Adyashanti - Silence...

 The waves of mind
demand so much of Silence.
But She does not talk back
does not give answers nor arguments.
She is the hidden author of every thought every feeling
every moment.
Silence.

She speaks only one word.
And that word is this very existence.
No name you give Her touches Her
captures Her.
No understanding
can embrace Her.

Mind throws itself at Silence
demanding to be let in.
But no mind can enter into
Her radiant darkness
Her pure and smiling
nothingness.

The mind hurls itself
into sacred questions.
But Silence remains
unmoved by the tantrums.
She asks only for nothing.

Nothing.

But you won't give it to Her
because it is the last coin
in your pocket.
And you would rather
give her your demands
than your sacred and empty hands.

 The waves of mind
demand so much of Silence.
But She does not talk back
does not give answers nor arguments.
She is the hidden author of every thought every feeling
every moment.
Silence.

She speaks only one word.
And that word is this very existence.
No name you give Her touches Her
captures Her.
No understanding
can embrace Her.

Mind throws itself at Silence
demanding to be let in.
But no mind can enter into
Her radiant darkness
Her pure and smiling
nothingness.

The mind hurls itself
into sacred questions.
But Silence remains
unmoved by the tantrums.
She asks only for nothing.

Nothing.

But you won't give it to Her
because it is the last coin
in your pocket.
And you would rather
give her your demands
than your sacred and empty hands.

 

- Adyashanti, Emptiness Dancing -

https://www.adyashanti.org/

Danna Faulds - A door opens

A door opens.
Maybe I've been standing here shuffling my weight from foot to foot for decades,
or maybe I only knocked once.
In truth, it doesn't matter.
A door opens and I walk through without a backward glance.
This is it, then, one moment of truth in a lifetime of truth;
a choice made, a path taken, the gravitational pull of Spirit 

too compelling to ignore any longer.
I am received by something far too vast to see.
It has roots in antiquity but speaks clearly in the present tense.
"Be," the vastness says.
"Be without adverbs, descriptors, or qualities.
Be so alive that awareness bares itself uncloaked and unadorned.
Then go forth to give what you alone can give, awake to love and suffering,
unburdened by the weight of expectations.
Go forth to see and be seen, blossoming, always blossoming into your magnificence." 

source text here

 

Nisargadatta Maharaj - The dream

art Aaron paradox

 "Q: When did the dream begin?

M: It appears to be beginningless, but in fact it is only now.
From moment to moment you are renewing it.
Once you have seen that you are dreaming, you shall wake up.
But you do not see, because you want the dream to continue.
A day will come when you will long for the ending of the dream,
with all your heart and mind, and be willing to pay any price;
the price will be dispassion and detachment, the loss of interest in the dream itself.

Q: How helpless I am.

As long as the dream of existence lasts, I want it to continue.
As long as I want it to continue, it will last.

M: Wanting it to continue is not inevitable.
See clearly your condition, your very clarity will release you."

Nisagardatta Maharaj - The Play Goes On

art Parablev

 Surprising though it may seem, Maharaj is a superb actor. His features are mobile and he has
large, expressive eyes. When narrating an incident or discussing some subject, his features
spontaneously respond to his words and actions. His speech is very articulate and when he talks he
makes free use of gestures. It is, therefore, one thing to listen to a tape-recording of his talks and
quite another to hear his vibrant voice accompanied by appropriate gesticulations. He is a star
performer indeed.

One morning, among the listeners was a well-known European actor. Maharaj was explaining
how the image one has about oneself is not a faithful one; it keeps on changing from time to time
according to the changing circumstances. He went through the entire gamut of the usual life span,
describing the image one has of oneself as an infant, sucking a nipple and wanting nothing else;
then as a teenager bursting with health and strength and with ambitions to conquer the world; then a
love-lorn man, followed by the weary bread-earner with family responsibilities, and finally on to a
sick old man, hardly able to open his mouth and even incapable of controlling his bodily functions.
Which is the real you? Which of these different images? he asked.

Maharaj's narration was alive with actions and sound effects appropriate to the various stages
of life he described. It was sheer drama! We heard him in dumb admiration and the professional
actor was flabbergasted. "Never before have I seen such a brilliant performance", said he, though he
did not understand a word of the language that Maharaj spoke so effectively. 

He was simply spellbound.
While the actor marveled, Maharaj, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, said to him: "I am a
good actor. Am I not?" He added: Do you really understand what I am driving at, though? I know
you have appreciated this little performance of mine. But what you have seen now is not even an
infinitesimal part of what I am capable of doing. The whole universe is my stage. I not only act but
I construct the stage and the equipment; I write the script and direct the actors. Yes, I am the one
actor acting the roles of millions of people — and, what is more, this show never ends! The script is
being continuously written, new roles are being conceived, new settings are propped up for many
different situations. Am I not a wonderful actor/director/producer?

The truth however is, he added, that every one of you can say the same thing about himself.
But, it is ironic indeed that once you are really able to feel with deep conviction that that is so, the
show is over for you! Can you perceive that it is only you that is acting the role of every character
in the world? Or, will you confine yourself to the limited one-bit role that you have assigned to
yourself and live and die in that petty role?

POINTERS FROM NISARGADATTA MAHARAJ 

PDF DOWNLOAD 

 

Deeya - How Can I Ever Express Thee?

art Zahid Iqbal

 How can I ever express Thee,
'O Lover Divine?
YOU are my aching quiver,
My arch entwine.

The bow YOU fired into my Heart,
Struck me most gently,
Yet tore it apart.

Ripped at the seams,
Gushing with Splendour,
Loving me Truly,
Loving me Tender.

YOUR warm embrace touching my face,
YOUR Love like Thunder ...
I Am cast asunder.

Sparkling and dancing,
YOUR lightbeams diffuse,
Sumptuous, suffuse
And resplendent,
Only upon YOU Am I dependent.

Caught in a landslide of Perfect At-One-ment,
Awestruck with Wonder,
That that's what 'ALL' meant.

YOU are My One,
Bright as The Sun,
Alone WE are no-one,
Together ...
AS everyone.

Melting and heaving,
Closer than close,
To YOU ALONE ... I Am adhering.

Source