LXI
It is
the swirl of desire and fear that inspires the dream.
Endure
as best ye may all your suffering.
It is
your greatest teacher.
* * * *
What
need you names?
* * * *
Every
assumption humanity makes
Is
founded upon the natural order
The
laws of manifest existence.
* * * *
May all
Hallmark holidays
Fall
into the abyss they deserve.
* * * *
The
mists of time can play havoc in your mind.
* * * *
This is
the current present.
* * * *
Joy and
sorrow, smiles and frowns,
Each as
impermanent as the other,
Drifting
back and forth, to and fro
In the
currents of thought’s reverie.
* * * *
When
the tablet empties, the child
Remains
prior to all contexts.
* * * *
For the
media to deny its responsibility
In this
fine mess is an abysmal delusion.
* * * *
This is
the final conclusion,
Until
the confusion arises again.
* * * *
Said it
all and will say it again and again.
* * * *
Meditation
is floating away.
* * * *
Creation
is evolution and evolution is creation.
They
have never been mutually exclusive.
* * * *
It is
not your words, but your actions
Which
announce your true religion.
* * * *
That
which is built upon time only becomes
More
ritualized, decadent and trivial.
* * * *
Meaning
and purpose are concocted
In the
unfolding of moment-to-moment experiencing.
* * * *
Subtlety
is lost upon the literal mind.
It will
run, condemn or kill to retain its delusion.
* * * *
How
often one man’s passion
Casts
another as victim.
* * * *
How
challenging to live in a world
So
filled with discontent and rancor.
* * * *
Every
single part and particle
Is
connected to the same infinity.
* * * *
Physician,
heal thyself,
Means
simply it is you, and you alone,
Who
must alone discern and uncleave the universe
You
have so precisely pulled into pieces.
* * * *
The
masses see madmen as sane and the sane as mad.
So much
paradox and irony this extemporaneous world.
* * * *
Your
time is linked in memory.
* * * *
The
changing only wears down
That
which is changeable.
* * * *
The
most incredible thing about the followers
Is that
they really believe they understand
What
the originators were truly saying.
* * * *
Life’s
gift sometimes loses its sheen.
Who
does not occasionally wonder,
Especially
in moments of struggle,
Why it
was given in the first place.
* * * *
All
these thoughts,
From
where do they come?
Why,
why, I do not know,
And
less and less
Do I
care.
* * * *
Can you
ever really be sure
That
any of it ever happened?
Or is
life merely vague perceptions,
Selected
assumptions, vain declarations,
All as
brief as sand dunes weathered
By the
ceaseless wind of eternity.
* * * *
What
distance is there
Between
here and there?
What
time between now and then?
What
measurement between this or that?
But the
mind weighing, weighing, ever weighing?
* * * *
When
they have nothing better to do with their lives,
People
become tourists, plying one decadence or another.
What a
pathetic, anemic species we are becoming.
Is it
innocence, or the drab mush of excess?
* * * *
The
well of eternity can never run dry.
* * * *
The
inconsiderate guest
Is the
eternal challenge.
* * * *
To
surrender you must yield the center.
* * * *
The
only block to eternity is the you
You
continuously fabricate.
* * * *
Dilemma
tends to force questioning
Upon
those of subtle spirit.
* * * *
Few
flowers stay full for long.
* * * *
Even
Buddha meditates best
On a
reasonably full belly.
* * * *
An
obligatory life
Is not
much to look back upon.
* * * *
Most
want their bodies and hearts healed,
But
rare are those who find remedy in the mind.
* * * *
Consciousness
is the trading ground of desire.
* * * *
Avoid
adopting the labels others set before you.
Be
especially wary of those you paste upon yourself.
* * * *
Caveat: Many of these thoughts are opinions, not
truths.
Sometimes
they just sound good, the way words,
Even
the mistaken ones, often do.
* * * *
You can
almost always spot a tourist.
* * * *
Would
Darwin burst from uncontrollable
laughter
At the
direction humanity is heading?
* * * *
What
suffering there is
Is
solely for this end.
* * * *
Real
revolution is unformatted.
* * * *
All
roads lead to oblivion.
* * * *
Was
there truly any other choice?
* * * *
Sometimes
you’ve just got to throw out
That
rotten sack of potatoes.
* * * *
No one
can legally deprive you
Of your
god-given right to survive.
* * * *
How
many fly wings must be pulled
To
comprehend the pain life too often endures?
* * * *
And
then there are those who seek
To
occupy every toilet and urinal on campus
At
least once.
* * * *
Identity
is forced upon each and every one of us.
It is
the play of consciousness as set out in the human drama.
Its
free will outcome, though not apparent now, is ultimately predestined.
* * * *
The
finite world is for finite minds.
* * * *
Let
those who believe life is life
Bury
those they think dead.
* * * *
You’ve
save the world ten thousand times
In as
many way, yet it is ever the same.
* * * *
If you
are waiting to be crowned king of the universe,
The
chances grow fatter with every moment’s passing.
* * * *
Being
all, what need have you
For
singular lives?
* * * *
Let it
happen.
Faith,
serene detachment.
* * * *
Exclude
all sense of time and space.
Unfold
into the unreferenced wonder.
* * * *
There
are none who are not godness.
It is
for each to realize alone
If it
is their calling.
Seeing
cannot be force or persuaded.
* * * *
But
still you must carry on,
Playing
out life in time as if it is real.
What to
do with it, how to abide in the paradox
Of
mother’s three-dimensional dream.
* * * *
Consciousness
is consciousness is consciousness.
But
what is it prior to its imaginary reality?
In that
mirrored reckoning is the truth of the matter.
* * * *
Consciousness
is like a breeze
Blowing
though the stillness of awareness.
The
movement prior to the wind’s ephemeral content
Is what
must be intuitively, attentively discerned.
The
awareness, the amness, is perceived
Only by
those who seek the source
Of this
mysterious lightshow.
* * * *
Options
change.
* * * *
And
still consciousness,
Like
the Sirens of Ulysses,
Draws
you into its rocky web.
* * * *
To end
identification with the body-mind
And all
it implies, that is the road less traveled.
* * * *
One
must learn to ignore the ego’s incessant desire
To
retain the selected impressions of space-time.
* * * *
Where
air, water and land meet,
Are
they not the same ocean?
* * * *
Some
say it all happens for a reason.
Whose
reason?
* * * *
When
you consider what the body is,
What is
there to truly identify with?
* * * *
Complete
surrender.
Such
bliss is beyond the realm of the known.
* * * *
Anyone
can see a larger picture
At any
point in time.
Do not
hold anyone to their past.
* * * *
You are
already that which is immortal.
What
greater realization could you possibly want?
* * * *
Burning
bridges can be very foolish,
Unless you
are very sure your course
Will
not require a return in that direction.
* * * *
Eternity
is in every step, every breath, every heartbeat
And
every immeasurable point through which time unfolds.
* * * *
Consciousness,
that which is known, is not the eternal.
It
never has been, nor will it ever be.
Attempts
to manifest the intangible into time
Can
only add to the continuing saga of vain delusion.
* * * *
Justice
is a concept to weather the injustice.
* * * *
Isn’t
one enough?
* * * *
Some
wear suits, others rags.
What
difference really?
* * * *
The
chance cards in the deck of life
Hold a
wide range of surprises.
* * * *
The
only difference between now and then
Is a
larger set of impressions.
* * * *
The
real you can never be tainted by the stains of time.
* * * *
The
fine print said sickness, injury, aging, dying and death.
Perhaps
you will read it a little more closely next time.
* * * *
The
permutations of all creation are, for all practical purposes, infinite.
The
library of all ordered knowledge would fill galaxies.
Busy,
busy, busy.
* * * *
When
any creature great or small is without recourse,
The
choices are boiled down to genetic predisposition.
* * * *
Sometimes
you just have to let the blind stumble about
Until
they see.
* * * *
You
know what you have chosen to know,
See
what you have chosen to see,
Believe
what you have chosen to believe,
Are
what you have chosen to be.
You are
the chosen one.
* * * *
If the
shoe fits,
Take it
to the soul.
* * * *
What
family is truly your own?
* * * *
All
knowledge is yours to sustain
For as
long as you choose.
* * * *
Consciousness
fragments into an infinity of opposites,
Ever
the same, no matter the irony or claim.
* * * *
What
inanity will you endure before this dream’s final end?
How
many days do you wake up wishing you had not?
* * * *
Every
game has an opening, every story an ending.
And the
middle is all the tales told by the historians
Who
survive or later examine the pieces remaining.
* * * *
Gods
within gods within gods.
* * * *
The direction
of any life pursuit
Says
far more about the pursuer.
* * * *
For
want of the only real glory,
We
fabricate so many false ones.
* * * *
Is this
what you would have imagined life to be?
* * * *
Women
may be on the average
More
intelligent than men,
But the
advantage is generally offset
By how
crazy the latter tend to make them.
* * * *
In
any given moment of wonder,
What does it really
matter
What you are doing?
* * * *
It is
the visual sense
Which
gives greatest weight
To the reverie
of time and space.
* * * *
Why
beat your head against the walls of time?
* * * *
Male
violence is well documented,
But
what havoc is born of an uncontrolled womb
In a
world already far too crowded with madness and strife?
What
difference really between scalps and flowers?
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved