CCC
So many mysteries by which you are so easily distracted.
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It is a change of heart in the most aware sense.
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Those who worry about how others see them
Dress up or down to the many judgments
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Our ancestors worked so hard for this?
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It is whatever you imagine.
It is not anything you imagine.
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Absurdity beyond wordity.
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To love thy Self, one must be completely true through and through.
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Vanity’s upsweep.
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Fashionably plain.
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Who has time for anything?
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In anonymity, absolute freedom.
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Others generally prefer your good intentions.
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Mirages keep you going long after their meaning is gone.
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Another drama for which you have little if any need or want.
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Whatever passion you choose to play out,
It must all be streaming seamlessly
In the right now of awareness.
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All value is arbitrary agreement.
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At some point, what in god’s name is there to even think about?
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Forget you even exist.
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Nothing to be,
Nothing to see,
Nothing to do.
Such bliss.
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How many stories can any one mind imbibe and retain?
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So much, so badly spent.
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It becomes clearer by the day.
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Somebody had to play your little part,
And like it or not, it turned out to be you.
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What’s not to love once you discern it is all you.
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Where time ends, how can you not be anything but everything?
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You surely know your little role well enough
To forget playing it at least once and awhile.
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The new and improved Black Friday.
Got up earlier than any worm,
And still you were late.
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When the drop returns to the sea, what part of infinity is it not?
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May as well be the first time,
Given that every single moment
Is for all practical purposes,
Brand-spanking new.
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More meme yap.
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The mind is samsara.
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Dogma does not equal truth.
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You are as young
As the day you were born.
No matter the body’s state of being,
Eternal life is forever now.
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Equanimity is a quality one must alone discern.
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Any argument over attributes is a sure road to dogma.
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Can any thing make you truly happy for long?
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The endless dreaming
Inspired by human imagination
Lays waste to this magical garden’s womb
From which all dreams are born.
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Still trying to convince your Self, eh?
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You dabbler, you.
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I am.
I am not.
Who’s saying?
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Imagination is the limit.
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Where in the grand ether can time and space really exist as more than a dream?
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A vain species whose nature
Is prone to havoc and destruction
For any given rationalization.
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It was written by Lao Tzu:
Nothing is done,
And nothing is left undone.
What did he really mean by that, anyway?
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The awareness to which imagination subscribes.
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No need to go to any great depth to see it is all nothing.
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Is there anything more inane than obligatory giving?
Let guilty conscience be someone else’s problem.
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Another pointless exercise in flag-waving vanity.
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We are all students, we are all teachers.
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You think these words mean anything at all?
I am talking to my Self, and you the same.
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It’s been real, whatever that is.
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Monkey see, monkey do.
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You are the rabbit hole.
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We can’t all be rock stars.
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High-functioning narcissism.
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Traveled a long way to get nowhere.
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Never cross between a shopper and seller,
Unless you have a tollbooth soundly secured.
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What is the mind that no longer seeks to consume?
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Truth is not necessarily practical in the day-to-day mundane.
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More than a few folks a-watching the unfolding show in immeasurable ways.
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Leading humankind out of its desert wander
Is about as fruitless a job description
As any I Am could imagine.
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Peace is peace, whatever the context.
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You are that which is godness,
Witnessing an individual dream of creation,
As are all the immeasurable eyes
That are, have ever been,
And will ever be.
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You are, indeed, marvelous.
* * * *
Yet another story.
Ho-hum.
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You suffer for your mind.
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A full breath clears the mind.
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Every single moment forever spent long before you even begin to know it.
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Just making it up as the given day unfolds.
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Charity begins at home, wherever that may be.
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Deep hunger is sated with a full belly and an empty mind.
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Seems that no space on this planet shall be unfilled by conscious design.
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Such a different world plying the horizon.
Ready or not, it is a-coming.
Pity the future.
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Yield to your true nature.
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What is?
What is not?
Both non-questions
In the vast realm of wonder.
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It has always been this, nothing more, nothing less, nothing but.
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Drift alone amid the myriad forms.
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A demon is usually chattering away in someone’s all too welcoming ear.
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How inexplicable you are in that which is not.
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Verily, the truth has always been the singularity within.
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Dive into the vast aloneness that seers and mystics call home.
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Goodnight Master Sol, until the dreamtime of your morrow yet again rises.
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Perhaps it happened to you because weren't paying attention.
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The difference between black and white
Is a mind ever-inclined to abide
In a world of attributes.
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Ponder the conclusion to the game
Which has never really been
More than played.
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A state without peer.
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A joyride in hell.
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Same lack of difference.
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Let go of everything.
Be formless in consciousness
As you truly are prior to consciousness.
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About that which you no longer give a hoot,
There is much to be said and less to be done.
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Let political correctness be someone else's problem.
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If there is an intermediary, a middleman involved,
Then it is more than likely some lying, cheating, and stealing,
And maybe even something much more nefarious,
Is going on in the somewhere, somehow.
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No man is greater than a bullet, unless it is coming from his gun.
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What tranquility can there be without contentment?
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Are we talking self-respect? Or Self-respect?
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Of the myriad distractions mortality offers, sexuality is perhaps the most intoxicating.
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Do not blame the object for your desire.
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Suffering is the choice of ignorance; pleasure-seeking is not the remedy.
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Catch your Self if you can.
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Benign indifference.
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You only thought it happened.
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At Soul reality, to what is there to attach?
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Pure, unadulterated, immaculate awareness.
That is all it is, has ever been, will ever be.
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How vain all thoughts inspired by dualistic notion.
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Forget that you were ever born and that you will ever die.
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The mind's vanity can be boon or bust to those questing truth.
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The difference between any two points is infinitely infinitesimal.
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Every awakening is the first and last
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I am to you as you are to me.
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Coo-coo for naught.
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Go formless.
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Discern the wonder.
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What will be will be.
No point in worrying.
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Die within.
Melt back into the ground.
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All cultures eventually die hard.
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And in the morning light,
The promise of yet another day
Of pleasure and pain, of mortal repast.
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To want nothing, what is that about?
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Time gives weight to the wisdom of sages.
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Whatever happens, attend fully the given moment.
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Why be satisfied with anything less than pure, eternal, immortal awareness?
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Skin color is no indicator of intelligence; every mind is a universe unto its Self.
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In the dreams of those immersed in totality,
It does not matter what any other thinks.
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What to say to those who have spent so much of their time not looking for themselves.
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Except in the dreams of imagination, there has never been an individual soul.
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What you fear most, what you desire most, is what you have in imagination created.
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Are you this pretending That, or That pretending this?
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The freedom of being is in the seamlessness of each and every moment.
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The Return to Wonder
Field Notes from the Unknown
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved