Sunday, January 23, 2022

John McIntosh ~ Thich Nhat Hahn


On January 22nd, 2022, THICH NHAT HANH departed the body he had worn for 95 years. This is how many spiritually oriented people will view this occurrence. Many will add: “Rest in Peace” as if he was ‘not’ in Peace before … and even then, this falls well short of what actually happened.
2000 years ago our beautiful Brother said:
“Of myself I am nothing [meaning the person which He knew to be an illusion], it is the ‘father/mother’ [meaning the Christ or Cosmic Consciousness – that He (and ALL) ‘are’] that does the work”.
THICH NHAT HANH knew and ‘lived’ this … but that does not make him different from ‘you’ … the Real YOU … it simply makes him ‘fully’ AWARE of Who He/All ‘are’ – the ONE SELF. In this regard, He – as with all who remembered fully Who They Are, became a ‘Shining example’ of this single Truth … that there ‘is’ only ONE disguised as many.
He is not ‘resting in Peace’ as if that is some kind of reward for his years of devotion and service – HE ‘is’ PEACE IT SELF – [a vast difference] another name for the ONE SELF He and YOU and All ‘are’. What one can ‘get’ and ‘have’ can be taken away and is therefore NOT real. What one ‘is’, is Eternal … YOU are no different … you have just forgotten.
THICH NHAT HANH has ‘gone’ nowhere since ONE is always ‘everywhere’ … ‘hidden in plain sight’ … and yet nowhere since all that seems to be is a dream. That which has a beginning, and an ending is NOT real. Nevertheless, He is nearer to YOU now than ever before and his beautiful example and influence will be fully FELT during the Great SHIFT into an era of Peace and Light that is now unfolding rapidly across the planet.








Friday, January 21, 2022

Fariduddin Attar ~ Myself toward Myself:



 The Sea
Will be the Sea
Whatever the drop's philosophy.
Your face is neither infinite nor ephemeral.
You can never see your own face,
only a reflection, not the face itself.
Joy! Joy! I triumph! Now no more I know
Myself as simply me. I burn with love
Unto myself, and bury me in love.
The centre is within me and its wonder
Lies as a circle everywhere about me.
Joy! Joy! No mortal thought can fathom me.
From each, Love demands a mystic silence
What do all seek so earnestly? 'Tis Love.
What do they whisper to each other? Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts.
In Love no longer "thou" and "I" exist,
For Self has passed away in the Beloved.
Yet what are seas and what is air? For all
Is God, and but a talisman are heaven and earth
To veil Divinity.
For heaven and earth,
Did He not permeate them, were but names;
Know then, that both this visible world and that
Which unseen is, alike are God Himself,
Naught is, save God: and all that is, is God.
Thou all Creation art, all we behold, but Thou,
The soul within the body lies concealed,
And Thou dost hide Thyself within the soul,
O soul in soul! Myst'ry in myst'ry hid!
Before all wert Thou, and are more than all!
All things are but masks at God's beck and call,
They are symbols that instruct us that God is all.
Sin and Contrition — Retribution owed,
And cancell'd — Pilgrim, Pilgrimage, and Road,
Was but Myself toward Myself: and Your
Arrival but Myself at my own Door...



Sunday, January 16, 2022

Wei Wu Wei ~ The dream goes on...



 Awareness is I-subject.
Truth is that which lies in a dimension beyond the reach of
What is your trouble? Mistaken identity.
'Birth' is the birth of the I-concept. 'Death' is the death of the
There is no other birth. There is no other death.
The 'world' is only a picture projected on to a screen.
I am pure Subject: everything I perceive is my object, but, as
object, ultimately my Self.
There is no Path! Paths lead from here to there. How can a path
lead from here to here? It could only lead away from home.
All methods require a doer. The only 'doer' is the I-concept.
All objects are necessarily untouchable.
Within and without, above and below - what is the resolution
of these opposites? A further direction of measurement.
Whole-mind has no 'thoughts', thoughts are split mind.
The 'aggregate of latent tendencies', held together by an
I-concept, is that which reincarnates - whatever that may be.
How do we know that the world is transitory, that time is
passing, that nothing stands still?
We could not know that our river was flowing unless we could put one foot on the bank!
There is no entity, only a continuum - and that continuum is consciousness.
Humility is the inevitable condition resulting from the absence
of an I-concept. Without such absence humility can only be a
mask for pride, which is its counterpart.
Science is concerned with objects, which are unreal. If it
concerned itself with the subject of the objects it might find out
what they really are.
Mind is the dynamic aspect of matter.
The 'present' does not exist objectively: it is subject itself.
The 'future' being unknown to us always, we live entirely in the past.
Searching is trying to see the Self (Reality) as an object. But,
all the time, that object is Subject.
Karma and Reincarnation, and all and all, belong to the
The dream goes on....
Meditation is exercising the I-concept.
'He who is in the habit of looking down upon others has not got
rid of the erroneous idea of a self.' (Hui Neng, p. 40.)
'Non-Action' is what we call Spontaneity.



Miranda Warren ~ The loneliness of the long distance seeker


Nonduality speakers say there’s nothing to know or get or see, right? Then they say there’s been liberation or whatnot, right? They got a timeline of their life, one guy wrote about years of seeking then bango! There was liberation. But he’s writing about it and talking about his search. Then the bloke goes, there’s no time. What am I missing? Is it (because) I’m not liberated? But they say no one's liberated and life's happening to no one and no one can understand this!
Confused as per usual,
Dear K.,
Crazy shite, innit it? Nonduality speakers are not wrong when they say this can’t be clearly and rationally spoken about or understood. The very idea of rational or logical thought is simply a belief, after all. But they often speak in ways that obscure what they often call “this message,” and somehow a number of them seem to feel they are speaking about it in the clearest way possible. Of course, no one is ever choosing words or thoughts, which when realized makes the whole enterprise a bit like a sitcom.
Seeker: How can you talk of your past when you say there is no past?
Speaker: No one is talking about anything. There is no me to have a past.
Seeker: But you wrote a book about your search.
Speaker: No one wrote it. But you can buy it for £10.50. It’s a good read!
Seeker: But who would read it?
Speaker: No one could read it. But you don’t know that, because you are a “me.”
Seeker: I am you?
Speakers: Well, that is true, but that’s not what’s being said.
Seeker: What’s being said?
Speaker: Nothing is being said. There is no one to say anything.
Seeker: I am confused.
Speaker: The “I” is confusion.
Seeker: I give up.
Speaker: Nice try. But there is no “you” to give up.
The world that appears is the only world that exists, or if we want to be very nondual, we can say “apparently” exists, since even with only our own seeming senses and perception we can glimpse that the solidity and “realness” of the world has no foundation. And if we include other ways of looking, however limited, we can find echoes of this in physics, neuroscience, philosophy, Eastern spirituality, etc. It’s not a new or novel idea. Basic nonduality is very simply the suggestion that separation is illusory. Yet this can sound like a denial of any appearance, which is absurd since appearances are all there is.
The difficulty in speaking of this is that the language we have, much more so than indigenous human languages, is rooted in separation. So any way of saying that separation is illusory ends up sounding like some “one/thing/being” that “knows/sees/realizes” that separation is illusory. And that is actually as far removed from this as you can get.
As Nancy (Neithercut) once wrote, “Awakening is not about diminishing or erasing the sense of self, the self remains, the dream of separation continues. Yet the feeling of separation, the feeling of being a doer of life disappears. It is simply beyond belief or imagination. That is why it is impossible to describe, and truly impossible for those who have not experienced this to believe there is such a thing.”
This can be pointed to or alluded to, but all words will always be misleading.
But to try to put it simply, many people have nighttime dreams with an entire history and timeline. I seem to have a memory of what we call a dream in which I had an 11-year-old sister, and my mother had married my Uncle instead of my father. I can still feel echoes of how deeply I loved my sister in the dream. Yet her image is unknown to me outside of these flashes of what we call memory, of a dream that was not even what we call “real.” In the dream, there was as much a sense of past and future as there seems to be “now” --- actually more, since I didn’t seem to doubt the reality of time and space in the nighttime dream.
The speaker you alluded to has a story about an imagined past. He also once said thoughts of the past don’t arise very often. Where is the past he writes about? Where can it be found except in his “memory,” and what is a memory? Like the story of my imagined family in my dream, the story of his “past” appears in this. Even if seeming “others” might verify parts of his story, my guess is that they would not even tell it the same way. Time and space, bodies and feelings and thoughts, though arbitrary abstractions of what is seamless, seem to appear, and are in fact all that there is to what we call life.
The speaker who talks of no separate self does not vanish into some deeper cosmic essence or become “no one.” Again, to quote Nancy, “When the self is recognized to be illusion, the dream does not end... self does not disappear... It is known that this mentally fabricated worded world is the only world we exist in, that we are the dream, that there is no outside to the dream This is it, what ever it looks and feels like.”
And that includes what we call memories, seeking, speaking of nonduality, or whatever seems to appear. There is nothing else. There is no one else. There is only ever this, and what this is or why this is or how this is or even if it is anything like what we call “this” at all…well, there is no liberation or non-liberation that will ever offer the answers, as the questions themselves are simply an artifact of your beautifully impossible, unimaginable, imaginary life. And, as they say in nonduality land, not even that! ❤




Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Wei Wu Wei ~ Gone with My Head


art Marcel van Luit


MY HEAD is the centre of the universe.
Everything I see, sense, know is centred in my head (and
in yours, and in the beetle’s).
All are objects in which my head is subject (mediate Subject
as a head, ultimate subject as “I”).
But I cannot see, sense, or know my head, and the inference
of its existence is inadmissible, sensorially unjustifiable.
I perceive no such object, all other objects but not that. My
head alone is not my object.
Of course not: it is subject, and an eye cannot see itself, I
cannot sensorially perceive myself, subject cannot know
itself—for that which is known is thereby an object. Subject
cannot subsist as its own object.
So, all that is object appears to exist;
Subject alone does not appear to exist.
But object cannot exist apart from subject, whose manifest
aspect it is.
Therefore it is apparently inexistent subject that IS, and
apparently existent object that IS not.
Yet, since object is subject, and subject is object, intemporally
that which they are, all that they can be, and all that IS,
is the absence of my head (and of yours, and of the beetle’s),
which is also the presence of everything.
Where, then, am I? Where, then, are you, and the beetle?
We are our absence.

With apologies to Mr. Douglas Harding, whose On Having
No Head should not be held responsible, and which says so much
more so much better. 


 All else is bondage PDF



Sunday, January 9, 2022

Kabir ~ No place



There’s no grief or joy,
no truth or lie,
no field of good and evil.
There’s no moon or sun,
no day or night,
but brilliance
without light.

No wisdom, no meditation,
no recitation, no renunciation,
no Veda, Quran,
or sacred song.
Action, possession, social
convention, all gone.

There’s no ground, no space,
no in, no out, nothing like
body or cosmos,
no five elements, no
three qualities,
no lyrics, no couplets.

No root, flower, seed, creeper.
Fruit shines
without a tree.
No inhale, exhale, upward, downward,
no way to count

Where that one lives,
there’s nothing.
Kabir says, I’ve got it!
If you catch my hint, you find
the same place—
no place. 




Thursday, January 6, 2022

Jane Taylor ~ Unchoreographed


one day i fell awake
how random
glancing up from my computer screen
all points of reference
i called my mother
asking if i was sane
people appeared as ants
scurrying to and fro
watching in fascination
i wondered
where were they rushing to
and for what purpose
it was as if
i was falling out of an airplane
without a parachute
tumbling through open space
with absolutely nothing
to hang on to
i don’t take drugs
and as a therapist
i was certain
a psychotic break was not occurring
reality fractured
and through jagged edges
and shards of brokenness
i saw into emptiness
gently peeling away
earth's crusted edge
feeling into
what it is like to have
nothing define you
at all
i wondered
if i was outside a scene
of a movie
or above watching it
i went to the only place
i could think of
inputting my symptomology
up came
the end of your world
by adyashanti
it’s the only thing that made sense
his words coalesced
into magical paragraphs
of kaleidoscopic rainbows
on which i could slide
in the world of duality
there was good news
and bad
feeling now
as if i could float in the rain
on clouds parting the sky
revealing shimmering shards of love
cascading silver skies
there was also
accompanying it
a glitched matrix
frosted with
an inability to be in denial
about anything
those convenient lies
we tell ourselves
to protect
what we hold most precious
laced with the coziness
of secreted self-deception
a ten year marriage
suddenly my boys and i
were knocking doors
trying to find shelter
miraculously life parted
leaving me in the middle
whilst it laughingly threw at me
extreme lessons
meant to scrub out
lasting stains of stubborn ego
whilst in moments of sheer agony
there was always a door left ajar
through which sparkled
a multi-dimensional
multi-colored trail
of limitlessness
five years past now
the egoic glass of water
runs ever clearer
and when a black grain of ego
ensconces my soul
the pain is indescribably
for once one has tasted
been engulfed in
the light of pure stillness
the shrieks of a dying
desperate ego
leaning back
swallowed in
by the sweet nectar
of realization
the illusion collapses altogether
and ‘tho i wouldn’t wish this on
the remnants that remain
energetically recalibrate
into multicolored strobes
of fascination
déjà vu
a daily occurrence from divinity
gently guides me
without a compass
life flows
glowing in synchronicity
like water
cascading silently
over fresh supple watercress
in a summer spring
things are more of a feeling
as holes are blown in the circuitry
and old navigational systems give way
to merging
with phosphorescent luminous colors
shining forth
from floursecent blades of grass
emerging out of fresh morning dew
the more appearances
are outwardly chaotic
it is apparent
third dimensional ground
is breaking
scattering into
tethered threads of despair
whilst a magical hand
weaves with majestic mastery
a new dimensionless
egoless dimension
of golden bronze nothingness
the secret revealed now
that all along
it wasn’t a dream
there is simply no dreamer
it’s an ethereal
illusory art
that of dancing
in the cosmos




Monday, January 3, 2022

Bulleh Shah ~ Come, Friend, come to my help


Come, Friend, come to my help –
my life is steeped in troubles!
In a dream, I became separated from you;
on waking, I could not find you.
Alone in a jungle, I have been robbed, O Lord,
and thieves and dacoits surround me.
Come, Friend, come to my help –
my life is steeped in troubles!
Mullahs and qazis lead me astray
through a maze of religious rituals.
They are like bird hunters and thugs
who have laid their nets everywhere.
Come, Friend, come to my help –
my life is steeped in troubles!
They preach the so-called ways of piety –
which are chains around my feet.
Love cares not for caste or creed;
it is the opposite of orthodox religion.
Come, Friend, come to my help –
my life is steeped in troubles!
The land of the Beloved lies across the river,
yet waves of avarice have engulfed me.
The Master is holding the boat –
why do you tarry, why this delay?
Come, Friend, come to my help –
my life is steeped in troubles!
O Bullah, you will surely realize the Lord;
give your heart encouragement.
The Beloved is right within you –
whom do you search for outside?
Why are you deluded in broad daylight?
O Bullah, you will surely realize the Lord;
give your heart encouragement.
The Beloved is right within you –
whom do you search for outside?
Why are you deluded in broad daylight?