XLIX
God is
an invention of the limited mind
To
quell the untenable superstitious fears
Of that
which can never be known.
* * * *
Commitment
is the mind’s quest in time
For the
continuity of imagined sequences.
* * * *
Belief
is founded upon the desire for more,
And
there is ultimately no such thing.
* * * *
The
present is lost to the past
Faster
than the senses can get a reading.
There
really is no passing moment anyone can grasp
Which
is not tainted by the mind’s limitations.
* * * *
As old
as old is,
It is
as young as it has ever been,
Born of
the unborn in light’s bittersweet play of creation.
* * * *
If
humanity truly wanted
Or was
capable of peaceful coexistence,
It
would be a manifest reality.
* * * *
You are
the result of god’s playful desire
To
experience every form of creation imaginable.
* * * *
In the
course of realization toward liberation,
The
animal instincts lose their sensory foothold
And
fall away as chaff does from a granule of wheat.
* * * *
Who can
anyone truly help in this mad world?
Each
must alone discern the cause and remedy of suffering,
And
begin the unfathomable journey into that birthright which is truly home.
* * * *
What
heights and depths the mind transverses
In the
time-bound journey of consciousness.
* * * *
Between
passion and equanimity
Is a
river few can navigate without aid,
One
that ferrymen cross again and again,
Harbingers
for those seeking eternal salvation.
* * * *
From
the origin of all, you are no more or less divine
Than
any other manifest possibility of this dream of godness.
The
only difference between you and anything else
Is the
potential to realize and reunify
With
your ultimate nature.
* * * *
Becoming
is the process of time
Born of
the movement of mind.
Being
is the field prior to all dreams
From
which eternity momentarily blossoms.
* * * *
There
are so many explanations
For
that which can never be explained,
So many
reasons for that which needs none.
Those
bound to time are unable to make sense of it
Without
being hopelessly ensnared in the net of concepts.
Freedom
comes only in the cessation of vain struggle.
* * * *
To
become the part that is whole,
Eliminate
the part that is not.
* * * *
Finding
contentment in the changing nature
Of
sickness, injury, aging and dying
Is not
easy for any mind.
* * * *
Attachment
to life is death, and death life.
A
paradox only the most resolute see.
* * * *
If a
grain of dust has yet to be born,
What
makes you, a pile of dust,
So sure
you ever were?
Mud
packed together,
Given
reflection in light,
Creates
a conscious presence,
An
individuality porous to introspection,
An
indivisible mystery so thoughtlessly squandered.
* * * *
Those
who are not ready
Will
set these words down
And
return to their slumber.
* * * *
Grace
is the return to that which is god-given.
* * * *
Each is
born adrift in temptation,
Succumbing
to one illusion after another
Until
all divisions become bitter fruit,
And
freedom its own reward.
* * * *
The
seers are their own experiments.
* * * *
Maya is
the great tempter,
Yet her
teachings are eternal
For all
born unborn to see.
* * * *
When
were any born if not prior to all beginnings?
* * * *
To
journey through the sea of concepts
Through
that stillness from which all originates,
Requires
a discerning concentration
Free of
the mind-body’s desire
To
continue in time.
* * * *
We all
experience upon each other,
All too
often in ways that create
Such
unnecessary torment.
* * * *
As
thought is transient,
So is
every form it, in collusion
With
the senses, imagines.
* * * *
Those who
do not know themselves
To be
the way, truth and light
Will
inherit the earth.
* * * *
To
presume the role of judge is a sorrowful course.
* * * *
What
creates time but the mind born of time?
What
sees eternity but that which is eternal?
* * * *
There
is no census
On how
many prophets
History
has long since forgotten.
The
most famous are given great weight,
But in
reality all are quite equal.
* * * *
Relinquish
all that is past,
All
that is past projecting future,
All
that is past transpiring into future,
All
that is the creation of the limited mind
Caught
in an imagined vehicle bound by time.
* * * *
Hell is
separation from the unity.
It
comes about through an infinitum
Of
permutations born of light’s illusions.
Each
must alone travel in time’s winding maze,
Facing
the damnation of the individual mind’s creation,
Until
through unfailing discernment is undeniably, irrevocably seen
The
pathless, eternal, indivisible, universal, sovereign, naught-but-one within.
* * * *
Unceasing
are the paths to confusion and strife.
Uncompromising
is the unitary sovereignty
Of that
which is eternally absolute.
* * * *
Eternal
life has nothing to do
With
the many concepts
Used to
realize it.
* * * *
If this
play of words
Does
not aid your journey
Into
the surrender of true being
Then
cast them into the fire
And
continue on
As you
will.
* * * *
What is
that state
Wherein
the thoughts
Of a
mortal seem to be
One
with those immortal?
* * * *
The
greatest power,
The
greatest fortune,
The
greatest knowledge,
Are within
those who do not need it.
* * * *
The
literal-minded and crafty are ever doomed
To
return again and again to the world of illusion.
Until
they learn the discipline, strength and insight
To
transcend beyond its imagined and limited nature.
* * * *
To
cross the roaring river requires courage and tenacity.
To show
its way to others, to travel back and forth enough
To know
the journey between hell and heaven and beyond,
Is something
anyone might feel called to do without question,
Yet who
can comprehend why any life is played out as it is?
* * * *
There
have always been many false prophets
Who
used their partial knowledge to trap others
In the
webs of their tarnished desire-filled insights.
So many
wishing to surrender to that which is true,
Yet
ever looking for someone else to light the way.
* * * *
Making
it one is the arduous work
Of an
effortless, indivisible mind.
* * * *
True
law is without dogma.
* * * *
If not
parent or child, brother or sister,
All
Eden’s creatures great and small
Are
surely distant cousins, one in all.
* * * *
Of what
use is any philosophy if soiled with disharmony?
* * * *
What is
proclaimed god is within all that is.
If you
do not see this one, single fact
It is
your life’s missed fortune.
* * * *
The
lines and spectrums of all distinctions
Are
carved and weighted by imagination.
* * * *
To
conceive
The
unfathomable
Is the
awareness of that
Which
creates no distinctions.
It is
the quiet drunk of the god-realized
Mystics,
seers, prophets, buddhas and christs.
Call
them what you will, all are served at the same bar.
* * * *
As long
as you look to birth and death as reality,
You
will not within discern the unborn nature
Which
is the true origin of all dreams.
* * * *
Godness
is what Oz only pretended to be:
Omnipresent,
omnipotent, omnipotent.
Obviously
the sort with a finger in every pie,
Even
ones so mortal and fragile as me and you.
* * * *
If you
did not step on thorns or stub your toes,
Would
you ever look where you are going?
* * * *
Stories
are merely stories to children,
Confusing
to the ignorant seeking entertainment,
And
enlightening to those questing wisdom.
* * * *
Wretched
is the soul whose journey creates
Only
misery, division and remorse.
* * * *
Hate
and anger smolders in time.
Love
springs eternal.
* * * *
Love is
not so very many things,
And to say
what it truly is
Is
impossible to say.
* * * *
Superstitious
notions germinate out
Of the
mind’s dread of the unknown,
Its endless
futile craving for security,
For the
immortality of consciousness
Sustained
only by time’s swift illusion.
* * * *
Every
manifest form whether alive or inert,
Is
conscripted by spontaneous circumstance
To an
unavoidable, endlessly changing destiny.
It is
an individual timeless experiencing played out
In the
indivisible infinity of intelligent awareness,
Mysterious
and unknowable at every juncture.
To
zealously tether to a single limited perspective
Misses
the true wonder from which all creation springs.
* * * *
Harmony
within is as challenging as it is without.
Each of
us in our passion creates rationalizations,
Vain
attempts to remedy confusion and ignorance.
Healing
the schism within one’s soul requires each
To
develop the patient skill of a discerning physician,
And
with insightful intuition manifest a gentle serenity,
A
rebirth of the unitary eternal nature dwelling within all.
* * * *
The
world humans as a species are manifesting
Makes
harmony just another useless ideal.
The
discord of rigid, exclusive mindsets
Competing
for psychological survival
Moves
us rapidly towards destruction.
How
difficult it is to see clearly and calmly
That
survival of all life forms on this island garden
Depends
upon the wise, allowing guardianship of each.
* * * *
Now is
without beginning or end,
As it
has ever been and will ever be.
* * * *
Does it
matter?
Not
unless everyone colludes it so.
* * * *
To be
free you must in intuitive awareness
Seek
that which is prior to time and space
And the
flawed inventions of limited minds.
It is
the living death of the imagined individual
And its
rebirth into the indivisible life of the eternal.
* * * *
Each of
is the catalyst to our own mortal invention,
An
imagined creation through which only the rarest see.
* * * *
All have
equal right to the eternal knowing.
There
is no middleman with claim to authority
Over
any other being but what in fear is allowed.
* * * *
The
simplicity of it
Is made
complex by minds
Battling
for individual survival in time,
For the
continuity of dreams of vain fabrication.
* * * *
Individuality
is the source of suffering.
It is
the isolation born of sensory division,
The
selfishness created by ignorant delusion.
* * * *
What is
any personality but an adaptation of a passionate mind?
* * * *
Most
are so blinded by the darkness of the cave
That
the light outside is defined as impossible.
* * * *
This is
a world where the imbalanced collusions
Are
called sane and balanced ones insane.
There
is no sense to it in this mind’s eye.
* * * *
Unencumber
your Self of all history.
Find
your home in the homeless nature.
* * * *
Only
the ignorant foolishly believe
There
is anything to really save.
* * * *
To
discern reality you must somehow earn a frame of mind
Able to
see the topsy-turvy, inside-out, convoluted nature.
* * * *
Every
grouping cuts up the world into its mindset,
Into a
mythology explaining the mystery of existence.
This
make-believe knowledge is given increasing weight
As tradition
snowballs in its time-bound manner,
Until
its edifice becomes so veiled
Only
the dead call it life.
* * * *
The
eternal wonder of Eden is staled by time-bound continuities,
Vain
histories out of sync with eternity’s dusty ethereal reality.
* * * *
None
are separate from god
But
through insistent delusion.
* * * *
Humanity
squanders its potential
In such
vain ways.
* * * *
To die
or not to die
Before
the body’s mortal end,
That is
the question.
* * * *
The
elemental universe
Is
bound by the limitations
Of its
manifest nature.
* * * *
For the absolute,
In
this unfolding moment,
An
unparalleled view
Of all creation.
* * * *
The
universal mind is an eternal void
Unburdened
by the manifest nature.
* * * *
One step after another,
any given ant makes its way.
* * * *
You
are that
Which
neither word, number nor symbol
Can
ever command.
*
* * *
So many seem to delude themselves that one god or
another
Will resurrect their temporal mortal form in one
ever forever-after or another.
Few have the fortitude and tenacity to discern
that here now
Is all any dreamtime can ever offer.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved