29 January 2014

Chapter 299 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CCXCIX

Humankind must discern its origin of its own accord.
No matter that you see you are its source,
The manifest theater will play out
Of its own free will.

* * * *
So many things given so much weight,
That in reality have had none
From day one.

* * * *
The ephemeral is, without bounds.

* * * *
Arguments between dogmas
Is like watching poodles
Pee on each other.

* * * *
Who is your best friend,
Your greatest lover,
But the essence
You truly are.

* * * *
Rapture is being truly naught.

* * * *
What irony that so many pay so much
To advertise so many chosen brands,
Whether quality sustains them or not.

* * * *
If it is your calling, yours will end up a life undying.

* * * *
You are slowly awakening from a very deep hypnotic trance.

* * * *
Conscious breathing helps keep the passionate mind on an even keel.

* * * *
Addicted to pleasure, addicted to pain, what difference, really?

* * * *
The sensory dreaming draws you back in day after day.
Hypnotic, mesmerizing, enticing, binding,
Imagination’s weaving is.

* * * *
Acute observation dissolves the observer.
It is imagination that exists,
Not you.

* * * *
Possession is nine tenths of nothing.

* * * *
This dream hath no parallel.

* * * *
Fate is as fate does.

* * * *
How in god’s name
Did some genetic lines
Get so far being so witless?

* * * *
A GPS unit can’t get you home, sorry.

* * * *
Yet another anthropological field day underway.

* * * *
The reality of these meat machines comes to light in any toilet.

* * * *
Consumption’s equable adversaries are happiness and contentment.

* * * *
Shivahood is a role to which many are called, but few are chosen.

* * * *
History is written upon the untold tales of many a harsh fate.

* * * *
Any belief about truth
Pales in the light of experiencing truth.
That which is truth is neither attached to, nor bound by,
Any thought concocted by any mind.

* * * *
And what do you take from, and what do you give to
This measureless universe, this dreamtime world
Perceived in the reflections of imagination?

* * * *
How can the observer not be the observed?
The false identity born of imagination
Is the creator of all duplicity.

* * * *
What isn’t recognized isn’t remembered.

* * * *
Such a robust manifest stage
Upon which all things great and small
Equally rise, struggle and fall.

* * * *
In the annals of time,
Many so-called advances
Often become either barbaric
Or patently absurd.

* * * *
Don’t think about it so much, just do it.

* * * *
When a need is not present,
Disengage the problem-solving mind,
Before it begins to generate the unsolvable kind.

* * * *
You have never really, truly existed
Except in imagination’s endless concoctions.
Awareness is all you really are, have ever been, will ever be.

* * * *
So many speak so surely of so many things
That can never be more than known.

* * * *
Within eternity’s grace, creation brews.

* * * *
In that which is mortally immortal,
You are as imperfectly perfect,
And as fallibly infallible
As the creation around you.

* * * *
Why not go mad?
Surely, you are alone enough
To give it a whirl.

* * * *
Smoke and mirrors,
Mirror of smoke.

* * * *
Be ye follower?
Or conscious witness?

* * * *
I got mine.
Now, sally forth, brave Soul,
And discern your own.

* * * *
The rules of any game
Are all arbitrary concoctions.

* * * *
Scarcity makes for many adversaries.

* * * *
Every individual drop formed of the mystery’s nectar
Experiences a unique universe woven of its given nature and nurture,
And whatever blend of foolishness and wisdom it inspires.

* * * *
As much as there is to know, there is so much more
That will never be vaguely imagined,
Much less known.

* * * *
Another of God’s many afterthoughts.

* * * *
Ye gods, the things we must do
To appease one another’s vanity.

* * * *
You and godness
Are very much present
In the same ephemeral nowness,
The same singularity.

* * * *
Mediocrity will out.

* * * *
This is your life.
To what end?

* * * *
Worry, dread, fear
Are the mind-killers
That bind you in time.

* * * *
All faces blend into one.

* * * *
Just another avenue for mischief
Of one sort or another.

* * * *
The immeasurable nature of infinity
Is beyond the bounds of imagination.

* * * *
Through me, conscious witness,
All things are created, preserved and destroyed.
Nothing is forever.

* * * *
You are truly as young as the day you were born.
The only challenge to seeing it clearly
Is this imaginary universe,
This sensory play,
So difficult to disregard.

* * * *
Humankind surely has much greater potential
Than the low bar to which mediocrity aspires.

* * * *
Contentment is like wisdom.
It must be discerned the same way
A sword is thrust into the flame many times
Before it acquires its true edge.

* * * *
To really, really, really not care,
What is that, anyway?

* * * *
Change is truth.
Change is not truth.

* * * *
And what to do
When you truly discern
It is all just imagination inspired
By the mind and senses?

* * * *
Enough of this bother.
Have you not suffered enough,
And for what, really, but absolutely nothing?

* * * *
Is it too much to ask for leadership
That is intelligent, just, equitable, rational, intuitive,
Steadfast, egalitarian and reasonable?

* * * *
The mantra for this day:  I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care …

* * * *
As infinitely, profoundly immortal as you truly are within,
Locked within this time-bound, worldly vessel,
You are bound by its mortal limits.
Bon voyage, matey.

* * * *
Where’s the “off” switch to this holodeck, anyway?

* * * *
Just playing along with the unfolding show,
Knowing it no more than a dream,
Touchy-feely as it may be.

* * * *
Truth is drawn out of those who have
The courage and insight to doubt.

* * * *
To suffer the vanities of ignorance
And its predictable corruptions
Is, indeed, challenging fare.

* * * *
A momentary, experiential state
Which transcends all notions.

* * * *
Not many can achieve that
For which they are ill-suited.

* * * *
Whether to seek purification of a body
Permeated with filth and decay
And a host of organisms,
Is but a temporary, mortal dilemma.

* * * *
Promotion of one idealistic delusion or another
Requires far more determination and vexation
Than the earnest candor of resolute cynicism.

* * * *
Pain is one of the greater teachers in this manifest theater.

* * * *
A very real state of awareness
Which all have equal opportunity to realize
If the call arises from within.

* * * *
Still exploring the dream, are we?

* * * *
A vast array of forms,
All wandering the quantum mist
Of imagination’s rainbow.

* * * *
You have resisted enough.
It is time to surrender.

* * * *
Fishing for fisherfolk.

* * * *
Across your universe,
You travel the time and space
Born of imagination.

* * * *
Strange how faces so often seem
To reflect the personality within.

* * * *
Do you even begin to realize
The full meaning of all you are
Reading, hearing or articulating?
It is a lotus, unfolding in time.

* * * *
An inclination to see it as it is
Is the hallmark of an honest skeptic,
Often called a cynic by those less acute.

* * * *
The god-mind is the flowering of your genetic lineage.

* * * *
There is only physical security up to a certain point.
No body can avoid its inevitable demise.
But you, you are immortal.
You are, have always been, will ever be.

* * * *
There is really no training manual on parenting,
Only the models in your family and village,
And a strong sense of trial and error.

* * * *
Napoleon’s cannons
Upon the enraged Paris mob
Is nothing new to the surging swarm.

* * * *
It is all you.
That’s it.
Stand alone, free.

* * * *
The corporal container
Is but a temporary means
To witness a flowing theater,
Full to the brim with distraction
To one inescapable end or another,
All played out within an eternal infinity
That discerns neither beginning nor end.

* * * *
There is much to do, or not to do,
And much less time to do, or not do it,
Than there was in that imaginary yesterday.

* * * *
Work through your demons
Until you realize everything you think is imagined,
And you need not continue harboring
The unending absurdities
Born of delusion.

* * * *
What a challenge for parochial minds across the world
To hold their own against the relativity
Of a universal view.

* * * *
Freedom within bounds is not freedom.

* * * *
Having neither need nor desire
To be the center of anyone’s attention,
One simply plays the Cheshire Cat,
Here and there with just a smile.

* * * *
What’s it all about?
Who is it who knows?
And who is it who cares?

* * * *
You are whatever you are,
Whatever you want to call it,
Or not.

* * * *
Such peace and serenity
You cannot imagine.

* * * *
And the given mind
Did evoke light and sound,
And all things from great to small.

* * * *
Pure awareness, the nectar of bliss.

* * * *
So many assumptions
To which we all subscribe in so many ways.
To what end the only question.

* * * *
You don’t really believe
Your little up-close-and-take-it-personal part
Is ultimately real, do you?


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