CCLXXXII
The young ever inherit the world as it is,
And they, in turn, pass it on to the next generation however they have imbibed it,
Each playing out the grand theater as time allows.
So it goes.
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Why be concerned what any other thinks of you
When all are ultimately nothing more
Than manifest imagination?
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Love does not require decapitated flowers.
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The layers of subtlety run deep, indeed.
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The relativity is an ever-changing fact.
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Less every day.
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Masked and anonymous.
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So many ways to aggravate the mind.
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Always curious how many misdeeds can be gotten away with right in plain sight.
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Dark … dark … the Force … too dark to see.
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There has never been anything before right now.
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It either comes to you or not; no predicting who, what, where, when, why or how.
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Ponder, if you will … Field Notes of the Damned.
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God and the devil, are they really so different?
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Mother Nature can only be savaged so long before she exacts her revenge on all.
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Seeing how things work, how can life not become a simpler state of being.
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Deny the truth, and your continued suffering is assured.
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Even if no one else was ever to awaken again, it does not really matter.
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But that will not happen, now, will it?
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Pleasure and pain have a tendency
To draw even the most determined, indomitable gnanis
Back into the vain weavings of mortal faire.
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It has been there all the time.
It just takes a subtle, attentive, fearless mind,
To discern the truth of it.
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‘Tis but the vanity of masks and costumes.
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That called good, that called evil are merely temporal states of mind.
Whether serene or angry, all waves are ever of the same ocean.
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The world is a birthing ground, the world is a graveyard, all rolled into one.
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A world with a view.
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If your ancestors are watching, it is likely through your eyes.
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Do you spring from the universe, or the universe from you?
A bit of both, really.
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For whose greater good do you parley?
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Cravings lead us all down paths that wisdom distilled would likely never take again.
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To doubt, or not to doubt, that is the question.
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The worldwide Ponzi scheme is unraveling, as all imbalances of mind inevitably must.
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Do you choose make-believe or reality, fiction or truth?
The answer will be the thread of your life’s journey.
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Fooled you again.
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In how many ways desire twists and turns each and every one.
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Nothing changes all the time.
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Hard to know how to play that one.
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It is just sex, what is all the tripping about it?
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They into your mind, and you into theirs.
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Who sees you but those who know themselves.
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What need does a true skeptic have for hope?
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The curse of mortality lies in its definition.
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Rather than judge another,
Try becoming them, discern their world.
In that vision, can there be anything but compassion?
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You learned whatever you sought in one right-here-right-now or anther.
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The currents of thought are of the great sea, great spirit, great mind, you truly are.
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Discern the contentment of your own awareness.
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In order there is chaos, and in chaos, order.
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Kiss: Keep It Simple, Stupid.
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Answered that one your Self, eh?
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When did your world begin to coalesce?
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The banquet of nothingness is an imaginary repast.
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The penchant for passion and pleasure is hard-wired.
A most challenging fact, and not easily moderated.
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The final unifying equation, simply said: You are the indivisible, witness to all creation.
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Those yet to come will rue the Eighth Day we have all played a part in creating.
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Recollection is the greatest recreation
For those rare few ready to push on
To the indivisible stillness of eternity.
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Every moment passes the same; only the state of mind changes.
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This assertion or that; what matter, really?
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Nicely done.
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Love everyone and everything if your given nature is agape.
But for the rest of us, the challenge is to at least occasionally attempt to tolerate
The seemingly countless differences we so often find provocative.
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Judgment is harsh, and for so little real reason, especially for those invoking Self.
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There are many things
You might have done differently,
But would you be where you are, right now?
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Argue your ignorance, and you will likely win.
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Discern the perfection in every step, every action, every breath, every word.
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Curious that so few find the courage to discern and awaken to the truth within.
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Much easier to hate than to love.
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It is only life. it is only death, let it come, let it go.
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Pain and pleasure tend to teach what is really important in life.
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See each individual drop of its Self, and yet as part of the same stream.
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Let us attempt to set aright our many errors.
