Saturday, December 6, 2014

Chuck Surface - Knowing Nothing

I could never explain to anyone,
What it was that I Longed for.
I could never explain,
Even to myself. 

It wasn't just an emotional thing,
Or some object of mental curiosity,
It was something of both, and far, far more,
Across the Whole of Being. 

It was there, always,
The Ancient Ache of the heart,
The relentless quest of the mind,
The furrowed brow of Wonder. 


When Longing was Fulfilled, I could never explain,
What it was that had happened,
Or the nature of that which Shone thereafter,
Effortlessly, always, in the Locus of the Heart. 

Spiritual academics had many explanations,
Of both Longing and Fulfillment.
But those descriptions fell far short,
Of the Kingdom of Heaven, or the Hearts Lingering Radiance.

And so I sat, and sit, in Experience,
With no knowledge of “what” is Experienced,
For all of the explanations I have heard,
Seem to me so much concept, theory, and conjecture. 

Authorities abound, emphatic, full of certitude,
On “enlightenment”, “awakening”, more so, or less so.
The unique expressions of those who have come before,
And experienced… Something. 

I keep to myself, and avoid the “spiritual marketplace”,
That cacophony of screaming vendors,
Screaming at each other, and all who pass by,
The nature of “Truth”. 

I sit on the porch with my puppy,
And watch the branches sway,
Dissolving in Golden Translucence.
What is that Light? 

I've no “idea”. 

I sit and Vanish, along with the world,
As Ananda wells up, flooding the Experience of Being,
Dissolving manifest form, in the Ecstasy of Formless Being.
What is this “Ananda”? 

I've no "idea". 

This is not enough for many of my friends,
Who seek to understand that which is beyond understanding,
Who seek to Know that which cannot be Known,
Who seek to experience what is only experienced… 

With the Vanishing of the Experiencer. 

Papaji - “Keep quiet ! ”

You do not need to go to any ashram, because nobody there knows how to sit quiet. In every ashram and center recently different therapies have been introduced.

There should be at least one person who could teach you silence, peace, and tranquility, and direct you to that place. He should be in the know of things himself, but nobody is there like that.

Therefore wherever you go, some kind of therapy has been introduced in every ashram. Because no one teaches, “Sit quiet and don't do anything.”

If a center were to do that what would be the use of that center?
A center is there for some commercial reason, for some material gain. This is the only teaching that is not practiced anywhere in the world !

What better teaching could there be, or what better teacher who tells you, “Keep quiet!”

This was the teaching of my master Sri Ramana Maharshi.
Nobody else has taught this recently, in this century.

There were a few teachers also in the past but not in this century.

In the twentieth century he alone was the teacher who could say, “Keep quiet ! ”

Friday, December 5, 2014

Sogyal Rinpoche - Gap

In the ordinary mind,
we perceive the stream of thoughts
as continuous, but in reality
this is not the case.
You will discover for yourself
that there is a gap between each thought.
When the past thought is past,
and the future thought has not yet arisen,
you will always find a gap in which the Rigpa,
the nature of mind, is revealed.
So the work of meditation
is to allow thoughts to slow down,
to make that gap become more and more apparent.

Sogyal Rinpoche _Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Mary Oliver - Mindful

Every day
I see or hear
that more or less kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen, to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional, the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant - but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab, the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

Deanna Medley - You and I are Lovers

As I lay
On the shore
Of my naked Soul....

Battered from
Rough seas

You return
My softness
With your
Open sands....

I run my fingers
Through you
As you pour
Over me
Again and again....

Restoring years
Of Erosion
To a
Supple oasis....

Miles and miles
Of you
Soothe my
Wandering feet....

I can feel you
As the warm breeze
Tumbles over
My skin....

Your whisper
Calls my name
From deep
Inside the
Konk shell....

I can taste you
On my skin
Where you
Like to
Embrace me....

You and I
Are lovers
Like the
Moon and
The tide....

It's not
We do
It's something
We feel....

Rafael Stoneman - Non dual fool

let’s get drunk together
on the wine of life and death
for living is dying
laughing is crying
and since we know
by now
there is no time
we might as well
what is
we are the only one
in this universe
and even
do not exist
how can it be
that every being
is that same one
moving about
singing and dancing
and making love to
we’ve read every nondual book
visited every teacher
asked every question
awakened, realized, enlightened
and here we go again
forgetting that
nothing has ever happened
making a big to do
about what we know
and who we are
so many nondual fools
expressed by the
ultimate foolish one
don’t steal a name
from the nameless
or a hat
from the headless
come naked
arrive thirsty
leave your shoes on
but take your concepts off
and leave them at the door
listen to this mumbo jumbo
blither babble
about what it takes to
be free
we’re not the only one
that ever felt lonely
all alone
with no home
searching for something new
for anything
that has never happened before
a fresh taste
a rejuvenating place
a beautiful face
searching for anything
that will erase
the imaginary
of separation
hurry up
act quick
the market is cornered
lickety split
suddenly the whole
of humanity
is wide awake
its no longer
a big deal to
know you are God
every kid on the block
has discovered this
one out of three
people today
are waking up
in the most usual way
just look at the blogs
every part of the world
the wheel in the cog
the illusion is now hurled
the beloved is working
in every gas station
laundromat, liquor store
and bank
everywhere we go
we see only
this wicked foolish one
the mischievous maker
of this
hide and seek life
burn baby burn
gotta love that
fire in our belly
our ego is scorched
our hearts now a torch
lighting the way
for night into day
shining nondual fools
transcending all thought-schools
and no longer trying
to offer stories of lying
no longer a title
not woman not man
not god not devil
no l. ron hubbard
upper level
nothing to do
no christian no jew
no muslim no buddhist
no gucchi no nudist
just this
this unremarkable presence
so what
we woke up from the dream
the nondual fool doesn’t
choose to drink alone
for starters
the nondual fool
doesn’t choose at all
the simple fact is
that no one wants to be around
the nondual fool
who acts as if more
‘the one’
than anyone
the stench of arrogance
is too much to bear
when the nondual fool
starts lecturing
about how we are all one
as if everybody
doesn’t already
get the joke
some shadow sprouts
and the nondual fool
goes deeper into
paranoid misery
which only
that self-involvement
which no one
wants to be around
we get it
you’re the one
but hey
guess what friend
so is
everyone else
don’t feel that pain
by all means
cover it up
with some
silly entertainment
some conceptual dismissal
we don’t want to
start feeling dismal
and really paying attention
to our own suffering forms
no, no, no
come let’s go
and write another book
on compassion

Monday, December 1, 2014

Ilie Cioara - “Self-knowing” is not a method

Two Autumns by Mikhail Trakhtenberg

 Two Autumns by Mikhail Trakhtenberg

 check out some beautiful Nature pictures Here

“Self-knowing” is not a religious belief, nor is it a method, because we do not anticipate any ideals to reach, nor set out with a goal in mind, by doing or not doing something. Will, effort, imagination, faith, repeating formulas or mental analysis are unnecessary, for the simple reason that all these are connected to the past and, therefore, they are part of the “ego”. This imaginary structure can only repeat old facts, increasing its “self-importance”.

Any method, no matter how promising, can only fortify the structure of the “ego”, further increasing the chaos within the individual. Functioning on this level, we ourselves set the traps and we fall into them. The reality of these facts demonstrates, beyond any doubt, that we are the victims of our own “ego”.

In practicing “Self-knowing”, we start only from “what is” — from the reality of facts appearing before us each moment, in the unfolding movement of the Aliveness. We need not do anything other than to come into direct contact with all these apparitions: thoughts, emotional states, desires, images etc. It is just a simple meeting, without pursuing any results or expectations.

The simplicity of the encounter with the movements of the “ego” leads to their disappearance. Both the encounter and the spontaneous disappearance of the reactions of the mind confirm the reality of “Knowing”. In this emptiness, we are a simple state of “being” or “Pure Consciousness”.

Only in this perfect meeting does a new perspective open; the Sacred within us manifests itself as Love, Intelligence and absolute Purity.

We can search the whole world, as well as everything that the human mind has imagined or invented, be we will never find anything comparable to the efficiency of this simple encounter, as a state of “Nothingness” or “Psychological Zero”.

The “emptiness” or passiveness of the mind — provided by lucid Attention — is an abyss, in which the old, egocentric, arrogant, fearful man disappears. Simultaneously with his disappearance, the true nature of our being is revealed — without beginning or end, in its essence immortal Divinity. This is the new man, destined to create a different world, in which Love and its hallowing impulses is present everywhere, creating a true Paradise on our planet.

Read more on Ilie Cioara Here

Two Autumns by Mikhail Trakhtenberg