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#2271 - Sunday, September 25, 2005

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  • markwotter704
    Archived issues of the NDHighlights are available online: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm Nondual Highlights Issue #2271, Sunday, September 25, 2005 ... I
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 25, 2005
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      Archived issues of the NDHighlights are available online:

      Nondual Highlights Issue #2271, Sunday, September 25, 2005


      I have no individuality. I have assumed no pose as a person.
      Whatever happens in the manifest consciousness happens.

      - Nisargadatta Maharaj


      Lose yourself,
      Lose yourself in this love.
      When you lose yourself in this love,
      you will find everything.

      Lose yourself,
      Lose yourself.
      Do not fear this loss, For you will rise from the earth
      and embrace the endless heavens.

      Lose yourself,
      Lose yourself.
      Escape from this earthly form,
      For this body is a chain
      and you are its prisoner.
      Smash through the prison wall
      and walk outside with the kings and princes.

      Lose yourself,
      Lose yourself at the foot of the glorious King.
      When you lose yourself
      before the King
      you will become the King.

      Lose yourself,
      Lose yourself.
      Escape from the black cloud
      that surrounds you.
      Then you will see your own light
      as radiant as the full moon.

      Now enter that silence.
      This is the surest way
      to lose yourself...

      What is your life about, anyway? -
      Nothing but a struggle to be someone,
      Nothing but a running from your own silence.

      - Rumi, from In the Arms of the Beloved, translation by Jonathan
      Star, posted to DailyDharma


      A Display of Mackerel

      They lie in parallel rows,
      on ice, head to tail,
      each a foot of luminosity

      barred with black bands,
      which divide the scales'
      radiant sections

      like seams of lead
      in a Tiffany window.
      Iridescent, watery

      prismatics: think abalone,
      the wildly rainbowed
      mirror of a soapbubble sphere,

      think sun on gasoline.
      Splendor, and splendor,
      and not a one in any way

      distinguished from the other
      --nothing about them
      of individuality. Instead

      they're all exact expressions
      of one soul,
      each a perfect fulfillment

      of heaven's template,
      mackerel essence. As if,
      after a lifetime arriving

      at this enameling, the jeweler's
      made uncountable examples,
      each as intricate

      in its oily fabulation
      as the one before.
      Suppose we could iridesce,

      like these, and lose ourselves
      entirely in the universe
      of shimmer--would you want

      to be yourself only,
      unduplicatable, doomed
      to be lost? They'd prefer,

      plainly, to be flashing participants,
      multitudinous. Even now
      they seem to be bolting

      forward, heedless of stasis.
      They don't care they're dead
      and nearly frozen,

      just as, presumably,
      they didn't care that they were living:
      all, all for all,

      the rainbowed school
      and its acres of brilliant classrooms,
      in which no verb is singular,

      or every one is. How happy they seem,
      even on ice, to be together, selfless,
      which is the price of gleaming.

      - Mark Doty


      The great sea
      Has sent me adrift

      It moves me As the weed
      in a great river

      Earth and the great weather
      Move me

      Have carried me away
      And move my inward parts
      with joy ...

      The arch of sky
      and mightiness of storms

      Have moved the Spirit
      within me

      Till I am carried away
      Trembling with joy ...

      - Uvavnuk - Inuit shaman, posted to Poetic_Mysticism


      Laughing Buddha

      When I broke open
      Buddha broke open,
      And neither of us
      has been the same since.
      In an instant
      we fell into each other laughing
      and neither one of us survived.

      But still the sun shines in the morning
      and sets in the evening.

      I am like a friendly old dog now
      wearing my master's night slippers,
      Yet somehow
      they fit perfectly.

      - Adyashanti from My Secret is Silence

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