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No need to continue playing the part once you see you are not what you thought.
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It is you who create the stars and dust between.
You who fathom the manifest in a way no other can.
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Your perfection is not what it seems in the mirror.
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Pain steeps in imagination.
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Concoct this.
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Time to unfurl the sails.
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The power of mind and body tap into the quantum origin.
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Why would it not be possible for the indivisibility
To fashion all creation from the dust of its origin?
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Being and allowing, such a simple challenge Is set before you for all time.
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There is a world to be healed, but first, physician, you must heal thy Self.
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The essential must be true for all, else it is not the truth.
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Will you remember these fleeting perceptions tomorrow?
The day after? Or even the day after that?
Right now, ever the challenge.
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You were born with an infinite mind
That was conditioned by time and circumstance
Into the you, you think is you, but is not, never was, will never be.
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Is there anything more ludicrous, more insubstantial
Than worrying about what any Jones thinks of you?
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It is within your agape quantum presence that you will find the peace of grace.
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Steel on the inside, velvet on the outside, or is it the other way around?
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The maelstrom is underway.
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Catch up with the words.
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Necessity is not a plan.
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Your universe did not exist until you became conscious of the patterning that prevailed.
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So much to remember to forget.
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Consciousness
Is like an unstable isotope
Creating … preserving … destroying …
Simultaneously every single moment … for all time.
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The process of waking and forgetting can be very excruciating.
So challenging not to be hypnotized again and again
By the play of the senses drawing you out.
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To enjoy even the most simple things is to have achieved the highest order.
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You will take anything to the level at which you are most comfortable.
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Don’t mimic someone else; be your Self.
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Everything, so sharp, everything, so vague.
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In every time, in every space, you are.
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Learn to be amused by it, perhaps even to laugh at it, if you are able.
A fool who takes himself too seriously is less than a fool can be.
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Life, a temporal dream of consciousness, a brief flurry of imagination.
Nothingness playing out in every way upon the fumes of awareness.
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We are all nothing more than sacks of perception.
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Other than life being the mystery it is,
There has never really been a tangible point to it.
And within all of it, the amusing irony at all our vain attempts
At giving it every conceivable meaning and purpose.
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Answer me this: How is it you have never seen your face?
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Breathe in one set of moments, breathe out another … Life, ever-changing.
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Disrespect is a magnet for revenge.
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All judgment is about differences that exist in mind only.
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Light monkey, gray monkey, dark monkey; all the same monkey.
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The sins of men are many, but sin, it is nothing.
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No need to formalize that which has no form.
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Why call sex ‘making love’? ‘Making lust’ is far more accurate.
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There appear to be many mysteries, but ultimately there is only one Mystery.
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The is-was-will-ever-be of it all.
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For consciousness to be content requires great discernment.
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No mask is bound by the part it seems to portray.
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How could it be arrogant to be what you truly are.
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From an essential mind, essential things are discerned.
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Moral compass, what is that, anyway?
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As differences are to indivisibility, illusion is to reality.
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Living for likes, is there anything more hollow?
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Aging is about compensating enough to keep moving.
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Consciousness is but a subset of awareness.
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The moment you were conceived, so was death, so why worry?
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What a thing to spend existence fending off the aloneness.
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The whole of consciousness is but a quantum-neural storm playing time.
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The shoulda, the coulda, and the woulda.
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Conditioning is all.
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Is truth about you, or are you about truth?
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All your meanings, all your purposes, are but the fantasies of vanity.
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Death is disappearing without a trace.
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The dreamer is the dream; the dream is the dreamer.
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It is delusion that hurts, not truth.
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So many of the things we call pleasurable, are they really?
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Death will happen on a day just like today.
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Suspend the animation.
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What are the vanities, power and fame and fortune, but distractions
From the source of all that is mystery, all that is unknown, all that is eternal.
The impenetrable, ineffaceable, indivisible awareness that is timelessly ever-present.
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The Return to Wonder
Field Notes from the Unknown
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved