equally meaningless
To
the absolute nature from which it is birthed.
*
* * *
Why all this psychological violence?
This
drive to hurt one another?
To
destroy all opposition?
This
competitive drive
Which
has created
So
much confusion.
*
* * *
And
when the mind ends as you know it,
What
becomes of the craving?
*
* * *
One
thousand, three thousand years hence,
Will
they still be vainly waiting for some messiah?
Will
superstitious poppycock still rule consciousness?
*
* * *
The
rules by which Mother Nature operates
Are
simple, straight-forward, and unchanging.
The
finite mind may pretend it is supreme,
But
that is only the ultimate delusion.
*
* * *
The
god most worship seems to be
As
vain, petty, and blood-thirsty as they.
*
* * *
The
essence you are is untouched
By
the human dream’s brief passing.
*
* * *
Detached
witness prior to all constraints.
*
* * *
The
bliss of Eden is still very much present
Except
in minds crowded with busy self-importance.
The
beast in its instinctual base will never
Create
the inane dualistic notions
Humanity
has trumpeted
Again
and again
Into
the silence of eternity.
*
* * *
Even
a cockroach has got Soul.
*
* * *
From
small to large and large to small,
That
which never sleeps sees it all.
*
* * *
Don’t
take it so personal.
*
* * *
Have
you seen your face yet?
Do
you think you ever will?
*
* * *
Whether
you wake up or not
Is
really your own affair.
*
* * *
Where
else can history exist but your mind?
*
* * *
What
it is, it is not.
*
* * *
The
mind is a receiver.
The
reception within the no-mind
Is
clear beyond all form.
*
* * *
So
many believe eternity a product of time,
When
in fact the unborn has absolutely
No
relationship to it whatsoever.
*
* * *
Can’t
argue fate.
*
* * *
Who
can do more than speculate
Why
some are bestowed this eternal insight
While
so many are born to seek out only manifest theatre.
What
an enigma this weaving of heaven and earth.
These
words are dedicated to those few
Who
are fated to discrimination
Of
the highest order.
*
* * *
People
are like collections of music.
Some
you enjoy listening to over and over,
While
others you hear once and never want to again.
*
* * *
From
the concept zero, all others come.
*
* * *
Where
would humanity be
If
not for paper, printing press,
And
all the subsequent technology?
*
* * *
Filled
with ego the mind is like a muddy river.
*
* * *
Seems
likely that someday
Humanity
will return to its aboriginal roots.
Mother
Nature will not likely tolerate this arrogance forever.
*
* * *
What
is the body but a vat of chemical stew
Playing
out the permutations of its seed origin.
*
* * *
What misery the mind
Bound
to the manifest dream
Does
weave.
*
* * *
Another
reminder to not get caught up
Believing
analogies, symbols, rituals, archetypes, tradition
Or
anything else concocted by the mind
To
be eternally real.
*
* * *
We are really just playing out the paradigm invoked
By
natural selection prior to the froth of civilization.
*
* * *
Find
your home in the homeless nature
Of
whatever context you abide.
*
* * *
Whether you cater or resist
The
veiled universe of the senses,
You
are ever mired in the duality of illusion.
*
* * *
Can’t win for losing.
*
* * *
Whether
conscious of it or not,
We are all equal witnesses to the mystery.
*
* * *
No
way out, sorry.
*
* * *
Desire is sort of an act of self-absorbed torture.
*
* * *
The
creatures who abide humanity
Are
able to adapt to the mind’s linear mode.
*
* * *
Where
is good and evil located in an atom?
*
* * *
Does
the boat recall its wake or the train the rail?
*
* * *
Why
does humanity,
Individually
or collectively,
Give
the past so much weight?
*
* * *
In
the personal sense, you are responsible for the world you create.
In
the impersonal sense it is but a spontaneous undertaking
For
which you have no responsibility whatsoever.
Which
way you see it depends entirely
On
your desire to participate.
*
* * *
All
concepts are born of time.
Not
one exists eternally.
*
* * *
Creation is dust playing out every form imaginable
In
the interminable reality in which Maya rules.
*
* * *
Build
whatever monolith you will,
Sooner
or later the demolition experts:
Wind,
water, earth, and fire will ground it back
Into
the eternal maelstrom.
*
* * *
You
are not responsible
For
the propaganda of time
Which
you are fed from day one,
Only
that which you choose to swallow.
*
* * *
How
can any vow hold up to time?
*
* * *
There
can be peace in violence and violence in peace.
Appearances
are not always what they seem.
*
* * *
Like
all opinions and thoughts
These
too are just more dust.
*
* * *
Hmmm…What
was I going to say?
Oh
yeah, forget it.
*
* * *
Is
news anything more
Than
another level of gossip?
*
* * *
Funny
how you can stare something obvious
Right
in the face and never see it.
*
* * *
When you give over to death
The
dream continues on without you,
But
your temporal part disappears, forever lost
In
Maya’s ever-kaleidoscoping rainbow.
*
* * *
Nosey
minds want to know.
*
* * *
Pagans
seem to be those
Who
disagree with the labels,
Not
necessarily the definitions.
*
* * *
There
really is not much point to judging another.
No
one can really help but play out the part
Time
and space have created for them.
*
* * *
Always
be sure to read the small print before you sign.
*
* * *
Read
enough history to discern it does not truly exist
But
for the imaginative collusion of those who cling to time.
*
* * *
Laugh
or cry, yell or sigh, it all passes the same.
*
* * *
We are all just chemical entities
Hallucinating
our individual delusions.
*
* * *
Travel
whatever time or space you will,
Inhabit
whatever form pleases your vanity,
Receive
whatever signals manifestation allows,
It
is ever the same one playing out diversity.
*
* * *
Who
do you feel sorry for
But
a figment of imagination?
*
* * *
Were
you really granted much choice
In
the persona time and space
Molded
you to perform?
*
* * *
I
am That I Am.
Your
are That I Am.
There
is no other.
*
* * *
Organized
religions across the world
Have
marketed the one god concept well,
But
forgot to include themselves in the process.
*
* * *
History
is a debt for which the future pays in many ways.
*
* * *
You see what you have agreed to see.
*
* * *
The
Beast destroys life.
*
* * *
When
you stop trying to hold onto time,
Eternity
blossoms in consciousness.
*
* * *
Concepts
weave the veil of illusion.
*
* * *
The
bad guys only lose in the movies.
*
* * *
Here
you are caught in time
Which
only exists because of a body,
Which
changes in so many ways every moment,
Eventually
wearing out and falling off
No
matter how you treat it.
*
* * *
How
preoccupied with our bodies we become.
Birthed
of the choiceless serenity of untrammeled awareness,
We
relinquish that uncarved bliss for the tortures
Inflicted
by the senses and mind.
*
* * *
Why?
Because
free will is a lie.
*
* * *
In
a time long, long ago, far, far away,
You
were so easily convinced that you existed.
All
in a dream, all in a dream, the loading had begun…
*
* * *
You
forget and then you remember,
And
from then on you work on
Remembering
to forget.
*
* * *
Merge
into the freedom
In
which all truly reside.
*
* * *
Do
the senses function as the mind wills,
Or
does the mind function as the senses will,
Or
is there any separation between the two?
*
* * *
Space,
the final frontier.
*
* * *
You
will not understand death until you are ready to die.
*
* * *
Is
there anything more humbling
Than
having your rear cleaned by another?
*
* * *
You
so badly want your trip validated,
Yet
is it anymore legitimate
Than
anyone else’s?
*
* * *
Whatever
ever you say, Your Vanity.
*
* * *
Just
because it appears real has never,
Will
never, can never make it so.
*
* * *
The
truly logical mind cannot be bound by its logic.
All
rational thinking is founded upon intuition,
The
key to eternal life, the key home.
*
* * *
Eternal
life is when the body cedes
Its
individuality to its timeless origin.
*
* * *
There
are three essential ways
To
play out the manifest dreamtime.
There
are those who give, those who take,
And
those of whom many others must take care.
Everyone
does a good share of each,
But
most will be weighted
One
way or another.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved