The sea will be the sea, whatever the drop's philosophy...
Saturday, October 7, 2017
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
David Carse - Ulimate understanding
The ultimate understanding is a seeing and a knowing
rather than a comprehending.
And it does satisfy all questions,
though not answer them.
Answers become as irrelevant
as the questions themselves;
both cease in the seeing.
Do not judge the questioning or the longing,
the seeking or the sadness,
the impatience or the resistance,
the opening or the letting go.
It is all the perfect unfolding as it is:
only watch it and know you are not that.
You are Loving Awareness in which all this arises.
You are Quiet Compassionate Space in which the life
that you think of as 'yourself' unfolds.
This Still Expanse of Acceptance between the thoughts
is All That Is.
That is What You Are.
Let the Love that is this Stillness that You Are
Embrace you,
Overcome you.
rather than a comprehending.
And it does satisfy all questions,
though not answer them.
Answers become as irrelevant
as the questions themselves;
both cease in the seeing.
Do not judge the questioning or the longing,
the seeking or the sadness,
the impatience or the resistance,
the opening or the letting go.
It is all the perfect unfolding as it is:
only watch it and know you are not that.
You are Loving Awareness in which all this arises.
You are Quiet Compassionate Space in which the life
that you think of as 'yourself' unfolds.
This Still Expanse of Acceptance between the thoughts
is All That Is.
That is What You Are.
Let the Love that is this Stillness that You Are
Embrace you,
Overcome you.
PDF HERE
Sri Aurobindo - The Silence
Into the Silence, into the Silence,
Arise, O Spirit immortal,
Away from the turning Wheel, breaking the magical Circle.
Ascend, single and deathless:
Care no more for the whispers and the shoutings in the darkness.
Pass from the sphere of the grey and the little,
Leaving the cry and the struggle,
Into the Silence for ever.
Arise, O Spirit immortal,
Away from the turning Wheel, breaking the magical Circle.
Ascend, single and deathless:
Care no more for the whispers and the shoutings in the darkness.
Pass from the sphere of the grey and the little,
Leaving the cry and the struggle,
Into the Silence for ever.
Vast and immobile, formless and marvellous,
Higher than Heaven, wider than the universe,
In a pure glory of being,
In a bright stillness of self-seeing,
Communing with a boundlessness voiceless and intimate,
Make thy knowledge too high for thought, thy joy too deep for emotion;
At rest in the unchanging Light, mute with the wordless self-vision,
Spirit, pass out of thyself; Soul, escape from the clutch of Nature.
All thou hast seen cast from thee, O Witness.
Turn to the Alone and the Absolute, turn to the Eternal:
Be only eternity, peace and silence,
O world-transcending nameless Oneness,
Spirit immortal.
Higher than Heaven, wider than the universe,
In a pure glory of being,
In a bright stillness of self-seeing,
Communing with a boundlessness voiceless and intimate,
Make thy knowledge too high for thought, thy joy too deep for emotion;
At rest in the unchanging Light, mute with the wordless self-vision,
Spirit, pass out of thyself; Soul, escape from the clutch of Nature.
All thou hast seen cast from thee, O Witness.
Turn to the Alone and the Absolute, turn to the Eternal:
Be only eternity, peace and silence,
O world-transcending nameless Oneness,
Spirit immortal.
Monday, October 2, 2017
Samana - The flame of Silence
Receiving is that which is without beginning or end. There is but the recognition of the invitation. The Flame Of Silence resides in, and illumines the Heart, and this is the one true abode. Searching for enlightenment is the search for that which is, That which is always illumined, and one is That. There can be no search for That which IS. Searching for enlightenment is the play of desire and aversion as a means of substituting one notion of refuge for another. There is no escape, and there is nowhere to go. There is but the humble erosion of the fortress of notions scaffolded with belief, and humbling is the Grace of erosion.
Every arising of the story of i and the i itself is an offering. There is no escape, only the falling into the Heart. The play of desire and aversion is maintained by the habits of distraction. The Flame Of Silence is that which consumes all that is untrue, as love consumes all which is not love. Being is itself the way of purification, and this is to serve all Beingness.
All fragmentation is separation, and all fragmentation moves to wholeness as there is but the way of awakening. This is choiceless. There is no chooser of such. Wholeness is free of any division of inside outside. This is without end, as one welcomes the invitation of self, one welcomes the invitation as All. Separation is consumed by the eternal. There is but One Source, and as such, nowhere to go, no one doing anything, no doer.
There is but the recognition of the invitation. The enlightenment one seeks is the illumination within, prior to and not determined by any notion of self or story, yet these constructs and beliefs are the Grace which serve as the invitation and the welcoming. The Flame Of Silence is the eternal illumination which is the Heart, and this Heart is the one true abode. This is the Taste of light, as one is the illumined reflection of the illumined flame, yet never separate. May the Grace of the invitation and the welcoming be realized as One.
Every arising of the story of i and the i itself is an offering. There is no escape, only the falling into the Heart. The play of desire and aversion is maintained by the habits of distraction. The Flame Of Silence is that which consumes all that is untrue, as love consumes all which is not love. Being is itself the way of purification, and this is to serve all Beingness.
All fragmentation is separation, and all fragmentation moves to wholeness as there is but the way of awakening. This is choiceless. There is no chooser of such. Wholeness is free of any division of inside outside. This is without end, as one welcomes the invitation of self, one welcomes the invitation as All. Separation is consumed by the eternal. There is but One Source, and as such, nowhere to go, no one doing anything, no doer.
There is but the recognition of the invitation. The enlightenment one seeks is the illumination within, prior to and not determined by any notion of self or story, yet these constructs and beliefs are the Grace which serve as the invitation and the welcoming. The Flame Of Silence is the eternal illumination which is the Heart, and this Heart is the one true abode. This is the Taste of light, as one is the illumined reflection of the illumined flame, yet never separate. May the Grace of the invitation and the welcoming be realized as One.
Samana facebook
Samana satsang facebook
Sunday, October 1, 2017
Friday, September 29, 2017
Aisha Salem - Freedom
While on the Way,
enlightenment is a matter of Life and Death,
a Soul-wrenching defiance of want and will,
scraping its bloody knuckles against the raw and unmoving rock of naked Truth.
No chance to build a bridge or cut a deal,
with the sharp-eyed mistress of Reality,
always and ever demanding you to proceed and complete,
never land, never rest, never sleep,
just further and further until awake, alive and undone.
Worn to the bone and cut by the sword,
burned by the fire and dead to dreams and hopes,
one day nothing more happens and peace occurs,
by the end of the distorting wish for the false to be real.
of seeing the true as true.
No longer buried again and again,
by the fear of dying or the temptation to exist,
by concepts of friends, family, country or society, future, past or even now,
but enthralled in the blessed mist of non-knowing, non-needing, non-existing.
Happiness and its kin unhappiness, replacement by Joy,
Love and its kin hatred, replacement by vast openness,
Good and its buddy bad, buried in the sand-dunes of free Life,
no need for silence and no appreciation of noise.
True self of noself emanating as sweet nothing,
the sky be your hat as the ocean be your gut.
Simplicity no longer contested nor requested,
just naturally the result of peace.
No one knows in advance the resiliance of your stubborness,
or temperature of your passion,
only you can forge the Sword in the fire of Truth.
Enlightenment – after all –
is nothing but a crazy game for crazy people,
and yet, it might be the only game worth playing,
for the warrior foolish, passionate and demanding enough,
to be willing to die for nothing.
enlightenment is a matter of Life and Death,
a Soul-wrenching defiance of want and will,
scraping its bloody knuckles against the raw and unmoving rock of naked Truth.
No chance to build a bridge or cut a deal,
with the sharp-eyed mistress of Reality,
always and ever demanding you to proceed and complete,
never land, never rest, never sleep,
just further and further until awake, alive and undone.
