LXXIV
The
eternal optimist is the one inured to death’s way.
* * * *
All
suffering is identification with the unreal,
The
ghostlike, time-bound illusion of all forms,
With
the many inventions of all consciousness.
* * * *
We’ve
got a pile of work ahead
To
straighten out this fine mess.
* * * *
Do you
really expect you can prevent people
From
using drugs to drown their sorrow
When
they have been systemized
Upon a
doctrine of win-lose?
* * * *
Have
you got it, yet?
* * * *
The
universe,
The
song of god
The
realization of Self,
The
source of eternal oneness.
You are
That I Am.
* * * *
The
instant, free of time, expects nothing.
Nothing,
offering nothing, is nothing
But
what imagination imagines.
* * * *
What
need for the forever of time
Once
the forever of now is discerned.
* * * *
There
is no way you can really be lost.
* * * *
Sometimes
you get so much time, you haven’t any.
* * * *
There
is no path but that which is aimlessly wandered.
* * * *
Courage
requires a certain detachment.
* * * *
Every
tool has its time.
* * * *
If you
understood what there is to be understood,
You
would not be concerned about other lives.
* * * *
Hold
your mind still and you will find the peace you seek.
* * * *
That
some awaken, others must sleep.
* * * *
Some
are allowed to live
Because
is will take every lifetime
They
can muster to get their act together.
* * * *
Go with
god and get the hell out.
* * * *
Time
seeks that which time can never know.
How
typical to want most what you cannot have.
* * * *
How
often do you take on
The
conduct and characteristics
Of
those you most resent and detest?
That’s
karma, pure and simple.
* * * *
Amazing
how mutative randomness
Carries
one through the learning curve of life.
What
coincidences are there, really?
* * * *
You are
all that is remembered, all that is forgotten,
All
that is known, and all which can never be.
* * * *
No
matter the manifestation,
Godness
cannot realize its Self
But
through the reflections
Of
imperfect refractions.
* * * *
All
this watching is just another pattern, another habit.
* * * *
Loneliness
is the denial of aloneness.
* * * *
You may
not agree with everything written here,
But at
least it will make you think about these things.
And you
may well never see your world the same again.
* * * *
A
current issue of the same vein
So many
have wandered before.
* * * *
Can it
ever cease to astonish anyone
How
much diversity abides in this creation?
The
incalculable innovations of light and sound
To
which imagination seemingly sets no constraints.
* * * *
You are
far from the first to bemoan the idiocy of our species.
* * * *
You
wail about your fate,
Yet
pity offers no reprieve
From a
fate etched in dust.
* * * *
To have
heard another’s story,
To have
imagined a different role,
Is in a
sense to have lived that part.
* * * *
Most
personality roles are most likely too unappetizing
For
anyone else to even remotely desire playing.
Who
else would you really aspire to play?
And
would your context allow it?
* * * *
What
pain we create for each other.
* * * *
If you
take it all personal,
You
will endure great pain.
* * * *
What
bluffs we play upon our world.
* * * *
How
much can you get for the least investment
A
common refrain.
* * * *
What
adventure does the mystery beckon you next?
* * * *
A
certain amount of self-restraint is good discipline
For a
steady, balanced, moderate tack in any life.
* * * *
Let
them think what they will.
* * * *
Let
your loneliness go so deep
The you
hit rock bottom
And
discover its vast reality.
* * * *
A true
king should occasionally
Wear
rags and wander anonymously
Among
the masses to understand
How he
may better lead them.
* * * *
Is this
all happening in the instant of blink,
Or a
blink of an instant?
Too
incredible for words to do more than tell.
* * * *
They
sit in their paltry, isolated, stuccoed boxes
With
the ringers on, hoping against hope
That
even a sales call will interrupt
The
tedium of their loneliness.
* * * *
The
urgency of survival sometimes dictates
How
quickly hesitation must be set aside.
* * * *
The
scribe has been fortunate
To have
never been in a real battle
In his
life up to this point in time.
But the
day is still young.
* * * *
You can
never anticipate
When or
where a krishna will show up.
* * * *
If you
want to pay for something that’s free,
Go
right ahead.
* * * *
All
must someday pay the price,
Individually
and collectively
For our
stubborn pride.
* * * *
A
biological, chemical, electrical, nuclear paradigm.
* * * *
One’s
one no matter how you pick it apart.
* * * *
Death
stalks all.
Immortality
cannot die.
* * * *
Prey or
predator,
One the
other when circles close.
* * * *
Banish
that attachment
With a
blast of inhalation,
A wave
of ocean to simplify
The
ceaseless complications
Of
conscious, time-bound design.
