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Sunday, November 24, 2002

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  • Gloria Lee
    . . . Limpid ocean, clear sky, and moon-reflecting snow; this is the realm without a trace of the holy and sentient. At the opening of the diamond eye, flowers
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 25, 2002

      Limpid ocean, clear sky,
      and moon-reflecting snow;
      this is the realm
      without a trace of
      the holy and sentient.
      At the opening
      of the diamond eye,
      flowers of vanity fall.
      The whole universe
      vanishes into the realm
      of extinction.

      - Han-Shan Te-Ch’ing (1586)

      HIGHLIGHTS #1267
      Sunday, November 24, 2002
      Edited by Gloria
      HARSHA 9/29/98
      The non-dual state (call it Self or No Self or something beyond either of
      those, etc.) contains within it Absolute Certainty, not as a part of it, but
      simply as That Which Is. When Gurus speak of different states or stages of
      Realization (Sixth, Seventh, Eighth and beyond), it seems to me that they are
      caught in the trap of the mind which is easily fascinated by the trivial and the
      superficial. The Total and Radical Abiding in the Absolute Being does not allow
      for such differences. If there is still something left to go Beyond or Transcend
      then Realization/Recognition of the Absolute is not Clear and Steady. The Self
      Realized person sees his/her own mind as a particular type of condition arising
      out of the Absolute and is at ease with that condition. 
      DAVID HODGES  NDS  5/10/99
      Occasionally I sit in a cafe and write while sipping a coffee or cappuchino.
      Here was what I wrote last Friday before leaving for a retreat:

      You people sit and chatter in this cafe talking about "what happened" while
      God sits in your midst. God waits and guards and protects you to an extent
      you cannot imagine. The noises rise and surge - voices, music, the espresso
      machine. People walk in, the door squeaks, timers beep. Yet under it all,
      Reality is quiet and peaceful.
      Sometimes it seems to be a problem of focus. Personal self is blurred and
      jerky and Reality is hard to make out. When the focus clears you discover
      that what seemed to be the movement of armies on a foggy plain turns out to
      be a bird singing mightily in new leaves of a booming blossoming tree.
      When Self appears in your life, you redouble your efforts to get clear. You
      see why it is worth it. You think it will be heart-breaking to give up the
      personal, but it is heart-healing. You thought you were at home in your
      personal world, but your whole life feels like an exile and a lament
      compared to coming home to God. When Self announces itself, even though it
      be as through a fog, all the tightness of the personal releases, lets go.
      No need to hold tight anymore.  No need to cast about for consolation. No
      need to search anymore. Breezes blow from no known source. Light shines
      within from no observable sun. Silence is heard with an unutterable
      thunder. God's voice booms from the silence of pure listening.

       What's real is plain, I feel. But maybe the real doesn't feel plain at
       first. Maybe that's it. Perhaps someone else has some ideas. -Jerry

      What's real came unasked for, as the surprise of surprises, it left nothing
      to desire and was incommunicable. The "first meeting" led to another
      surprise that made what's real to all day normality, independent of any
      activity which is even less communicable.

      What is real, cannot be learned, cannot be taught, it is free, ever present
      and cannot be sought.
      What is real, cannot be earned, cannot be bought, is without "me" and
      without any thought.
      What is real, cannot be yearned, is neither existence nor is it naught.
      DAVID BOZZI poem  3/15/2000

      So we meet again.

      'Till not again or not ever.

      I'm pleased to have met you
      Every time we meet.

      And me?

      On the way over here
      I passed a school of logicolists.

      I  heard them classify me
      as I walked by.

      But you, never you.

      NDS 5/4/2000

      My desire is to realize pure love. ~neo  

      That's easy.
         Just quit everything else. ~xan

      JERRY KATZ   7/20/02
      Take a board. Place a variety of pebbles at one end. Take the end of the
      board where the pebbles are, and tilt it up a little. Some pebbles role to the
      bottom, other role off the side, others move slightly, some don't move at
      all, and all the pebbles that move have their own path.

      Rate each pebble according to its pebbleness, on a scale of one to five.

      It's pebbleness has nothing to do with the test that was applied.

      That's what's being done, not only when a person is rated, but when a person
      rates or judges what's going on with himself. You look at things as they are,
      which is simply as they are, not at their comparative behavior on a slanted

      Looking at things as they are is love and ahimsa.

      perfect on a slanted board,

      DAVID BOZZI  11/24/02
      I am both disease and healing,
      all at once.

      I am fire and the cold water
      that puts me out

      I am the softness of vulnerability
      and the rock
      that knocks me out.

      I am love and contradiction.

      If you behave the way I want you to
      I feel fulfilled,
      if not
      fuck you...

      Pull the mask from my tainted face
      and lo and behold
      hell and heaven birthing
      this body and earth.

      Truth tells me
      there is nothing that is mine,

      But that is exactly so
      the opposite
      of how I am inclined...

      Some may say that
      that's a cosmic joke

      but I say personally
      it's a curse cast like a fishnet
      to capture
      stray strands
      of awareness lost
      in this sea of dreaming planet


      you are not me

      and I am not you...
      ANDREW MCNAB  11/24/02

      The tree outside my window is there when I look, the same tree
      yet different each time.
      Each one of the myriad things that flow from the nameless
      mother has unique characteristics and while it changes constantly
      from its inception to its burning out it is still unlike any other.

      In reality you are the mother, or the mystery beyond. In this world of discourse you
      are one of the myriad things.
      photo by Al Larus
      Just listen to the silence that shines so brightly through all perception.


      Yes. Beautifully stated Andrew.

      The Silence.

      Where is it not?

      When is it not?

      What is it not?

      To See it is to Be It.


      photo by Al Larus


      HARSHA 01/19/98

       "Spiritual practice is not easy.

       It's better not to begin unless

       you intend to finish it.

       The unfinished business will haunt you."

      - Chogyam Trungpa


      Spiritual practice is not hard.

      You have always been doing it.

      But begin whenever you wish.

      It is already done.

      - Harsha


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