Worn to the bone and cut by the sword,
burned by the fire and dead to dreams and hopes,
one day nothing more happens and peace occurs,
by the end of the distorting wish for the false to be real.
of seeing the true as true.
No longer buried again and again,
by the fear of dying or the temptation to exist,
by concepts of friends, family, country or society, future, past or even now,
but enthralled in the blessed mist of non-knowing, non-needing, non-existing.
Happiness and its kin unhappiness, replacement by Joy,
Love and its kin hatred, replacement by vast openness,
Good and its buddy bad, buried in the sand-dunes of free Life,
no need for silence and no appreciation of noise.
True self of noself emanating as sweet nothing,
the sky be your hat as the ocean be your gut.
Simplicity no longer contested nor requested,
just naturally the result of peace.
No one knows in advance the resiliance of your stubborness,
or temperature of your passion,
only you can forge the Sword in the fire of Truth.
Enlightenment – after all –
is nothing but a crazy game for crazy people,
and yet, it might be the only game worth playing,
for the warrior foolish, passionate and demanding enough,
to be willing to die for nothing.
Thursday, September 28, 2017
Chuck Surface - The kiss of Grace
I read one day...
That if I did not do thus,
And refrain from doing thus,
There would be no hope for me.
When I asked The Beloved of this,
She bound my hands, and Kissed my Heart.
I saw, the world over...
Brokenhearted souls struggling,
To perfect their imperfections,
Feeling it necessary to win Her Love.
When I asked The Beautiful One of this,
She covered my eyes, and Kissed my Heart.
I heard one day…
That from the multitudes of humanity,
Only a very few begin The Journey,
And that of these very few,
Only the most virtuous come to Her.
When I asked my Love of this,
She covered my ears, and Kissed my Heart.
In time, I fell into confusion and despair,
Having read, heard, and seen,
So many conflicting descriptions of "reality",
So many conflicting assertions of "truth".
When I asked The Bestower of Grace of this,
She stole my mind, and Kissed my Heart.
When I told the orthodox of this Kiss,
They mocked my madness and delusion,
Chided my arrogance and conceit,
And forbade me burial in holy ground.
When I asked The Merciful One of this,
She buried me in Her Heart.
That if I did not do thus,
And refrain from doing thus,
There would be no hope for me.
When I asked The Beloved of this,
She bound my hands, and Kissed my Heart.
I saw, the world over...
Brokenhearted souls struggling,
To perfect their imperfections,
Feeling it necessary to win Her Love.
When I asked The Beautiful One of this,
She covered my eyes, and Kissed my Heart.
I heard one day…
That from the multitudes of humanity,
Only a very few begin The Journey,
And that of these very few,
Only the most virtuous come to Her.
When I asked my Love of this,
She covered my ears, and Kissed my Heart.
In time, I fell into confusion and despair,
Having read, heard, and seen,
So many conflicting descriptions of "reality",
So many conflicting assertions of "truth".
When I asked The Bestower of Grace of this,
She stole my mind, and Kissed my Heart.
When I told the orthodox of this Kiss,
They mocked my madness and delusion,
Chided my arrogance and conceit,
And forbade me burial in holy ground.
When I asked The Merciful One of this,
She buried me in Her Heart.
Harrison Rappaport - the Lust of Leaves for Sunlight
At times,
I am no more.
then,
drunk with presence --
no Path
except right here,
right now.
no Prize
but the gentle unfolding
of this moment.
no Person,
only bright expanse
shimmering,
awake.
the same holy Life
in my eyes,
in the old oak,
in the creeping philodendrons
emerald, burgeoning --
the blissful lust of leaves
for sunlight.
I am no more.
then,
drunk with presence --
no Path
except right here,
right now.
no Prize
but the gentle unfolding
of this moment.
no Person,
only bright expanse
shimmering,
awake.
the same holy Life
in my eyes,
in the old oak,
in the creeping philodendrons
emerald, burgeoning --
the blissful lust of leaves
for sunlight.
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