* * * *
It
comes, it goes.
Why oh
why, only fools know.
* * * *
Let’s
put it this way.
We
won’t be missed.
* * * *
You
have always been in love,
In
essence, in substance, in reality,
Whatever
you condescend to baptize it..
* * * *
Some
things just don’t add up.
* * * *
Do you
really believe there is somewhere else you can be?
It’s
all a big light and sound show no matter how you see it.
* * * *
You’re
wired to be you.
* * * *
In
certain things courageous,
In
others nearly petrified with fear.
Craving,
craving, craving all the while.
* * * *
You
destroy without hesitation that which you consider ugly,
Yet
lament the ruin of some romantic, illusory notion.
* * * *
Everything
is used to projected ends.
* * * *
Am I
supposed to applaud?
* * * *
For
what it’s worth to the theater,
This is
the scribe’s contribution.
* * * *
Are you
supposed to applaud?
* * * *
All
conceptual overlays reside on quicksand.
* * * *
The
rich, famous and powerful
Didn’t
get it by giving it away.
* * * *
There
are some lives better never born.
* * * *
Why is
it so many human beings
Only
seem to value human life?
* * * *
Do you
really have any use
For a
god who would create all this?
* * * *
To see
a larger picture
You
must sometimes become blind to
Or tear
apart the smaller ones.
* * * *
What
others think of you
Often
has much to do with
How you
will survive.
* * * *
Do you
really love another?
* * * *
Mother
nature fabricates every possibility
At
every level of her earthly crap table.
The
human reverie is but one permutation.
Nothing
is sacred for any duration but the source.
* * * *
What a
subtle corruption of the soul
Our
dependency on any other
For one
value or another.
* * * *
Do what
you do for love of godness,
Not for
apprehension of retribution.
* * * *
Enlightenment
is not a marketable commodity.
It is
the one inalienable birthright all have in common.
It is
the journey of all life no matter the shroud of ignorance.
* * * *
The
scribe is here to remind you
Of your
place on earth and in heaven,
Of that
which you already know.
* * * *
The you
in limited form cannot know it all.
* * * *
You can
neither go back nor forward in time.
You are
stuck in the now, ever absolute and eternal.
Only in
the imagination of consciousness can you travel time.
* * * *
More
megalomaniac rantings from a vitriolic curmudgeon.
* * * *
Everyone
viewing any portion of the whole sees it
Through
the screen of their nature-nurture circuitry.
* * * *
Language
is the fragmentation,
And its
potential for reunification.
* * * *
You are
That I Am.
All
else is conjecture, speculation, idealism,
Consciousness
endlessly deluding itself in every sort of imaginative flair.
* * * *
So many
projecting some other side.
But
what of the other side’s other sides,
And all
dwelling beyond the next beyond?
Ah,
duality creates so many diverse horizons
To cast
its measuring visions so limited in scope.
* * * *
Is a
cloud any more ephemeral than you?
* * * *
Osmosis
is the power of real revolution.
* * * *
Why
concern yourself endlessly
With
the blather of consciousness?
* * * *
Not
knowing has the tingle of absoluteness.
* * * *
The you
is me,
The me,
myself and I
That I
Am.
* * * *
I am
your witness and you are mine.
* * * *
Negotiating
the maze of time and space
Can be
incredibly arduous.
* * * *
Casting
out demons is another form of psychotherapy.
* * * *
B. F.
D.
* * * *
Peter
Pan will live forever, Wendy.
* * * *
This is
the gospel according to Michael.
Silly
as it is.
* * * *
May the
curse of your parents, your ancestors, fail in every way.
May
your fate, your lot, your destiny, your kismet,
Be
better than it now appears.
* * * *
How
easily leaders around the world
Use
your desire for martyrdom
To
their own futile ends.
* * * *
Why not
be courageous?
* * * *
Best
intentions are often overridden by harsher realities.
* * * *
So
arduous to recall the inward reality in the day to day of living.
* * * *
Are you
bounty or cull in the harvest of imagination?
Will
you be in or out in the great tabulation of speculation?
Will
your fate be a greater heaven or a more irate hell?
Ah, the
never-ending quest for a better ending.
* * * *
May as
well forgive them if you can,
Because
the patterning of time and space
Blind
them, bind them, to the dream they play out.
We are
all walking the same stage in different universes.
* * * *
Are
vested interests, established patterns
Ever
changed or eliminated voluntarily?
* * * *
These
reflections are the outcome of participating
In as
many ways as one frail body would allow.
Is
anyone else really doing it any differently?
* * * *
In the
face of over population’s horror,
They
breed even more adamantly.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved