28 August 2013

Chapter 66 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


LXVI

Who can prove that you really have any choice in this?

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Humanity is so out of touch with the source.

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We all die as ignorant and a newborn.

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Remember who you have always really been
Is not about any reincarnation.

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It is ridiculous to imagine you or anyone else is some messiah.
Even if there was something to save, no one could.

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Time does not die.
Life is not a circle.

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Perhaps the other is blind that you might see.

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Commitment is such strange fodder to the timeless.

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A crowded mind is a storm in space.

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In one sense there have been many christs and buddhas.
In another there has only been one.

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Reality is not a concept.

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The delusion is believing your ego has created all this.

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We have much more in common than not.

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If you only repeat what others say,
You will never discover anything for yourself.

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See what growing up entails,
And bypass it for a continuing childhood.

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Balloons have a lot of colors and shapes, too.

* * * *
It is the fluctuation of desire
Which creates the havoc.

* * * *
Realize these writing are a personal narrative,
Full of parochial as well as profound aphorisms.
Do not make it into a drama, but a working manual
Which inspires reflections aiding the excursion home.

* * * *
Vanity flares in any passion.

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The only solution to the human dilemma,
To the pox of ego identification,
The confusion of free will,
Is a paradigm of god consciousness
Within all.

* * * *
The relativity includes you.

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Declare what you please,
It is your moment to moment
Which tell the true tale.

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The free have no need
For the conceptual ladders
Of tradition, symbolism and ritual.

* * * *
Leave no duality unchecked.
None are more than temporal fabrication.

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What is the last passion?

* * * *
How rigorous the journey born of time.

* * * *
Anytime you start playing rough,
Sooner or later someone is going to hurt.

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It is all just an infinite patterning, a holograph
Playing at the game of time and space.

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The order we have fabricated out of chaos
Is mortared of chaos.

* * * *
The only difference between a sage and any other is discipline,
The strength to ride the the passionate mind a bit more adeptly.

* * * *
The river to heaven begins in hell.

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What will we do when we have killed off or domesticated the wild,
When we have flooded the world with tortured human souls,
When we have made this incredible garden of mystery
Into a cesspool of avarice and divisive concepts?
What will it take for us to see the gold of clay?

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How difficult not to abuse power.
It is the aphrodisiac of pride.

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Any devil is merely an angel
Who has lost sight of the way home.

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Work out your own law,
But do not expect that any other
Will embrace it completely.

* * * *
Free will is a prison for many.

* * * *
All born of time play out the destiny of its patterning.

* * * *
Give it up, honey.

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For the pride, we suffer so much.

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Reality is neither female nor male.

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Comfort and change do not always go hand-in-hand.

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What’s to take personal?

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The only way to follow this scribe
Is take a good clear look inside.

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We are very confused
Because we have lost touch
With the answer within.

* * * *
The way is clear.

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Vanquish your own ego before you judge another’s.

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You are choiceless witness to time’s paradox.

* * * *
Nothing to gain, nothing to lose.

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The ego is thought frozen in time.

* * * *
How arduous to be content
When surrounded by so many who are not.

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We lack consideration and compassion
For the world we pass on to the unborn.

* * * *
Humans are political animals
With self-interest the foundation,
Whether focused on union or conflict.
Exceptions only prove the world.

* * * *
End all measuring
Return to wonder.

* * * *
All knowledge is finite.

* * * *
Nothing is accomplished
Without focus on the task at hand.

* * * *
You are as clear and you wish to be.

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You never know when you’ll run into a vampire,
Or an angel.

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Why should you be afraid of, or apologetic about
What you are or do?

* * * *
Don’t be too attached to silly putty.

* * * *
So alone.

* * * *
Those who chase illusion are forever thirsty.

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It’s all whatever you are used to.

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The play of consciousness so easily forgets its home.

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Without you there can be no heaven or earth.

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Avoid letting a lesser vision sway you.

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You’ll be dead  before you know it.

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The art of fishing is allowing the fish to catch itself.

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The powers that be always twist the words of truth to their own ends.

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It’s all alive in its own eternal way.

* * * *
You are an opportunity to exist
As capacity and limitation allow.

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There are ultimately, of course,
No limitations to the scope of the play.

* * * *
Keep wiping away the dust and nothing’s left.

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What is the point of sentencing
A  child or any other lifeform
To an existence which lacks merit?

* * * *
Self-absorption is a hellish drifting.

* * * *
Age does not make an asshole wiser.
Give wisdom and bullshit their respective dues.

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Is it love?  Is it passion?

* * * *
The mystery of it all is that the godness
Will surrender indiscriminately, without hesitation,
To whatever part the patterning creates.

* * * *
Anyone is what they do
Much more than what they say.

* * * *
Why narrow your Self with a label?

* * * *
Just because someone can communicate
Doesn’t mean they can think clearly.

* * * *
Is it better a bad man die that none suffer the future with his presence,
Or a good man die that we model our future in some like-imagined manner?

* * * *
Judge no other for ye surely judge your Self most hardily.

* * * *
What decisions to make, which direction to take
Once the immortal sovereignty is discerned
Is the dividing line between those who fall
And those who see from upon the throne.

* * * *
The outcome of all these thoughts
Is either to play Buddha or forsake the world,
The same in either case.

* * * *
Imitation doesn’t offer much to chew on.

* * * *
The grip you allow time in the mind
Is the course of free will’s choosing.

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These thoughts are given with brief hesitation,
For there is no insight into the ends they may take.

* * * *
Are we really any more than water bags of self-interest?

* * * *
How arduous for the intelligent
To suffer the many inanities of others
Bound so firmly in limitation and ignorance.

* * * *
The psychic vampires of the world
Are the ill-treated and neglected.
Did you expect they would not
Someday harvest a revenge?

* * * *
So much of what any of us do in our lives
Is correlated to the genetic predisposition
To gain approval from one other or another.

* * * *
The wanting creates the goal.
And if you want very little,
Or nothing at all … ?

* * * *
Godness is not outside you.
It is the witnessing within.

* * * *
The little people either envy, ridicule or ignore the climbers.

* * * *
Real revolution is the conquest of time.
It is the discerning surrender to eternity.

* * * *
It seems to be the nature of this dreamtime
To find countless ways to destroy its creations.

* * * *
You think there is just one anti-christ?

* * * *
Wake up and smell the coffee.
Its ever coffee no matter the blend.

* * * *
Your body?!  What vanity!

* * * *
Challenge the patterns however you will,
The patterning plays on and on and on.

* * * *
The challenge of drugs is not letting them sway
Your temporal self-absorbed delusions even further.
Don’t freak out, get a grip on the mind’s jaunts into fear.
Chances are no one is really even paying attention to you.
Be familiar enough with your routines, your patterns,
That nothing out of the ordinary takes place.

* * * *
Second-guessing history is a good way to prove
You probably wouldn’t do much better.

* * * *
The origin of time was set in motion
With the division of male and female,
With the countless mutations of meiosis,
And the astonishing number of permutations
Its potential creates in the play of consciousness.

* * * *
You need not explain, you need not justify your truth to any other.
That you feel and know it to the depths of your being is enough.

* * * *
Time really does stand quite still.

* * * *
Alone, amid all, sovereign.

* * * *
Alas, we do seem to hate this world.
So tragic, this overpowering fear
Of that which created us all.

* * * *
Words cannot capture your soul.

* * * *
We know so much, and so little.
All the same, all the same.

* * * *
There is more to sound than what is heard.
There is more to sight than what is seen.
There is more to touch than what is felt.
There is more to taste than what is tasted.
There is more to smell than what is smelled.

* * * *
Wow.

* * * *
What choice have you left a cornered tiger?

* * * *
You cannot wake the dead.

* * * *
The word, the universe,
Is whatever you imagine it to be.

* * * *
The global economy, a Ponzi scheme, très grand.


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