A QUIET SUNDAY....
Sometimes I get the feeling there are people who have
stopped growing, who are perfectly still, virtually dead.
Their writing is so final. Like death.
The 'personal i' may simply have disappeared.
Yet some do speak with finality and retain a sense of
The world may seem infinitely more glorious, but
without a personal i, who is there to enjoy it?
When the so-called "personal i" is dropped,
nothing has been dropped, no one has
dropped anything. There are not those
who have dropped the "personal i" and
those who have not dropped the "personal i".
If calling this something, call it
"'dropping' dropped" ;-)
Neither final nor incomplete, it is
opening always only into itself.
Like rushing water from every direction
and no direction - infinitely moving and
unchangingly still; open and never incomplete:
now, all time, simultaneous, timeless.
It is neither "suffering" nor something
other than "suffering". Naming it
is fictionality. All naming is fictionality.
Truth, unspeakable as it is, allows no
compromise. The one who compromises is
fictional - as in reality, there is only
always full reality.
BW SALZMAN (Bertram)
My dear friends,
We keep trying to drink the word "water"..but it can never be done.The
description of an experience is not and can never be the experience
itself .Talking about meditation is not the state of meditation.
Seeing the world via our ideas of the world..is not seeing the world
Why have we settled for concepts the second hand goods of the Mind?
If we are serious about union with the Divine why continue our
useless chatter about the Divine? Why not sit down under a tree
and swear not to move until the doors of enlghtenment swing
open... directly revealing the Divine as experience... which no
amount of verbal description has ever done or can ever do.
Come join me under the tree.
The idea that there is an experience to be had
by swearing an oath and sitting under a tree
is also a concept. When is that "time"
when enlightenment will be, other than now?
This *is* "the experience! Saying "this *is*
it" doesn't add anything, doesn't subtract.
It's nothing to ponder, mull over, or do
Who is verbalizing, who is hearing,
what is it that is being described?
To call this "unmediated awareness" is
indeed, far too conceptual.
Yet, we speak, we express!
The description is never the reality,
and this is true, this very moment.
No description can ever be what it is
There is only the "Tree" and we, its
flowers each express the unique perfume
that is this garden's "opening".
Inhale the scents, interwoven, never
separate. Ah! Unspeakable, is
More words between us are not needed only perhaps a spiritual
I Care that you Are
This experience is here until
we really get it.
This all points to
where none of this is.
And we are there,
We paint this picture
to make heads or tails.
Then as it was given
Then, time disappears
In a cosmic hmmmm...
Yes..very intersting words.. But honestly is what they point to that
"experience" you speak of.. ALIVE in you right NOW? If not they are
symbols not worthy of the Sacred one who has written them. That
one is You!
The implication is that, THIS, coming at us right now, IS Unity Awareness.
In every instant there exists the opportunity to remove one more piece,
in a meticulously physical way: observing, discovering and discarding,
opening the way to see all the way through to Unity Awareness,
naked of any interpretation whatsoever. This physical process in inherently
human, and obscures to the nth degree, THIS!
so... it's kinda like looking for your glasses when their on your face.
"how long did it take to find your glasses?"
"i was looking for a long time, only to realize they were never lost."
ps. i have colorless glasses, which makes it even harder.
A Kirtan by Guru Nanak, translated by Premka Kaur.
"The sky is the azure silver,
The sun and moon are Thy lamp,
The stars are Thy scattered pearls.
The sandal forests are Thy incense,
And the breeze is Thy fan.
These, along with the flowers of vegetation,
Are laid as offerings at Thy feet.
What other worship can be compared to
Nature's own Festival of Lights,
While the Divine Music resounds within.
Thousand are Thine eyes, yet Thou hast no eyes;
Thousand are Thy forms, and yet Thou hast no form;
Thousand are Thy lotus-feet, and yet Thou hast no feet;
Thousand are Thy noses to smell, yet Thou hast no nose;
I am enchanted with Thy play,
It is the Light which lives in every heart,
And Thy Light which illumines every soul.
It is only through the Guru's teachings
that the Light comes to be shown.
Whatever is pleasing to Thee, that is the True Worship.
My soul yearns for the honey of Thy lotus-feet.
Night and day I am athirst for Thee.
I am like the bird who cries: Peeoo, Peeoo,
Waiting to receive the drop of water
which is the nectar of your kindness,
So that I may live in the ecstacy of Thy Name."
Om s'aantih: Peace! - J. K. Mohana Rao
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· (SA) "Swami Ji Maharaj, Saint of Agra, India"
· (SA) "The Lost Books of the Bible, Part One"
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· (SA) Eclectic Words and Music (No. 1)
· (SA) The Unknown Sayings of Jesus
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· (SA) The Wisdom of Meister Eckhart, Part Two
· (SA) Wisdom from the Desert
· (SA) James Bean discusses "The Wonders of Inner Space".
· (SA) The Yoga of Love - Becoming A Lover of the Beloved