XVII
Even amidst
the most appalling sights,
The
most blaring sounds, the most bitter tastes,
The
most putrid smells, the most excruciating sensations,
Even in
the face of death itself, the knower of Self can own a laugh.
* * * *
You are
the witness from your slice of the pie.
* * * *
What
possible good does it do
To
revere someone else's knowing
If it
does not lead to your own?
* * * *
You
really only have one parent.
* * * *
Other
than your awareness of it,
You
will never be any more or less
Than
you are right now.
* * * *
At the
other end of that gourmet feast
Is an
indifferent pile of dung.
* * * *
Money
is merely a concept, a tool for survival.
Its
usefulness ends at the morgue.
* * * *
Mythos
sustains itself feeding off your innocence.
Without
your compliance it could not exist.
* * * *
Return
to the womb of creation.
* * * *
Life is
very short no matter how long,
And
very long no matter how short.
* * * *
It is
your light that creates all these reflections.
* * * *
Spiritual
anarchy.
Now.
* * * *
Intolerance
resides in the harbor of ignorance.
* * * *
All
your definitions have no reality
But
what you give them.
* * * *
Time is
the vapor of the ever-present now.
* * * *
There
may be love in passion,
But is
there passion in love?
* * * *
No one
owns the truth.
* * * *
What
identity need a grain of sand have
When
immersed in the shores of infinity?
* * * *
Who is
anyone or anything else
But you
in a different guise?
* * * *
Peel off
her clothes, her hair, her make-up, her jewelry.
Peel
away her exquisite flesh down to the bones, scatter them afar,
And
watch them dissolve in the sandy hourglass of time.
A
romantic outing if there ever was one.
* * * *
Do not
stop until you find you, and you alone.
* * * *
Want
nothing from others
That
they do not think to offer.
* * * *
What is
evil but a projection of superstitious ignorance?
* * * *
A sane
madness.
* * * *
We know
so much, yet understand so little.
* * * *
Words.
So many
So
useless.
* * * *
The
more you own your true nature,
The
more serenely content your being.
* * * *
Have
faith that you will know
What
you need to know
When
you need to know it.
* * * *
Probe
mind with mind,
Heart
with mind,
Mind
with heart,
And
heart with heart.
* * * *
The
mind is a tool,
The
pole in the vault.
* * * *
A drop
of its own accord
Seemingly
has little power,
But
when combined with others
Becomes
rain, rivers, lakes and oceans.
* * * *
There
is no place to run, no place to hide.
You
will always be you no matter what the dream.
* * * *
Go
ahead, pretend that you are godness.
It can
be a thorny crown and rough on the extremities,
But
there is a serenity when the headache's over and the scars heal.
* * * *
That
which is manifest must speak for that which is not.
Listen
for the soundless voice of godness issuing from your heart.
* * * *
It is a
clear mind and an open heart
Which
make you a dwelling of godness.
* * * *
Despite
your illusion of individuality,
You are
that which is indivisible isness.
* * * *
Idolatry
is the self-absorbed play
Of
those who put off or are incapable
Of
discovering their true nature.
* * * *
The
burden of past and future,
Of
identity and all time involves,
Is
strapped on by desire, fear and anger
And the
mistaken belief that they are truly real.
* * * *
In one
sense we all commit suicide.
Merely
by having been born, consciously or not,
Each
seeks out, through free will choices,
One
form of death or another.
* * * *
Until
you awaken to Self
Your
life is the slumber of illusion.
* * * *
Tomorrow
ever arrives today.
* * * *
To know
you are oneness,
To
abide in that grace,
Is
enough for any heart.
* * * *
To know
who you really are
Is to
know everything and everyone
Is ever
the same mysterious you.
* * * *
Look
into any mirror
And see
your own projected reflection.
* * * *
Desire
is a Pandora's box.
Once
opened the tide is ceaseless.
Close
the lid and the passionate swells calm.
* * * *
To
realize without doubt you are godness
And not
this body or the world it entails
Is the
greatest blessing a life can receive.
* * * *
All
manifestation, alive or inert, has a story to spin.
Witness
all and distill the wisdom gleaned.
* * * *
It
takes great courage and discernment
To own
and shine the light you really are.
* * * *
Thought
is insatiable in its desire for more.
It is
the creator of all habit, all addiction.
* * * *
The chatter
of your dreams is no different
Than
that of your awake state.
* * * *
Your
personality has no relationship
With
what you really are.
* * * *
The
love of little self
Is rife
with limits and conditions.
* * * *
All the
pain, all the pleasure
You have
ever known
Have
been great teachings
When
seen in pure consciousness.
* * * *
Tragedy
and boon are merely flip sides
Of the
same consciousness.
* * * *
If you
really love someone or something,
You
need not be with them or own it.
* * * *
Only
you can purify your heart and mind.
* * * *
What is
real is never knowable in anything
But the
most timeless sense of knowing.
* * * *
What is
there to love in anything or anyone, really,
But the
clay of godness dwelling within and without?
* * * *
To take
your identity and your projected world seriously
Is to
miss the opportunity to laugh at a great joke.
* * * *
The
body is a costume, theater garb,
No more
real than one donned on Halloween.
* * * *
That
fact that you are
Makes
godness a divinely logical probability.
* * * *
All is
perfection.
Only
the mind sees it as anything less.
* * * *
Because
you are, you are that.
* * * *
Do not
pretend to love
If you
do not love it all.
* * * *
Quested
through the mind,
It
rests in the heart.
* * * *
It is totally
your free will
To give
or not give yourself over
To the
choicelessness of Self.
* * * *
Evil is
fabricated by the mind of humanity.
It has
no more reality than a shadow.
* * * *
To be
in this world you have no choice but to act.
In what
manner, however, delineates heaven and hell.
* * * *
God,
isness, self, oneness, Allah, Brahman, ground, totality, absoluteness,
And the
infinity of names by which it might also be known,
All
fluid words used interchangeably herein
To pay
homage to that which can never be named.
* * * *
If you
worship and practice only one day a week,
You are
missing out on the other six.
* * * *
You
need not own all the secrets of this mystery
To own
the heart of unity.
* * * *
What do
you think godness used
But its
own clay to create you and your world?
* * * *
If you
believe only the lies the senses weave,
You are
done for.
* * * *
You can
never love your Self too much.
* * * *
Do not
doubt even for a moment
That
you are the beloved.
All
hesitation is born
Of
flawed consciousness.
* * * *
The
mastery you seek is of your Self.
* * * *
In the
quest for freedom,
Better
to attempt and fail and try again
Than to
miss the opportunity entirely.
* * * *
You are
unity manifest in apparent diversity.
Do not
be deceived by the light show.
* * * *
You
cannot do much for those who will not help themselves.
It is a
feast to which all are invited but for which few are truly hungry.
The
illusory play of manifesting light is seductively hypnotizing.
You
alone must wake up if you are ever to return home.
* * * *
Staying
completely awake to this is a challenge
As long
as the light show is the least bit enticing.
* * * *
Once
you own this, there are no more hoops
Through
which you must involuntarily jump.
* * * *
Whatever
you label it is unimportant.
The
play of words too often creates
Unwarranted
dogmatic divisions.
Knowing
your divine union is enough.
* * * *
Discovering
the unmanifest within,
That is
the highest calling.
* * * *
See the
part in the whole
And the
whole in the part.
* * * *
When
Jesus said to follow him,
He did
not mean to imitate, beg or fear.
* * * *
To
believe your part more real or important
Is vain
error.
* * * *
The
drop which separates itself from the ocean
Suffers
the isolating agony of personal hell.
* * * *
Healing
does no good if it merely touches the body.
* * * *
Countless
temptations in every portion of the garden,
Endlessly
vie to seduce you from the journey home.
* * * *
Like
the archer and the target, human consciousness
Has
historically taken countless shots at discovering truth.
Their
success ranges from bull’s eye to missing the mark entirely.
You
alone must discern the aimlessness required.
* * * *
Abolish
all borders and tribal lines.
No
nation or form abides in the eye of isness.
* * * *
The
Lucifer of Maya you fear
Is the
one you create.
* * * *
Divers
return to tell you what is below.
* * * *
What
can you want if you lack nothing?
* * * *
The
heap of bodies it has taken
To
create you at this point of the creation
Is
probably much higher than most would care imagine.
* * * *
Psychologists,
with their countless labels and gimmicks,
Have yet to discern what the mind really is and
is not.
* * * *
Do
infants shriek and wail
Because they divine the
many trials
Awaiting them on the
long and winding trail ahead?
* * * *
Why is it, how is it,
That you will never ever
See your own face?
* * * *
What
do you still want badly enough
To die for again and
again and again.
* * * *
A
beautiful face is a promise that cannot be long kept.
* * * *
Damn
the glory, get off the stage.
* * * *
Better
enjoy every single moment possible,
Glean
everything awareness allows,
The ever-streaming
passing
Is all you really have.
* * * *
You
are not the first to discover the divine origin,
And you most assuredly
won’t be the last,
Yet it is the same oneness
within all,
No matter the time and
space
You intuited the call.
* * * *
The
ultimate detachment in consciousness
Is the immortal
stillness of awareness.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved