CCXCIII
We all abide the same aloneness, the same solitude,
From which most scurry in every way imaginable.
* * * *
Hold the mind as still as a stone in your hand,
And discern clearly where tranquility abides.
* * * *
Awareness takes on all comers.
How can any stand for even a moment
Without the ground underfoot?
* * * *
If it is, so what?
If it is not, so what?
* * * *
Nature plays no politics; it can never be obsolete.
Those who disregard its laws do so at their own peril.
* * * *
Consciousness does not for reality make.
* * * *
Dogma is far more enticing than truth.
Attributes are more perceivable than the indivisibility
Of that which the nothingness sustains.
* * * *
You cannot contain that which has no boundaries.
* * * *
What is there to prove or disprove when you are source of all?
* * * *
Who is master, and who is slave, and for how long?
* * * *
Some are born peasants with the soul of a king.
Some are born kings with the soul of a peasant.
So it goes.
* * * *
Take it or leave it; it does not really matter.
It is your show to do with whatever you will.
* * * *
Every niche has its patterning, a widget humming away in its own little context.
* * * *
Why run when you can mosey.
* * * *
Ignorance and foolishness are as born of the same source as knowledge and wisdom.
* * * *
Hope and faith are monkey-mind gorp,
Pointless from their inception.
Why believe anything?
* * * *
It is only limitations that define you.
The ultimate You is without attributes.
* * * *
The whole knowing thing is so overdone.
* * * *
The thin air of mountaintops and ivory towers
No doubt adds to the intoxication of surreal vistas.
* * * *
Time to advance to a higher level of thinking, folks.
Probably too late, but you never know
What it might lead to.
* * * *
Like a cat with a mouse, gravity toys with all until the dust settles.
* * * *
Muster as much kindness as you can bear.
* * * *
Counting down … tick … tick … tick …
* * * *
All memories, recent or otherwise, abide in the same imaginary wake.
* * * *
Seeds sprout, flowers wither.
* * * *
‘Tis but a dream, attachment to which only enhances the pain.
* * * *
Imitation is in the eye of the beholder.
* * * *
Universes are created and destroyed
In less than the blink of an eye,
And in just one breath,
How many more.
* * * *
Forces set upon each other by arbitrary constraints.
* * * *
Pandering to the monkey-mind does not for solutions make.
* * * *
We all gaze into the faces of others, facelessly dreaming our own real.
* * * *
For anyone who runs out of agenda, what else is there to do
But return to the inviolability of the beingness,
That which is godness within.
* * * *
How many memories will it take for you to be content?
* * * *
The mind-body is engaging until it is not.
The world is engaging until it is not.
The universe is engaging
Until it is not.
* * * *
Now is a challenging place for the busy mind to hang.
* * * *
You cannot save a dream.
* * * *
Time, that thing which does not exist, which passes so very quickly.
* * * *
Seemed like free will at the time.
* * * *
Thoughts, whether pleasing or troubled, are but ripples across a stone’s face.
* * * *
Another day, another round of experiencing
In a life already chock-full of so many dreams.
* * * *
Everybody holding fast to the mirage of imagination.
* * * *
A lifetime in the blink of any eye, and only memories to pretend it ever happened.
* * * *
What need to worship That which you are, have ever been, and will ever be.
* * * *
Life is painful, but it does not have to be right now.
* * * *
Doubt is the eternal key to getting home.
Doubt everything, doubt everybody
To the depth of your being.
* * * *
Some things must steep awhile in a contemplative swirl
Before they become palatable to the ever-resistant multitude.
* * * *
Die to what you are not, have never been, will never be.
* * * *
So very much alone.
* * * *
It is when you stand up that you discern whether or not you have reached your limit.
* * * *
Delusion is the comfort zone
Of those who cannot face the truth.
Sanity resides in that prior to all thought.
* * * *
When that end does inevitably arrive,
Will you go out weeping, screaming, clawing,
Or lunge into it whole-heartedly, mindlessly untamed?
* * * *
There are no followers in the assembly of the transcendent unknown.
All tend to evaporate once the actuality of truth becomes apparent.
* * * *
Whether it is a one-time life or a string of lives,
In the ultimate picture, you are the source of all.
* * * *
So many with so much, with so little gratitude.
* * * *
You really believe any deity is separate from you?
How is that even possible in the indivisibility of it all?
* * * *
The fruits of all labor are as nothing.
* * * *
Let it all go; immaculate virtuousness can be reborn.
* * * *
Pay attention.
Enjoy it as ye may.
Time passes very quickly.
It always begins anew right now.
* * * *
Speculation does not for truth make.
* * * *
You need not justify anything to anyone.
* * * *
If you only had this moment,
And not even one smidgen of memory,
What on earth would you, could you, be doing?
* * * *
Be that momentary awareness within the womb of existence.
* * * *
To assert a dogmatic belief in some deitiy
Is to miss experiencing reality for your Self.
* * * *
Is there anything but vanity?
* * * *
Truth is not something at which all marvel.
* * * *
Reality is for those who lack imagination.
* * * *
Even things perceived identical are not, have never been, will never be.
* * * *
Your true wealth is immeasurable.
* * * *
Discern the real you that even prior to conception has ever been the same.
* * * *
Language shapes you, confines you, deceives you, into believing it all real.
* * * *
All that matters is what works.
* * * *
God is the invention of ignorance.
* * * *
Yet another arbitrary day born of mind.
* * * *
Every flowing instant
Is the big bang of consciousness,
The genesis of awareness, the eternal mystery.
* * * *
Awareness is the stage upon which the set is built.
* * * *
You owned it all relatively effortless as a child.
The challenge is to discern that mind, and own it again.
To be the streaming awareness you, before time, so freely were.
* * * *
Another monkey ensnared in the tribal mind.
* * * *
Assuming any opinion really matters, any really has meaning.
Yours is as valid as anyone’s, anyone’s is as valid as yours.
* * * *
You might call the mystery black, and I, white,
But that has never meant we are forced
To scorn, hate, or kill one another.
* * * *
Everything in the wake before you know it; awareness ever streaming on, unstoppable.
* * * *
We are all within and without each other.
* * * *
So many things you might have done differently.
Oh well, so it goes.
* * * *
If nothing could be counted, how would it be immeasurable?
* * * *
Holding onto things that cannot be held onto is rather awkward,
Especially once the ungraspable nothing is firmly in your grasp.
* * * *
The quest for excellence is too high a bar
For those who have little thirst for quality.
* * * *
Wealth and power and renown are the means to do many things
None of which are required for happiness and contentment to flower.
* * * *
The path of the monkey-mind is an invention of the pathless no-mind.
* * * *
So much quibbling over nothing.
* * * *
As meaningless and purposeless as it is to say it, you are the meaning and purpose.
* * * *
You have somehow managed to resist
Dispatching some who more than deserve it.
Is that what they mean when they say
You should love your enemies?
* * * *
The herd must have its many fads.
* * * *
It is all you, it is all me, dream on.
* * * *
Some wisdom is practical; some wisdom is not.
* * * *
Impulse control switch, off.
Impulse control switch, on.
* * * *
Always trying to prove something that does not need proving even if it could be.
* * * *
You need not, you cannot, do anything to become
What you are, have always been, will ever be.
* * * *
How upset we can become when we fail to meet our own contrived expectations.
* * * *
Why leave any teachings up to the potentially
Error-filled translations of oral traditions,
When so many online conduits are now available
For anyone to delve into full Monty versions for themselves.
* * * *
Yes, Virginia, there is a supreme being,
And you are in no way, shape or form, separate from it.
Which means, of course, that you are it, have ever been it, will ever be it.
* * * *
The ether of each unborn-undying, indivisible moment sustains the next,
The stream of consciousness is the mortar that binds all in imaginary notion.
* * * *
Any salesman who might have claimed existence would be no-big-deal easy
Was lying through his teeth as some many are wont to do.
Always pays to read the fine print.
* * * *
Mediocrity wins yet again.
* * * *
Seek remedy within.
* * * *
So many meaningless games: ceaseless, unrelenting, merciless.
* * * *
Are you truly the body to which you are so attached,
And how is it you came to without doubt believe it so?
* * * *
How much more of this manifest dreamtime do you need or want to experience, really?
* * * *
Nobody knows.
* * * *
Everything else is self-serving absurdity.
* * * *
Is that something you really need to know?
* * * *
No need to apologize more than once, if at all.
* * * *
Sometimes too weary to continue, yet still you carry on.
* * * *
Just primates in boots and heels.
* * * *
Want everything, want nothing, is there any difference, really?
* * * *
Fools tarry in the world.
* * * *
It all means everything, it all means nothing.
* * * *
Another drop of Soul haunted by the many voices playing out in mind’s mortal theater.
* * * *
Attain the immeasurable richness of the complete and utter simplicity within.
* * * *
Explore everything anew every moment possible.
* * * *
And Atlas tossed the world of mind into a new orbit.
* * * *
So much gibberish, none of it truly important.
* * * *
Same old, same old, for the very first time.
* * * *
See ye the true reality of all things
Great and small and otherwise?
Or the same old blah-blah-blah?
(a.k.a. nonsense, absurdity, rubbish,
Drivel, doubletalk, bunk, hogwash, twaddle,
Hot air, boasting, bragging, baloney, lies, malarkey,
Bravado, blather, swagger, talk, and gibberish ad infinitum).
* * * * * * * * * *
The Return to Wonder
Field Notes from the Unknown
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved