21 October 2013

Chapter 279 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CCLXXIX

What on earth will we do with ourselves
After all there is to rape has been raped?
After all there is to pillage has been pillaged?

* * * *
Every mind caught in the web of one vanity or another.

* * * *
To discern that it is all god, godness, whatever.
What’s so crazy about that?

* * * *
Time will do what it is bid to do.

* * * *
This is all so fucking absurd.

* * * *
Healthy, vibrant community
Is about serving your best interest,
As well as those about you,
At the same time.

* * * *
You were not, you are not, you need not care.

* * * *
Why is what others think of you of any concern at all?

* * * *
Get past the notion
That good and bad, right and wrong,
Any dualistic notion, whatsoever, are really all that different.

* * * *
Well, that is what seems obvious from this reckoning, anyway.

* * * *
Yup, I’m laughing at you, too, so I guess we’re even.

* * * *
No need to keep offending your nose.

* * * *
Why should you believe anything
Your own vision doesn’t discern true?

* * * *
Unless you seek the truth,
You will discern the delusion
To which you are most inclined.

* * * *
It matters less where you are
Than the a-whereness
In which you are.

* * * *
Be done with it.

* * * *
Control your anger.
Conquer your fear.

* * * *
Human-unkind, you mean.

* * * *
Discern the consciousness
That belongs to everyone and no one.

* * * *
Nowness knows neither future nor past.
It is the portal to the eternal reality.

* * * *
Within all there is the eternal potential,
The portal, to discern the ever-presence.

* * * *
Thinking about nothing is indeed arduous work.

* * * *
Remember who you are, forget who you are not.

* * * *
Curious, very curious indeed,
That so many cannot hear the good news.
How is it that they cannot bear
To see the truth of it?
Too simple for words, perhaps.

* * * *
From the depths of sleep
To the first breath of this day,
Self wakens once again to witness
This temporal facet of genesis.

* * * *
Good news, bad news,
Who can say?

* * * *
Another nebulous
The Way It Is.

* * * *
Rejoice in the aloneness.

* * * *
Am I talking about you?
Or am I talking about me?
The same, you see.

* * * *
The wisdom of age
Is meager compensation
For a strong back and hard cock.

* * * *
Whose religion is the universal,
And the infinity into which it breaches.

* * * *
So many people are merely aware
Or concerned about their own little corner;
Unaware of the big picture, and where it’s headed.

* * * *
Probably shouldn’t bother saying all this, but I just can’t help my Self

* * * *
The past entices those who bother about it.

* * * *
Just another bit player in El Teatro Grande.

* * * *
In whatever you do, please your Self.

* * * *
All your vain so-called holy sites
Mean nothing to That I Am,
Make it yours.

* * * *
A ministry of one.

* * * *
It could have been done
So much better than this.

* * * *
Backwards and forwards.
Forwards and backwards.

* * * *
“Next batch, maybe I’ll get it right,”
Sighed the big guy.

* * * *
Alas, like it or not, you are part of it.

* * * *
You just have to discern the obvious,
And then enable the courage
To face your fear.

* * * *
How can you not enjoy learning
About your version of this mystery?

* * * *
A life of Self-reflection is a life well-spent.

* * * *
Despite all our vanities and inanities,
The playing field is ultimately quite level.

* * * *
Do what it pleases you to do
With an inner eye that watches all.

* * * *
Which which is which,
And which which is not.

* * * *
Probably something to do
With the lack of oxygen,
Or maybe too much.

* * * *
Every moment the same for all
But for the dream of time in mind.

* * * *
It’s out there doing
Whatever the vain whims
Of manifest consciousness chooses
In its endgame sliver of time.

* * * *
The sandbox is, indeed, quite a mess.
What will the future do with it?
Oneness wonders.

* * * *
Another message in the bottle, so to speak,
For time to sort out however it will, or will not.

* * * *
Drift on, brothers and sisters of the sun, drift on.

* * * *
Do whatever it is you need to do to move on.
If you get stuck, then you needed to get stuck,
If not, well let the river take you wherever it will.

* * * *
Obligation is a poor reason to do anything,
But then again, in the course of human events,
Pragmatic necessity inevitably overrides
The dalliance personal preference

* * * *
If it’s your time to wake up, it’s your time.
Alas, nothing you can really do to stop it.

* * * *
Declare your sovereignty unto your Self.

* * * *
How can you save your Self
When there’s nothing to save.

* * * *
Do whatever calls you
In whatever time you have left.
Uncork the flowingness.

* * * *
More egalitarian silliness.

* * * *
Discern it.

* * * *
Nothing to idolize
Once you have discerned
The hologram of all creation within.

* * * *
What is any given universe,
But every possibility that physics,
The rules of the game board, will allow.

* * * *
Look, you’re going to die someday, we all are
The only question is whether you will be content
With the life you’ve been given the wonder to live.

* * * *
What can you possibly want from something
Than can never be more than a brief dream?

* * * *
And when the applause dies down,
There you are again, very much alone.

* * * *
Whatever context the moment offers,
Always seek out the largest view.

* * * *
What’s the rush?
What is there to get back to
All the now, anyway?

* * * *
There,
In the midst of all claims,
You see nothing.

* * * *
Religious agendas
Inspired by time and space
Are Self-defeating.

* * * *
Just be your Self.
So simple.
Hah!

* * * *
Fare thee well
To those capable of discerning
That I am.

* * * *
What it is, is really neither male nor female.
The reality prior to mind is without name or form
It is what it is, what it has ever been, what it will ever be.

* * * *
Detachment can be a challenging state of mind to muster.

* * * *
What you think of your Self is all that really matters.

* * * *
No matter the dream, no matter the form,
It’s always been you, and you alone.

* * * *
Do not use your words against your Self.

* * * *
The zigs and zags of the time in mind
Distort its seamless, eternal reality.

* * * *
The real wonder
Is that we survive our creation
As well as we do.
So far.

* * * *
It’s pointless,
And that’s the point.
Back to the centered un-center.

* * * *
It has taken care of its Self, so far.

* * * *
It is too late to save the planet that was.
The challenge is to preserve what’s left.

* * * *
Check all your wants,
And in stillness discern the freedom
To journey alone, far and wide, within and without.

* * * *
The forebrain is the inner eye,
The resting point of conscious awareness,
The stillpoint, the origin, the genesis of all manifest creation.

* * * *
Your mind-body is the vehicle,
The church in which you may examine and play out
Whatever dreamtime you will.

* * * *
Every geography offers its own teaching.

* * * *
All the friends, all the loves,
All the innumerable acquaintances,
Even those you count as enemy
Who do you really know?

* * * *
The art of the comma,
And its pausing nature,
Is subtle play, indeed.

* * * *
Every reason to hate,
One to love.

* * * *
I witness you.
Whether or not you witness me
Is of no concern.

* * * *
Existence.
So much drama, so much bother.
And for what, really?

* * * *
Contentment
Is a most challenging state of mind
To which to surrender.

* * * *
Seek not wisdom where fools reign.

* * * *
Where were you before the dream was you?

* * * *
Live and learn, die anyway.
But where do all the answers go when the body-mind,
Which so needed or yearned for them,
Is no longer corporal?

* * * *
Regarding the bliss of ignorance,
You don’t miss what you don’t know.

* * * *
Life can be amazingly exhilarating.
Life can be amazingly tiring.
Irony at every turn.

* * * *
You get what you breed.
No prejudice intended.
Just a statement of fact.

* * * *
I am, you are, we all are
That I Am.

* * * *
Ignorance.
Break the addiction.

* * * *
It is That about which I Am.

* * * *
You don’t fight Mother Nature,
You work with her.

* * * *
Every moment, death hovers a bit closer.

* * * *
Nothing in any given mind but the mishmash of imagination.

* * * *
Be grateful that I do not have the power of some ancient, wrathful god,
For the flood this mind imagines would make Noah’s seem but a puddle.


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