24 January 2014

Chapter 298 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CCXCVIII

Everything is straining to the breaking point.
Which part of the whole will give way first?
Or has the unraveling long since begun?
To discern the big picture requires time.

* * * *
The great stillness of awareness
Is prior to all pondering about it.

* * * *
See if you can change yourself
Before all your judgments
Demands it of others.

* * * *
What is there to save
When everything is spent
In the right nowness
Of every moment.

* * * *
What’s the opium in your den?

* * * *
Where there is me, myself and I,
There is the delusion of duality.

* * * *
All that is outside you is inside you,
And all that is inside you is outside you.
Where can one possibly begin or end
When all boundaries are imagined.

* * * *
Allow bliss to reign if you can muster it.

* * * *
The reed bends with whatever wind blows.

* * * *
It’s only cheating if you’re playing the same game.

* * * *
Seriously, onto what have you ever been able to hold?

* * * *
How can you ever convince others
That what is inside is outside, and outside, inside,
And that the truth of reality is not subject
To mere persuasion or belief.

* * * *
Those who discern their birthright can never die.

* * * *
The world will likely go on without you,
But without you to bear witness,
How far can it get, really?

* * * *
Yes, the sign really did say “Free”
And below it, “Donation Required.”

* * * *
Dead man walking.

* * * *
The gold prior to all dreams.

* * * *
Agony and ecstasy,
You will find them both in great supply
Either for as long as it suits you,
Or until death do you part.

* * * *
Imagining it all real does not make it real.

* * * *
Try to change your fate, your destiny as you will,
That is only the direction it was headed, anyway.

* * * *
So many distractions to draw you again and again
From what you really are, have ever been, will ever be.

* * * *
How can anyone be dead if no one was ever born?
A quantum dream is a quantum dream,
Nothing more, nothing less.

* * * *
There is no order to anything at any level but chaos.

* * * *
The news swings through the jungle
On the vine of one tragedy, one plague,
One crisis, one war, one outrage or another.

* * * *
There is nothing on which to hold.
The clear, empty space of awareness
Is without any bounds,
Space and time,
Without any meaning.

* * * *
Awareness is immortal.
Awareness is godness.
Awareness is youness.

* * * *
Another now that never was.

* * * *
The immeasurability of truth’s infinity
Is unassailable by the limitations of mortality.
One must give over to the immortal nature
To even begin fathom the immensity
Prior to all manifest proportion.

* * * *
How you perceive something you hear or see,
May or may not be the way it was intended.
Making assumptions or taking things personally
Is a surefire way to get all lathered up over nothing.

* * * *
To forget everything is too simple for words to more than briefly reveal.

* * * *
To judge others is ultimately to judge your own imaginary creation.

* * * *
You would think it would be more than a little embarrassing
To be that intolerably mean, greedy and self-absorbed.

* * * *
What you are, truly, is awareness.
Life is but a temporal, dreamy mirage,
The fleeting enchantment of imagination.
Only consciousness is born,
Only consciousness dies.

* * * *
You posing pretender, you.
Yeah, I’m talking to you.
You know who you are.

* * * *
Even the strongest
Become frail and weak
In the winds of time.

* * * *
That’s it.
That’s all there is.
Nothing.

* * * *
Ain’t sayin’ nuthing, t’all.

* * * *
Sometimes an ending is a beginning,
And in others a beginning is an ending.
The only difference, imagination’s framing.

* * * *
There is no other, you are totally alone.
The world offers every form of distraction,
But it is no more than a kaleidoscoping illusion,
No matter how much you wish to believe it otherwise.
Face the fact, and dive into eternal life.

* * * *
Reality is likely not anything intelligible to human bullshit.

* * * *
So many trying to measure that which has no measure.

* * * *
Every rut just another variation of the same vanity.

* * * *
All is pointless in the most essential sense.

* * * *
You are the Way, the Truth, the Life.
No brag, just fact.

* * * *
Nothing keeps on happening.

* * * *
In the beginning, in the end,
And everything between,
All a string of moments
Exactly like this one.

* * * *
How surreal it all becomes.

* * * *
Become the void you are,
Have ever been, will ever be.
No matter how great your vanity,
It cannot fill what can never be filled.

* * * *
It is a curious thing how desperate so many are
For that for which mortality provides no access.

* * * *
How desperate so many are to prove, to assert
Something that was given long before their creation.

* * * *
Funny you should ask that, there being no coincidence.

* * * *
Do you really need that?
Chance are more than a little likely,
If you step back a bit or two, that you really don’t.

* * * *
Endlessly seeking the sanction of others
Is such a desolate way to play out one’s dream.

* * * *
Don’t have to travel far to travel within.

* * * *
Get your bearing straight and clear.

* * * *
Home at last.

* * * *
Yet another betrayal
In the unfolding dreamtime
Of this spinning orb.
So it goes.

* * * *
Better to live well than long,
Though enduring both might be tolerable,
Should the dream allow it, that is.

* * * *
What kind of world would it, could it, might it be
If everyone was honest and true?
Heaven on earth.
Yeah, right, and of what use
Are such notoriously idealistic notions?

* * * *
Why should a dreamer care about anything?
Light or dark, right or wrong, white or black, yes or no,
Good or bad, truth or lie, birth or death,
All the same, all the same.

* * * *
From the unfathomable awareness, consciousness is born,
And from that mystery is molded this identity or that.
Only the absoluteness of awareness is real.
The rest is the delusion of illusion.

* * * *
You are not, have never been, nor will you ever be
Bound by any form or any identity.
You are the vital force,
Eternal, immortal, absolute, free.

* * * *
It is the attachment to all these sensations,
And the desire which imagination
Endlessly fathoms,
That creates all this suffering.

* * * *
But, but, but, what if you’re wrong?


Nah!

* * * *
You are Brahman,
Come to play the play.
Thank you, Great Mother.

* * * *
What arrogance, what absurdity,
To think, to pretend, to believe,
We are separate from any of it.
Surely, not even god is that vain.

* * * *
Tomorrow, and the eons yet to materialize,
Will be the same dreamy nowness as was today,
As was yesterday, and the eons before that.

* * * *
Why should you ever be afraid?
No, really, why should you be afraid?
Only the container suffers; you are immortal.

* * * *
Yours are but one set of the all-seeing eyes.

* * * *
Though it really no more than a dream,
You do, at least some of the time,
Enjoy playing along, don’t you?

* * * *
How long is a day, really?

* * * *
Hold nothing in mind.

* * * *
Heal it.

* * * *
How grueling it must be
To spend one’s entire life
Making so much of so little.

* * * *
Everyone is indeed replaceable.

* * * *
An advocate for all creatures great and small.

* * * *
There is really nothing to explain, justify or prove.
The nature of the mystery is beyond all validation.

* * * *
Discern this eternal truth and you will be the peace that is.

* * * *
Would that we could just stop thoroughly abusing each other
Long enough to get along for even just the briefest of a tiny while.

* * * *
One distraction after another, to what end, really?

* * * *
Cockroaches are the true rulers of the world.
Bow to the flexibility and resiliency
Of their genetic blueprint.

* * * *
To all of Eden’s creatures great and small,
Being treated humanely is, indeed,
A most frightening concept.

* * * *
The awareness of godness is the ground
From which all manifestation dreams.

* * * *
You cannot force what will not happen.
Nor can you elude what will.
Fate will out.

* * * *
Quibbling over this delusion or that
Does not for truth make.

* * * *
You’ve got to be somewhere.
It may as well be here now.

* * * *
Dead soul walking.

* * * *
Madness, absolute madness.

* * * *
You have never really been this body.
Imagination can be such a loose cannon.

* * * *
It is all very coherent in some very few minds.

* * * *
All movement of mind dances with the delusion of illusion.

* * * *
Biology, chemistry, physics; all just different ways of looking at the same nada.

* * * *
Popcorn does not pop in unison, and some kernels not at all.

* * * *
Hard to miss what you don’t know.

* * * *
Nothing is the pointless.

* * * *
Is time really worth anything?

* * * *
Those who speak do not know.
Those who know do not speak.

* * * *
Anything only means
Whatever you assume it means,
Nothing all the while.

* * * *
The full measure is immeasurable.

* * * *
You are but a brief caster of shadows.

* * * *
What does one do with a mind
Already so full of agony and ecstasy?
Keep stuffing in more until you eventually pop?
Or put a finger down the throat,
And just puke it all?

* * * *
What happens after the dust settles?
Now, that will be a very interesting time to watch.
Yes, indeedy, what will happen to this theater of consciousness
Once the many paradigms have crashed and burned?
Will we evolve, or merely drone on as before?


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