15 October 2013

Chapter 267 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CCLXVII

Everything is indivisibly connected at the quantum level,
And it is in that very still, momentary awareness,
That those rare few who earnestly quest
Will discern that essence, which many call God,
Or Brahman, or Tao, or Yahweh, or Allah, or Great Spirit,
Or whatever other sound it has been given, or will someday be given.

* * * *
As transitory as the present moment is,
This singular now is the only point at which
The wheel of consciousness touches the road,
Generating the illusion of time and space.

* * * *
All forms are immaterial.
An inescapable fact,
As indivisible
As a nose on any face.

* * * *
Some very intelligent people
Can make very stupid assumptions,
And, ironically, some very stupid people
Can make some very intelligent assumptions.
Who’s the sage and who’s the fool,
Roles often reversed.

* * * *
The mirages of godness are too many
To even more than ponder counting.

* * * *
Kind of like floating with eyes shut
In the deep end of a very large pool.

* * * *
If you didn’t have the many voices of others corrupting your mind,
You would rely on your own observation to discern the truth.
The ultimate reality is not about any individual or group.
It is, has ever been, and will ever be the real you.

* * * *
Organized religion is much like many comfort foods.
It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy and nice,
But in reality, may not be all that nutritious,
And maybe even more than a little toxic.

* * * *
Godness created this garden world.
It is humankind that has often fashioned it
Into one hellish extreme or another.

* * * *
In the grand infinity,
A floating particle of dust
Is just as real as you.

* * * *
Kin to all.

* * * *
Pink poof.

* * * *
Gold comes in every color, shape and size.

* * * *
What you call good or evil
Is merely the comfort zone
Of your given day-to-day.

* * * *
More babblespeak.

* * * *
Every streaming timeless moment,
The universe perceived by the senses
Is hungrily consumed by the mind.

* * * *
All forms are relative to every other,
Until you work your way down to the absoluteness,
That which is called god by countless names,
Of which all forms, including you, are.

* * * *
Humankind cannot forever disregard the world’s natural rhythms
Which it has managed to so adroitly manipulate
In so many countless ways.

* * * *
It has been pleasant being in the world
Before it became stagnant and inhospitable.
Condolences to those who will never experience
Clean water and air, and lands and oceans full of life.
Would that humankind could have trekked a wiser course.

* * * *
If you inquire for your Self what is written herein,
You will find it real and true from beginning to end.

* * * *
The Way is rocky, pitted and steep
For the explorers who have yet to discern
The ultimate is as effortless as a morning breeze.

* * * *
Doubt until there is no doubt to be had.

* * * *
Quixotic tilting with absurdity
Is an absurdity in its own right.

* * * *
Ironic how rarely a capacity is appreciated
So much as when one’s fate steals it away.

* * * *
The fingerprint of godness is equally in all creation.

* * * *
Vain disputes that reality is this way or that
Are meaningless distractions from the awareness
Of the eternal nature in all manifestation great and small.

* * * *
Hurricanes, earthquakes, tornados, volcanoes, tsunamis,
Cosmic storms, and other dynamic forces of nature,
Are but fleeting facets of your ultimate nature.

* * * *
Another thing that cannot be explained
To those not yet able to clearly see
That which is the only reality.

* * * *
It is really much less about evil,
Than it is twisted consciousness.

* * * *
What do you really care about,
But one vain ephemeral notion or another.

* * * *
At the core of all ideas,
All fabrications, all dreams great and small,
Is the Great Nada.

* * * *
Is the physical body
Really any more
Than a mobile vat of goo,
Hamburger just waiting to happen.

* * * *
Same clay, a different day, a different play.

* * * *
That which is without identity is the real you.

* * * *
You are the question.
You are the answer.

* * * *
Nothing changes your world.

* * * *
All Romes fall.

* * * *
One moment it’s there, the next it’s gone.
Eternity is such a capricious temptress.

* * * *
As if doing more really means anything.

* * * *
So alone as to be That I Am.

* * * *
Maybe someday.

* * * *
You say you want a revolution,
But are you really ready
To lose everything?

* * * *
Those who accept gifts
Should learn not to expect them.
Entitlement is a cancer of consciousness.

* * * *
More jewels for the crown.

* * * *
Just another sensory preoccupation.

* * * *
When you are the singularity,
What bounds can there possibly be?

* * * *
You cannot expect or hope from space-time
What it can never, has never, will never be.

* * * *
If the truth be told, realize
A gusting wind or willful gnat
Likely has as much to say.

* * * *
Now is the only now
In which there can be any accountability,
And it is so quickly here and gone.

* * * *
The collusion of continuity maintains the human condition.
Everyone pretends they’re the same person they were way back when.
How challenging to discern everything dies every moment,
And it is only the concoctions of consciousness
That keep the mortal game afoot.

* * * *
It is through the sensory weaving
Of the given heredity, the given environment,
That the untarnished consciousness of any given newborn
Is channeled into the movement of dualistic notion.
Call it original sin, or whatever else you will,
But, in truth, it is merely the beginning
Of a lifelong, time-bound struggle
Through the relentless blend
Of one pleasure or pain,
One agony or ecstasy, or another.

* * * *
Just another form disguising the same you.

* * * *
Another scam to which so many naively subscribe.

* * * *
El Nada Grandes.
El Nada Pequeños.

* * * *
The church of mind is a portal to immortality.

* * * *
Get it straight, my fine pretty,
Your shit ain’t no sweeter
Than anyone else’s,
And your pee
Ain’t nectar, neither.

* * * *
Across all space, across all time, this same truth applies:
Though there may be a gazillion names for godness
Or a gazillion worlds as abundant as this one,
There is, never was, and never will be, any other.

* * * *
If there is plagiarism in this lengthy soliloquy,
Consider it an intentional, if misguided act,
Only done to aid in amplifying the original work.

* * * *
Any given life form abides in an imaginary universe
Concocted by whatever sensory perceptions its given attributes
Have managed to retain in its central processing unit.

* * * *
Quantum circumstance.

* * * *
Everything is forgotten sooner or later.

* * * *
Forget your self,
Remember your Self.

* * * *
Imagination soars in ecstasy,
Imagination plummets in agony.
Bravo, bravo, Maestro.
Alas, alas, Fool.

* * * *
C’est la vie,
So it goes,
Oh well,
Deal with it.

* * * *
“Without history, we are nothing,”
A friend long ago said.
And now, I would say to him,
“Even with history, we are nothing.”

* * * *
How vain to imagine you are anything but That I Am.

* * * *
Attempting to express in words what words can never tell.

* * * *
Is being born good fortune, or harsh calamity?
Which way is the wind blowing
This fine day?

* * * *
You are the abyss wandering in dreamtime.

* * * *
Postponing the inevitable
Only rarely solves a problem.

* * * *
The garden is just fine.
It will abide any given change.
It is our kind who is out of compliance
With the rules of the game.

* * * *
The Soul is not bound by any attribute.
All forms are temporal, and thus only significant
For a relatively brief, imaginary duration.

* * * *
Like a pebble thrown into a still pond,
The original stillness is disrupted
When the winds of time
Ripple to and fro
Within an innocent mind.

* * * *
I witness you, and you witness me.
We all witness one another,
Most too blind to see
The same One
In each and every other.

* * * *
No tradition, no ritual, no dogma is required.
Truth can be seen without any language, culture or creed.
Even the notion of time is not a requirement
To clearly discern what it is.

* * * *
The human species has done what any species would do,
Given all but unlimited space and resources.
How far will we stretch our inanity?
How much is left, the answer.

* * * *
Every then until now, every now until then,
Every now in any given reflection ever reflected,
Every now that has ever manifested in any given when,
Is all you.

* * * *
The only difference between you and a river,
Is that it flows, and you in mind, stop and go.

* * * *
Eternity is an infinite chasm
Through which space-time in mind
Is immaculately drawn.

* * * *
Will begets all pleasures and pains.
Will discerns the eternal origin.
Heaven, hell or purgatory between,
The dualistic notions of intelligent design.

* * * *
Another vampire wandering its inner desolation
Looking for a vein upon which to feed its darkness.

* * * *
What a magnificent garden this world must have been
Before all the fences, wires, roads, sprawl
And mayhem struck out of Africa.
What aliens we are
To the world that birthed us.

* * * *
It had to be very big, it had to be very small
For all this to come to pass.
But if it entertains you to call it a plan,
You may miss the reality of spontaneous combustion.

* * * *
The names of all manifest things are but empty, temporal sounds,
No more than waves crashing one after another,
Endlessly ebbing and flowing
On the infinite, immortal shores of eternity.

* * * *
We project forward
Through rose-colored glasses
What memory so persistently assumes
Peering back through the fog of vain perception.

* * * *
There is ultimately no such thing as evil.
What we call evil is merely extreme self-absorption:
Pride, anger, lack of empathy, desolation,
The insatiable craving for more,
And the ignorance,
The denial
Of the vast web,
The absolute indivisibility
Of all manifestation great and small.

* * * *
Curious how, for the pleasure of the senses,
We voluntarily contaminate the air, water and ground
With countless deadly toxins and impurities
That cannot help but be absorbed
By these frail, tentative,
Mortal containers
In which all life must abide.

* * * *
The great indivisibility plays no favorites.

* * * *
You are godness playing hide and seek with your Self.
Home base is not so far as you think.
Ollie-ollie-oxen-free!

* * * *
Beneath the open mask of any newborn,
The untainted awareness, the untrammeled road,
The uncarved block, the tabula rasa, the stillness of eternity.


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