Eric Baret - A bottomless bag

photo Alex Greenshpun

 One day, you will see deeply that everything you need to do will tire you. You're going to be too tired to do anything, including being light, including being sad. You will see that all this is an activity that comes only when you claim to have a story, have a past and have a future. We can see all of this as a concept. It is a maturation that does not depend on any doing and that does not depend on time. So the word maturation is wrong. Avoid wanting to understand it, because you can not you can only understand that in time and that's wrong; maturation is in the moment. You are doomed to this maturation. The only postponement possible is to try to be mature, by thought, by action, or by emotion. That's a bottomless bag. You will be wiser every day, more free every day: it is a constant misery. You are constantly adjourning the essential.

At some point, you no longer seek to be less this and more that, to be without fear, to be without desire: you seek nothing. This can be called a form of respect, a respect for the reality, for what is there in the moment. It's respect for the essential. The essential is not something that is hidden behind the appereance - these are beautiful Indian stories -
the essential is what is there, it is what you feel in the moment. There is nothing else than that. There is nothing to understand, there is simply nothing. That's what is reflected as lightness that
apparently arises when the situations suit your ideology and which apparently disappears when the situations do not correspond to your plan for the humanity. At one time
you stop taking yourself for God and want to solve the problems of humanity - or yours, because it's the same. It's a story in both cases.

http://www.bhairava.ws/

Tsoknyi Rinpoche - Sometime go outside and sit

Sometime go outside and sit,
In the evening at sunset,
When there’s a slight breeze that touches your body,
And makes the leaves and the trees move gently.
You’re not trying to do anything, really.
You’re simply allowing yourself to be,
Very open from deep within,
Without holding onto anything whatsoever.
Don’t bring something back from the past, from a memory.
Don’t plan that something should happen.
Don’t hold onto anything in the present.
Nothing you perceive needs to be nailed down.
Simply let experience take place, very freely,
So that your empty, open heart
Is suffused with the tenderness of true compassion.

https://tsoknyirinpoche.org/

Kavi Jezzie Hockaday - A New Landlord

When love moved in
And took up permanent residence
It caused a lot of trouble
It told all the old dwellers to move out
Fear, regret, grievance
Self hate, even shame and intolerance
Were given notice
Of course they fought for a while
And hung on for dear life
But eventually they had to admit
The new landlord was ruthless
And set new standards
Love cleaned up the whole house
Threw out all the old and unwanted stuff
At first it was strangely quiet
And I almost missed the old inhabitants
With their crazy ways
But I soon got used to it
And it became quite ordinary.

And then truth moved in…..

Poetry of Brokenness and Beauty

 

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 

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