Chapter 144 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CXLIV

Understand clearly that this work wrote itself,
That these thoughts are merely echoes
Of the stream of consciousness
Within one mystic’s mind,
That any significance
Is left to the given reader.

* * * *
The journey cannot begin
Until you begin to doubt.

* * * *
Not even worth the dignity of an answer.

* * * *
Cast your Self alone.


* * * *
What horrors some parents

Do wreak upon their children.

* * * *
Another shipwrecked life.


* * * *
S/he had to be someone’s
Son, brother, father or grandfather,
Or daughter, sister, mother or grandmother.

* * * *
If that’s love, wouldn’t you rather
Have your guts ripped out
And stomped on?

* * * *
The clarity in which your god nature reflects
Is correlated with the degree desire
Shapes your illusory dream.

* * * *
Those without discernment idolize time’s many forms.

* * * *
Free will has taken humanity to this brink.
Where will it end, only time’s dream knows.

* * * *
Gold weaves into many forms,
But the forms are never gold.

* * * *
Ignore the senses, still the thoughts,

Become the eternal infinity.

* * * *
To become that
Which you are herein ordained,
You must be you Self.

* * * *
The countless carnivals
Are merely distractions which
Temporarily suspend the suffering.

* * * *
As long as godness is held
Outside your heart and mind,
The dream of hell will continue.

* * * *
All fields are the only one.

* * * *
What is that deep desire for approval come from?


* * * *
Hell is created by self-absorbed action,
Heaven by  selfless action.
Very simple.

* * * *
Does anyone really plan their dream?

* * * *
Doubt takes you on one incredible journey.

* * * *
The mind is completely fashioned
By a priori assumptions.

* * * *
Only in dreamtime does the continuity
Of one moment hinge upon another.
All cause and effect are imagined.
To clearly see the origin of time
Is to be free of its conscious grip.

* * * *
That which is godness, that which is unity,
Is not bound by the dreams born of time.
The eternal grace is one without second.

* * * *
How ridiculous our wiser ancestors
Would probably think us.

* * * *
The mind known in time

Can never know eternity.

* * * *
Has any myth ever been real?

* * * *
Just another phase.

* * * *
Consciousness is consciousness,
Neither greater nor lesser,
Higher nor lower,
Good nor evil,
Profound nor base.
The frolic of the waves;
An ocean mystifying the shore
With its capricious noise.

* * * *
Opinion can change as quickly
As a pen is set to paper.

* * * *
History does not really exist.
It is nothing more than imagination.

* * * *
Ownership is filled with obligation.

* * * *
Can the choir ever see itself clearly?

* * * *
One vote counts, but not for much.

* * * *
It’s a heck of a lot of bother
Being made responsible
For someone else’s happiness.

* * * *
Who are you, really?
Just another imaginary creature
Destined to evaporate into oblivion
Like every other drop born of illusion.


* * * *
The power of surrender is eternal.

* * * *
Go left, go right, go forward, or stop.
There’s always an adventure to be had.

* * * *
Impatience with this world changes nothing.

* * * *
Godness is indifference to fate.

* * * *
Don’t be trapped in your mind.

* * * *
What is this love so many claim it to be?

* * * *
No matter the level
Of acknowledgement you may give it,
You are forever connected.

* * * *
Only scientists question the obvious.

* * * *
Is one time enough,
Or must you do or have it
Forever and again?

* * * *
We’ve all got an ending.
Death is the corollary of life.

* * * *
Don’t walk on eggshells.

* * * *
You have seen the future,
And it is alone.

* * * *
Stay where gravity loves you best.

* * * *
Turn all your longing inward.


* * * *
Through the illusion of future past,
You wander alone together with the many.

* * * *
That’s life.

* * * *
Nothing born of time
Can ever be any more perfect
Than it already is.

* * * *
Hate is a never-ending story.

* * * *
Worth at least one or two more glances.

* * * *
Even a so-called supreme being
Probably can’t quite grasp infinity.

* * * *
Waiting, waiting, always waiting.

* * * *
Beauty is no match for time.

* * * *
So many seeking a way to become immortal,
Few ever discerning they already are,
But not in form or thought.

* * * *
You are that which imagines all forms born of time.

* * * *
The human species as we know it, if it survives itself,
Will continue to transform in many ways
Into what only time will tell.

* * * *
Nothing exists but for your eternal awareness as witness.

* * * *
Within each mind’s dream is a Pandora’s Box of passion,
The opening of which invents adventures only time knows.

* * * *
Consciousness is the common denominator of all dreams.

* * * *
The eyes of age
Discern the sovereignty
Of the absoluteness prior to all veils.

* * * *
You are just another thread in the veil.

* * * *
Fear is born of the mind
Seeking the continuity of its desire.

* * * *
You had your time.

* * * *
You are the point and purpose.

* * * *
No illusion will ever fill
That for which you truly hunger.

* * * *
Wanting more than the dream offers
Only magnifies the suffering.

* * * *
That point of genesis which so many ascribe to god
Is the nowness from which consciousness originates
In each and every particle of manifest time and space.

* * * *
If you really want to protect your children
From the suffering of existence,
Don’t have them.

* * * *
A monopoly game always reaches the same conclusion.

* * * *
Our genetic pre-disposition is toward socialization.
We are group animals and loneliness strikes terror into many.
The fact that each is truly alone is not easily faced.

* * * *
Ease into the aloneness that is real.

* * * *
The freedom comes when you stop pretending within,
When the image-maker switch is turned off.

* * * *
Discerning the truth of godness
Is not about power, fame, or wealth.
Those are the false gold of limited scope.

* * * *
The shields of personality are imagined scars,
Only as real as thought can make them.

* * * *
Minds wander far from where self dwells unborn.

* * * *
The religions in word miss the truth free of definition.

* * * *
At the root of all imagination is the original nature,
The creator of this infinitely mysterious dream
That you and all other forms truly are.

* * * *
Measurement is founded upon memory
And the illusion the senses weave
From the ever-changing dynamic of space-time.
The mind free of time discerns the immeasurable, timeless reality,
The oneness in which observer and observed are not.

* * * *
It is very common for those who see beyond the veil
To get tangled up in it in the process of awakening.

* * * *
Humanity’s population enigma is like a can of soda
Shook up and sitting on concrete on a very, very hot day.
Things will get a little messy when the pop-top comes undone.

* * * *
We gossip endlessly about others
And get upset when they whisper about us.
Images only, all dreams, none real, none lasting
Attachment, the source of so much suffering.

* * * *
Whatever that means.

* * * *
What dialogue, what investigation can there be
If any of the participants hides behind a storybook.

* * * *
Humanity fears death
Because it has the capacity to imagine it.

* * * *
You can only hear and see
What you are ready to project.

* * * *
If there is an order to it,
Then death is always last.

* * * *
How many times has space-time been?

* * * *
There really is only one way.
The limited mind may arrogantly fabricate
Every sort of boundary and give it every sort of name,
But that is only a dreamy, kaleidoscoping bubble
Which death, with unfailing surety, pricks.
Dispassionate, tranquil, supreme.

* * * *
Death,
The great custodian.

* * * *
You really have no choice,
But to play out your dreamtime destiny.

* * * *
Would time exist without you
To count, measure, and calculate
The passing illusion?

* * * *
All your memories cannot save you.

* * * *
It can’t happen without you.

* * * *
It is the slowness of the senses
Which lead us into subscribing to time.

* * * *
Underlying form is the truth.

* * * *
Some things just can’t be recaptured.

* * * *
When is a foot not a foot, nor a hand a hand?
Now.

* * * *
Unfiltered awareness makes dreams of all.

* * * *
Words are pretty useless in all this.

* * * *
What an effort it takes to pretend so much.

* * * *
If you didn’t know anything,
Where would you be?

* * * *
What time giveth, time taketh away.

* * * *
If you really want to find out about somebody,
Give them a little power, fame or fortune.

* * * *
Most people never deeply doubt
Most of what they have been told.

* * * *
When it comes to playing the internet,
Be wary where your finger transports you.


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