One
Discern the indivisible awareness prior to all attributes,
All genders, all languages, all ideologies, all creeds, all geographies,
All families, all friends, all acquaintances, all antagonists,
All anything, all everything, under any given sun.
Discern that which is solely awareness,
Unblemished by any perception
Born of conscious design,
Mortal or otherwise.
2
No religion, no creed, no dogma in this world, or any other, speaks for that which is god.
They are all like blind men arguing over their limited perceptions of the elephant.
The dream is ever a mystery; none have ever owned it, and none ever will.
* * * *
The human paradigm is nothing more than a game of pretend,
A brief, mortal epic of seed lines strung like pearls
Through a theater of consciousness.
And you, solitary witness
To every possibility under the sun.
* * * *
The endless permutations of nature-nurture,
Of culture, of creed, of politics, of economics, of anything,
Are without conclusion, yet ever born, ever sculpted,
Of the same imaginary distillation of mind.
3
To learn from history is one thing, to allow the past to dominate the present, another.
Every generation must play the hand they are dealt in the time they are allotted.
Your ancestors had their time, you have yours, your progeny will have theirs.
The traditions, the patterns, that worked at one point may not in another.
To grapple with the present with a mind that is present is the highest order.
4
Our kind seems headed
Toward an unprecedented cataclysm,
And in the grand schema of things, does it really matter?
Each of us answers that eternal question in the way we carry out our daily lives,
But it is synergistically that the dice are cast and futures told.
So down the fated river we bob and weave,
All alone, all together,
Players in the history of mind.
5
It is really all about patterns within patterns within patterns.
Infinitesimal, miniscule, tiny, small, medium, large,
Huge, immense, practically infinite patterns.
Patterns of all the swirling elements,
Of earth, air, water and fire,
All grandly, indivisibly woven together
Within the infinite quantum-ether-hologram-matrix.
Everything dancing its rendering of Self away,
From every little way unto the greatest.
* * * *
What is existence but an entirely imagined script,
A genetic lottery in which no one has ever had any choice, any voice,
In the body they are given … in their family, ethnicity, gender, constitution, mental acuity,
Geography, culture, caste, creed, socio-economic level, language, education,
And the capacities and limitations, all variables together play out.
To assert any have even a mere sliver of free will
Is in itself a very dubious claim.
6
You might think thwacking someone over the noggin with reality
Would at some point, somehow, break through the barricaded fortress keep.
But consciousness steeped in conditioning, indoctrination, mind control, brainwashing,
Clings to any given delusion with beyond-the-pale resiliency.
What galvanizes some to wake up, and others
To go to their graves asleep,
Is a query to which
Only speculation has answer.
9
Your proud, relatively brief mortal existence is naught but an infinitesimal scratch on a linear timeline
Born of an immeasurable mystery, by whatever metaphor you might choose to describe it:
Creation, genesis, big bang, or turtles all the way down, turtles all the way up.
Stardust playing out a paradigm invoked by the happenstance of human consciousness.
13
The dreamy, romantic, clueless, quixotic, idealist might like to assume
The dark age that will be setting its shadow upon this world
Cannot help but recalibrate human consciousness
Into some sort of transcendent paradigm.
But that supposes, of course,
A shift in the genetic make-up, as well.
Which is, indeed, an inspiring leap of imagination.
* * * *
Dystopian future?
Perhaps you have not noticed,
But are we not already a ways down the trail?
A rape and pillage paradigm cannot rape and pillage forever.
18
Nothing can fundamentally change
As long as the one percent and their brethren
Decline to take much greater responsibility on a global level.
A profound awakening to a vision of the true nature
Is the reformation the future requires.
No real paradigm shift
Is remotely possible without it.
19
Probably relatively few
Would harm those they know and love,
Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends, acquaintances,
So how is it so many so willingly murder, rape, or plunder complete strangers?
How is it the monkey-mind cannot seem to transcend
Its tribal beginnings?
* * * *
The human drama is really founded upon
A monkey-mind, a larynx, opposable thumbs,
And a seemingly endless capacity for tool-making,
The sum of which wreak havoc upon the world
And its myriad creatures great and small.
* * * *
All organized religions, cults, sects, creeds,
Are really about dogma, limitation,
One groupthink or another.
Even in a large gathering,
Real religion is a solitary act,
Unfolding each and every moment,
Unattached, without any care, any concern.
* * * *
Whatever game-changing events are unfolding in the human paradigm
Have nothing to do with any convoluted dogmatic assertions.
Just good old biology doing what it has always done
Until it reaches a limitation, a boundary
That stops it in its tracks,
And sets the course a new direction.
22
The body is the sanctuary, the temple, the portal in which awareness resides.
It is ever-changing, replete with every sort of irregularity, and fated to one day dissolve.
But for a relatively brief perception of time, always within the unending moment,
There is the opportunity for the temporal consciousness, the dream weaver,
To play out whatever capacity and limitation and inclination allow.
25
You must ultimately discern that which is unconditional entirely alone.
There are as many ways to get there as there are minds pursuing it,
But it is you who must quest in solitude across the panorama,
Until the truth of it, within and without, becomes apparent.
Success is not guaranteed, and the brass ring easily misplaced.
26
Just because the genetic lottery cast you
Into a particular geography,
Culture, race, creed, politic, et cetera,
Does not mean you must forever abide the inanity,
The parochial limitations, any given mindset inevitably inspires.
29
We may all be one at the indivisible quantum level,
But we are all still bound by the limitations of the mortal dream;
Confined in a container whose primary directive is to play the monkey-mind.
Some may completely give themselves over to perpetual agape,
But for most it is ever a moment-to-moment challenge
To resist all the passions mortal fare offers.
* * * *
Eternity is awareness now.
Time is the wake of memory.
The future is all possible paths.
Free will looking forward,
Fate looking back.
30
Perhaps humankind will someday awaken when all its memes,
All its idolatries, all its imagined deities, have failed them one too many times.
But, then again, probably not, given that the monkey-mind genome
Is so easily compromised by every sort of delusion.
32
There is nothing to which to worship or plead, really.
Here you are, the indivisible, trapped in a body, all alone,
Dreaming out the unfolding collusion of the human paradigm.
All religion is founded upon the ignorance of this fundamental fact.
34
What is not to appreciate about the reality, that That from which you are created,
Is absolutely indifferent to your vain pretense of an existence.
Oblivion is the destiny of all creations.
So it goes, deal with it, get over it, move on.
* * * *
What is emancipation but a quality of mind
Free of any and all encumbrances, any and all notions.
Unfurl your essential, unconditional sovereignty
Into the stillness of untainted awareness.
38
Put aside the filter within your cluttered mind,
Discern directly whatever is before you.
It is your narrative of the world,
Your story of the universe.
Witness it as clearly and simply
As the given conditioned mind allows.
40
Any given religion was once a cult.
And every cult was a fabrication,
Founded on a pack of assumptions,
Likely concocted by a charismatic persona,
Willingly accepted by a small group prone to following,
Who conditioned their progeny to believe with little or no question.
And voilà, yet another organized religion is born,
To brew what havoc it surely does.
All too predictable.
* * * *
The ultimate reality is that each and every one of us
Has the opportunity to discern the mystery we all equally are.
But the conditioning, the mindsets, the traditions, the dogmas, the memes,
The identification of consciousness with the mind, the heart, the body, the world, the universe,
Have humankind locked in a stranglehold entirely of its own imaginary creation.
We are on a sure an unwavering course toward self-destruction,
A unfolding well beyond the point of no return.
What will come of it is the pulp of dystopian fiction.
41
What will it be like to never have to bother
About this human or any other mortal condition ever again?
No meaning, no purpose, no desire, no fear, no pain, no suffering, no ego, no vanity.
No physical, no mental, no emotional concerns one way or another.
Nirvana, serenity, bliss, call it what you will,
Just die to it all now.
45
What is the word “love” but a sound,
A sentimental concept, a neurological condition,
An exclusively temporal human fabrication
Projected upon an indifferent universe.
46
The monkey-mind festers in its vain intolerance of any difference it cannot abide.
The wisdom of insecurity in the indivisibility of all things
Is the abode of the rare few.
49
What can the tabula rasa know of original sin
Until the neuron trail is packed full
Of monkey-mind blather?
50
The three vanities: power, fame, fortune,
About which the human paradigm has,
Since its rise in the jungle, revolved.
54
How many times have you given heart and mind
To one thing or another, only to watch it all go badly?
So it goes, deal with it, get over it, move on.
It is all really only the dream of god.
Some get a pleasant reverie,
Others a dark nightmare.
Discern the greatest context,
And be content, at peace, in grace,
That it was your undeserving fate to play it so.
56
“Supreme Being” is being in the most
Omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent way.
It is less about some imaginary, personal divinity
Than the absoluteness of pure, unadulterated awareness.
Love is the indivisible, unconditional, impersonal indifference.
57
That which we call god is the quantum essence which is never born and can never die.
But if there were a personalized supreme divinity that so many have imagined,
He, she, it – or whatever – would more than likely be bored to tears
Having to daily endure the ceaselessly predictable inanities
Of our two-legged, thumb-wagging, tool-making, monkey-mind kind,
And the ongoing devastation of what is very likely one of eternity’s greatest creations.
* * * *
All of us doing whatever it is we want to do,
Well, that is the human paradigm in a nutshell.
* * * *
The set and costumes change,
But the monkey-mind stays the same.
If it is some sort of paradigm shift you pursue,
It can only manifest in your mind, and your mind alone.
Be whatever change you wish the world to be.
58
We are all given different destinies
Through which we may discern
The truth of our common essence,
If we leverage the mettle and veracity.
59
You see only see what you perceive.
You see only see what you know.
You see only see what you believe.
Everyone is but a frame of reference.
60
History has never repeated itself.
It merely recycles the same patterns.
61
Once a placid, winding river,
The roar of the falls is now very near,
And sounding nearer each and every moment.
Who will survive the chaotic mayhem
In the harsh rocks below?
Who will journey
The waterway of history
Beyond the coming Great Fall,
And what stories will their destinies tell?
* * * *
Who will be the last historian,
The last chronicler of the human paradigm?
Who will be the last to discern, to set down all that has passed
Since the first recording of humanity’s dream?
* * * *
Paradigms within paradigms within paradigms,
Gauges of undiscernable proportion dancing in the froth of consciousness,
Flowing about this spinning jacuzzi with all the other bubbles,
Paradigms within paradigms within paradigms.
63
To catch the hungry monkey,
The coconut is baited for desire.
The searching hand goes so easily in,
But will not come out with the fisted delight.
The treat will quickly bring about death
Unless the frantic creature discerns
The paradigm of the open hand
Is freedom's curious irony.
64
You need not participate in any mindset, any groupthink, large or small.
Cleanse your mind, your awareness, of all memes, all inventions, all fictions,
All inventions fashioned in imagination’s endless array of absurd notions.
Stand alone, and be as inwardly free as the day before you were born.
65
The foundation of any religious groupthink is one dogma or another,
All for the longing for something that is not, never was, and will never be.
It requires a timeless mind to discern the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
67
Why would anyone look to the geocentric,
Ethnocentric, mythological, superstitious rationalizations
Of mindsets forged thousands of years ago in fear, in ignorance, in delusion,
Over the verifiable observations of the true scientist.
You, scientist.
69
For any given life whose destiny it is
To awaken to the infinite, indivisible nature,
The universe woven together by the mind and senses
Is merely a means to the ending of time.
70
Awareness is not a belief system.
It is that which is prior to consciousness
And requires nothing but unconditional attention
For you to be both its master and servant.
71
However you manifest is a unique outcome of the patterns of the elemental nature.
The existence you play out creates the lessons from which you must learn.
There is no use envying another’s providence or decrying your own.
In the final analysis, they are all of the same beginning,
And inevitably diminish into the same end.
72
A wealthy life is having the health, the means, the spirit,
To do whatever the mystery-given capacities and limitations allow.
Your destiny is already written in the dusty sands of time.
You just have to every moment scrawl it out
In whatever way you will.
75
We are likely fulfilling the ancient prophecies
Because we have not yet discerned that “me, myself and I,”
Is ultimately an extremely dysfunctional paradigm for our continued survival.
76
Until that last wheezing breath,
You will have the opportunity to play out,
With whatever courage you have the capacity to muster,
The worldly fate for which you were born, and perhaps, just perhaps,
Even find more than a smidgen of contentment before its most certain mortal conclusion.
* * * *
Why even for a moment think
About struggling to be like everyone else?
To constantly try to blend in with any groupthink,
Kowtow to any tradition, imitate any mindset, abide any meme,
What complete and utter absurdity to wallow in the quagmire of herd instinct.
77
What is this impenetrable mystery that is called divine.
By many names, many sounds, many vibrations,
But the enigma of pure, indelible awareness,
The immeasurable prior to consciousness,
The indivisible, inscrutable presence,
The oblivion before all patterns,
The stillness before all time,
The soul of all creation.
79
Rome is but an idea, as is every nation-state before and since.
The same is true for any grouping caught up in the process of identification.
All are merely patterns, habits, imitations, copies, memes,
To which conditioned the monkey-mind
Cannot help but subscribe.
82
What is called evil is merely consciousness
Twisted by the elements into one harsh mindset or another.
Some hold to the inherent innocence,
And some do not.
* * * *
It is a harsh, even cruel truth, that the little folk,
Who have no real say in anything, are so often forced to suffer,
While those who are truly responsible remain unknown, untouchable, unconcerned.
It is the way it has always been in this abrasive, absurd little theater,
And the way it is will not likely be changing anytime soon.
Even those who survive the inevitable Great Fall,
Will probably re-fashion this scarred world
In the same petty win-lose paradigm
To which our two-legged genre
Has from its puddle origin subscribed.
87
So many are crushed and twisted by their lives,
While others traverse unscathed by even the most bitter fates.
Who can more than speculate why or why not?
* * * *
It is not some imagined god or great fiend
Who can be blamed for the hells of human concoction.
It is self-absorption that is the driving force of the entire human condition.
It is pride that has manifested the innumerable horrors
We have all together contrived.
89
Identity is born of the patterning of nature and nurture.
What you truly are is prior to all patterns, all designs,
All infatuations invented by any play of imagination.
90
The world in which each of us is comfortable
Is the world each of us calls normal.
It i a monkey-mind thing.
93
So, you win your little revolution, what will you really do differently?
Your mindset remains untouched; the vanities of power, wealth, fame, still rule.
Personas come and go, political correctness modifies, ever-changing cultures rise and fall,
But the central mindset remains unaltered, patterns evolved long ago still reign.
The only significant paradigm shift, the only profound revolution,
Would be in the dreamtime of consciousness itself,
And, ultimately, ironically, paradoxically, poignantly,
Even that would be no more than a temporal phenomenon.
* * * *
The evolutionary mind, the mind wrought in jungles and plains,
Ever pursues a sense of security, a consistency, an orderliness, a refuge.
How that quest for well-being manifests is the defining force of the human condition.
94
Regarding cheerleading for the human paradigm’s future,
We are likely well beyond the point of no return.
The game once afoot is now asunder.
96
Those capable of thinking outside their box well know its every nook and cranny.
Every frame of reference inflates from one nature-nurture origin or another.
99
Every seer taps into the unknown
With a filtered, incomplete frame of reference,
And thus dogma and its seemingly countless mischiefs take root.
Ever a cautionary tale.
103
What makes anyone really believe some deity born of their imagination
Truly wants this inane monkey-mind absurdity to continue?
A bad joke, a cruel hoax, a meaningless dream,
For which the only outcome is ruin.
105
So many wandering here and there,
Seeking out others to accept, even embrace
Their endless monkey-mind vanities.
110
Your fate is already assured.
You just have to play it out.
111
Sit quietly, move silently, watch closely,
Be as inwardly still as a calm, windless day,
And you will be the harvest of your temporal fate.
114
Those to whom unconditional freedom is the highest calling,
Are likely nearest to discerning the all-encompassing nature.
* * * *
You never know what the Fates have in store.
Best be ready for anything dreamtime allows.
117
Ensnared in a dream of time and space,
You must wander a maze that does not really exist,
And endure whatever fate it has in store.
118
Monkeys and their many trials, their many fates.
We must all reconcile to one branch or another.
* * * *
There is ultimately but one destiny,
And it is everything and nothing.
121
Why be bound by the limitations
Of the frame of reference of any other
When you are truly beyond all.
123
Every life form is shaped, wrought, conditioned, molded, sculpted,
By the ceaseless dynamic of its interweaving nature-nurture.
Ever an epic adventure, however long, however short.
* * * *
If Jesus was somehow to return,
And tell his followers they had gotten it all wrong,
Should they, would they, could they, even listen, much less change?
And would he suffer the same agony at their intolerant hands,
As he did in the explicitly painful, original production?
Assuming it really, even happened, of course.
124
Vanity’s only destiny is a brief echo in the abyss of oblivion.
127
There is a great emptiness, a great solitude, a great silence,
Waiting within when you are finished with all the noise of the world,
Playing its repetitive, hollow recording over and over in the monkey-mind head.
128
Fate is as fate does.
130
It is the same old patterns played out ever again since humankind
Came down from the branches, and wandered out across the world.
* * * *
No one can truly see the real You,
Nor can You truly see your Self.
It is your fate to play it all so,
Again and again, ever again.
132
History has never once repeated itself.
It is patterns that play out over and over again
Across every time, every geography.
133
We are all addicts to the patterns
Through which we daily wander.
141
If your concept of god does not incorporate you as more than a sheep,
To be herded to and fro in some groupthink-follower-collective,
Then perhaps you need to incite some serious doubting
For a very up-the-ante-worldview-change-up.
Slap your Self, so to speak, very hard.
144
Path? What path?
Journey? What journey?
Fate? What fate?
145
For what, exactly, are you hoping?
Power? Fame? Fortune? Security? … Immortality?
You already have so much: life, awareness, health, food, air, water …
As austere as it may sound, the things often taken for granted are truly your greatest wealth.
After all, you only abide this manifest play for as long as mortal fate allows.
Try not to squander its brief window of beingness too lightly.
146
The human paradigm has become so yawn.
149
What a challenging thing
Not to be drawn again and again and again
Into the human paradigm and its incessant, raucous cacophony,
All its cares and woes, all its troubles and bothers,
All its confusion and disharmony.
151
The monkey-mind races madly for the edge
Of the terra firma’s petri dish.
Biology will out.
152
The mind, with all its patterns, is like a clenched fist
Unable to let loose whatever attachments it fosters.
* * * *
We are all of the same mystery, the same eternal Soul,
But the character, the personality, the identity,
Wears the cloak of whatever illusory dream
The given nature-nurture has spawned.
Nothing about which to be inflated, really.
155
To be born is to stream a so-called life,
A so-called fate, a so-called death,
A dream, unborn all the while.
158
Is what we call growing up
Really any more
Than firing up the imagination
Into one nature-nurture caricature or another?
159
This too shall pass.
Everything does and forever will.
‘Tis the fate of stardust.
165
The stage onto which you are born
Shapes this brief, mortal, time-bound play.
Anatomy is destiny, character is fate.
166
You will play out whatever fate the quantum matrix has allotted.
Whatever genetic lottery has been formulated, whatever stage has been erected,
Whatever dice have been rolled, whatever hand has been dealt.
So it goes, deal with it, get over it, move on.
169
Conditioning, indoctrination, brainwashing, whatever it may be called,
When anyone gets told anything enough, it is pretty hard,
If not impossible, to ever un-believe it.
174
Fate often seems designed keep you entranced,
To make you suffer in ways beyond counting.
Far easier to master the world than your Self.
175
The belief in one idol or another is certainly the easier row to hoe,
But for those whose fate it is to discern the truth,
There is no other course
But to delve deeply, remorselessly within.
* * * *
Lend heart, money and things to friends and family
If you hanker to unconditionally, passionately experience
The greatest sense of unfathomable betrayal and inner struggle.
183
Consciousness is stagnating into memes of its own invention.
All are petrified mindsets, groupthink, propaganda,
Which can only magnify the disharmony
Over imagined differences.
185
You will play out your dream as you are most inclined.
It will seem like free will at the time,
And fate looking back.
* * * *
How still can you be, for how long?
The monkey-mind, in its monkey body,
Is incorrigibly perseverant, to say the least.
188
Just say no to scriptures, dogmas, idolatry, crystal basilicas, dress codes,
All the absurd belief systems born of the conditioned mind.
You are it, it is you, plain and simple, absolute.
The one and only house of godness
Is the awareness within,
Sovereign, indivisible, complete.
189
How does it feel to fathom
That you are just another shuffle
In the random genetic lottery of eternity.
Do you choose your dance, or merely succumb
To whatever paradigm the given nature has thrown you?
A speculative adventure from the get-go.
191
There are those whose destiny it is to create
What everyone else mimics and regurgitates.
193
Your dream will carry on as all dreams do.
Oblivion is the nonexistent fate of all.
195
The only difference between a sage and anyone else
Is a talent for stepping back and observing
The monkey-mind from within.
197
Serenity is just too much for most monkey-minds to bear,
Without pushing over one apple cart or another
Just to create a little wanton drama.
199
With every birth great to small, the mystery gets a new set of eyes,
A new reflection, a new paradigm, a new universe,
From which to witness creation.
201
Gurus in the traditional oral sense
Are no longer necessary the way they once were.
Penned thoughts are enough for those
Whose fate it is to awaken.
202
No one can aid anyone else in being truly happy or content.
Each is entirely on their own in discerning that which is eternal,
And it is more than a little unlikely that anyone can ever truly manage
The given monkey-mind unperturbed every single moment.
203
Once you accept the premise that you exist,
The belief that you are a body, the notion that you are this or that,
You are fated to play out whatever manifest context,
Whatever blend of agony and ecstasy,
Has you in its fell grip.
* * * *
We all have the same monkey-mind,
But for whatever reason, some are able to pull back
And meticulously examine the unknown all creation has in common.
It is, indeed, a mystery beyond the pale of any reckoning.
204
No use bothering about or worrying
That you are going to suffer,
That you are going to die.
Such is existence, and so it goes.
The destiny for all, in one fashion or another.
But the good news is that it will not be the real you dying.
Just another temporal apparition falling beneath
The wheel of creation and destruction.
205
Death only means an individual existence is all said and done.
But no life form can ever even know what is done is done
Because consciousness requires some sort of form,
Some sort of sensory-awareness receiving unit,
Able to perceive whatever ethereal dream
Those whimsical fates have in store.
206
Discernment of Self has nothing to do with station or caste.
Some are high born, some low, some middle.
There is no limit put upon
Those destined
To discern That I Am.
Do not be waylaid by the vanity
Of those who manipulate your subjugation
To the twisting corruptions of their self-absorbed wills.
207
Every mind its own shifting quagmire of heaven and hell,
Based on a frame of reference ever born of imagination.
* * * *
In the times that are quickly advancing from the horizon toward us all,
Things across the globe will deteriorate and renew in every imaginable way,
From chaos to cooperation, from absurdity to sensibility, from agony to ecstasy,
As this world, fragmented by human pride, downshifts into a paradigm of a lesser way.
No one born into it can evade it, no one born into it can do anything but abide it.
208
Whatever intelligence is manifested through you is the synergy of the mind-body-spirit's
Many experiences, many adventures, many victories, many defeats, many ecstasies, many agonies.
We all enact unique facets of the same monkey-mind, and likely all look back in wonder
At whatever trail we have wandered in our journey through the mortal faire.
* * * *
The scribe knows what is being written, but what are you reading?
The speaker knows what is being spoken, but what are you hearing?
Everything you see, touch, hear, feel, smell is but an arbitrary translation
Of the subjective nature-nurture mind-body in which the awareness dwells,
The witness before which creation is filtered through the caprice of imagination.
The observer is the never the observed, the observed is never the observer.
True objectivity is an impossible ideal, an unreachable brass ring,
Which even science can never more than pretend to attain.
209
Despite all the many different languages and cultures across the world,
What, really, is the likelihood that almost every single conversation
Is not essentially a derivative of the same human paradigm?
210
Yes, you will forget this, too.
Oblivion is the fate of all.
215
A species strung out on its conditioning.
219
It is the fate of ignorance to ever dig deeper its rutted road.
221
Your destiny is wrought by what you value enough to give your time.
222
Every form has a fate to which it is inexorably linked.
* * * *
Clueless looking forward, fate looking back.
224
No one changes their destiny; all only play it out.
226
How wearing this passionate monkey-mind.
231
We are all but pawns of the genetic lottery
And the winds of consciousness into which we are cast.
Call it what you will: fate, destiny, kismet, fortune, providence, karma,
In the grand matrix of it all, you are but a quantum twinkle.
232
A re-alignment of the human paradigm is inevitable.
The only important questions are where you, your progeny,
Your friends, and your community, will be,
When the inevitable comes about.
As Charles Darwin wrote:
It is not the strongest
of the species that survives,
nor the most intelligent that survives.
It is the one that is the most adaptable to change.
236
Few spiritual inquiries stray
Far beyond the given fairytale.
Early conditioning molds us all.
241
And the eighth day passed.
The garden had been thoroughly trashed.
Humankind – lost, dazed, confused – blind to its fate,
Wandered about the dystopian wasteland of its bittersweet handiwork.
Into the dawn of the ninth day, the day of the inevitable reckoning, what would transpire?
Complete and utter chaos and destruction? Oblivion of consciousness?
Or the reformation of the monkey-mind paradigm?
Would that there were a time machine
To witness the play’s inevitable conclusion.
242
Another day witnessing the monkey-mind play itself out.
Mass delusion and insanity on a worldwide scale.
No doubt any aliens watching us have plans
To keep the contagion from spreading.
* * * *
The fruit does not fall far from the tree.
The monkey-mind does not wander far from the jungle.
243
How differently would you see anyone
Were you to view the inner video of their life?
All the nature-nurture winds that molded their existence
Would certainly inspire compassion for all
In all but the hardest hearts.
244
If you cannot examine the universe in your mind,
Then your destiny is just one conditioned journey or another,
Dictated by the history, the make-believe, in which you have been steeped.
246
From the now so-long-ago entry into this dream world,
You have been conditioned to believe so many things truly matter,
And have gradually discerned many of them, if not all,
To indeed be very dubious assumptions.
Where to now, Pilgrim,
Now that doubt is your filament?
* * * *
Every sage across the world, across time,
Utilizes the language, the geographic assumption,
The frame of reference from which s/he hails.
So many ways to say the same thing.
247
Every destiny happens of its own mysterious accord.
All are written in the sands of imagination.
Some stay a while, maybe longer.
Some slip into oblivion,
Never to be seen
Or heard from again.
C’est la vie and so it goes.
248
Some are blessed, though many might argue cursed,
With a sense of doubt, with a capacity for irony and paradox,
With a skeptical wit that gradually transports them
Into a transcendent, indivisible state.
It is a rare destiny, this return to wonder,
To which all are beckoned, but few are chosen.
* * * *
There is no other side, other than in the endless intrigues of parasites,
Vampiring the treasure of the meek, destined only to inherit the earth.
249
Cannot stop fate … it is already written.
You just need to reach the last page
In a book without conclusion.
252
Around and within awareness, a food body is created,
And for a brief duration it witnesses Self
Through a tentative lens
Of whatever consciousness
The nature-nurture dream allows.
257
Considering that you feel all but done after just one rather fleeting dreamtime of a lifetime,
If there is some sort of supreme deity of an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent nature,
How beyond-the-pale weary it must be having to witness the human paradigm for eons.
264
Cast into the whimsical winds of time,
You discern your subjective personal universe
As the biological imperative of the genetic lottery ordains.
Such is the nature-nurture of free will.
Best wishes, Pilgrim.
* * * *
The human paradigm is a ceaseless array of stories of every sort.
Perceptions, all partial, incomplete, steeped in the ephemeral well of imagination,
Is not everything more than a little hackneyed, more than a little passé at this point in the human epic?
Have not we done everything all but inconceivable times beyond counting?
265
Others make it possible to explore, to sightsee mindsets
Outside your limitations, beyond your boundaries,
From the security of your couch, so to speak.
We are all really just voyeurs, onlookers,
Rubber-necking every which way,
Some consciously, some not.
* * * *
The way is simple.
No priesthood, no followers, no doctrine,
No edifices, no dress codes, no symbols, no tithing, no groupthink,
No oppression, no burden, no bondage, no encumbrance, no annoyance, no yoke whatsoever.
267
Political correctness is really any given monkey-mind
Molding others to an acceptable, comfortable limitation.
* * * *
What impetuous fire there is in youth.
The exuberance, the innocence, the arrogance, the folly.
Curious how life’s passing gradually tempers, even dampens, the many passions,
As the uncarved block, the a priori, is gradually whittled into destiny.
268
Just more inane dogma in a world
Already seething with endless monkey-mind blather.
So many telling others what they should believe, how they should exist.
Just walk way from it, put behind you all those who would limit
Your every thought, your every step, your every breath.
Live boldly, be the freedom you were born to be.
270
Eden, such a wondrous, magical gift, a garden extraordinaire.
Yet, given everything, the monkey-minds still wanted more.
* * * *
What is the universe but the same quantum dust
Spinning ceaseless patterns of every magnitude.
272
The monkey-mind, a never-ending jungle.
279
Awareness has no name, no attributes, and is aligned with no mindset.
287
Every life form ever manifested
Is doing, has done, will do,
With its brief existence,
Whatever fate has allotted.
290
Existence is all about whatever distractions the given fate calls into play.
297
The monkey-mind, irrational from its inception.
301
Your world, your universe is your quantum teacher,
And it seems it will offer whatever you are fated to experience,
And perchance whatever it is you are equipped to learn.
Who, what, where, when, why, is anyone’s guess.
* * * *
Just because you have behaved some set way all your life,
Does not mean you must awaken to the same today, or ever again.
Transcending the mind, the conditioning, the meme is always an option.
303
How can it be anything more than streaming sensation?
The eyes, the ears, the nose, the tongue, the skin,
Are nothing more than nerve endings channeling into the brain,
Which every moment imagines a conditioned translation of what you call the universe.
A solitary dream of consciousness, awareness playing its Self real,
Nothing more, nothing less, nothing but.
304
Whether or not you discern what this eye discerns,
Depends entirely upon whether or not it is your destiny to see.
All those whose fate it is not have a world full of idols,
With all their middlemen, from which to choose.
* * * *
The entire religious/spiritual game is just that, a game,
Artificial diversions fabricated by others
For monkey-minded purpose.
There is only you,
And no other is required
To fully apprehend and appreciate
The mystery of every moment’s eternal passing.
307
Re-establishing a guardianship relationship with nature
Will likely prove to be the overriding imperative
For the unenviable future we are together creating.
Assuming, of course, any survive to alter the paradigm.
309
You cannot open a door that will not open,
No matter your deepest yearning that it would be so.
Nor can you help but wander through one that seamlessly yawns.
Fate is as fate does.
310
Sodom and Gomorrah arise anew in every epoch, in every geography.
It is the outcome of the monkey-mind’s hedonistic nature.
Few move beyond the biological imperative,
And those who do not
Succumb to one consequence or another.
311
We are a species destined for a relatively quick decline, if not extinction,
For our scarcity of right relationship to the rules of engagement
Orchestrated by the game board’s divine natural order.
* * * *
As seen from perhaps the darkest before-the-storm points in human history,
Given the nature of our kind, is it even at all possible, that an enlightened paradigm
Might, like the fabled phoenix of mythical origin, rise up from the debris?
Away from the busy din, idealistic notions are so easily spun.
316
Perception is always such a muddy-waters thing
Because the input of the senses is whittled down so thoroughly
By the filtration process as it wanders through the patterning of the given mind.
Conditioning is the weaver of all dreams.
332
What paradigm, what frame of reference, can ever encompass you?
333
Though there is absolutely no requisite
For any moment to be played out any particular way,
Every form performs its destiny according to the given conditioning.
So though someone could do perhaps do anything conceivable in the quantum sense,
Free will is an illusion, and all will journey through whatever fate their form,
Their capacity and limitation, their blend of desire and fear, allows.
For anyone to do something entirely out of character
Really just means it was in their character from the get-go.
* * * *
Think you cannot at all get along without someone or something?
Oh, you will, my fine friend, rest assured you will, indeed,
Whether voluntarily, or from your cold, lifeless hands,
Absolutely everyone and everything will cease to exist as you do
When this magical mystery tour of a dream reaches its most certain conclusion.
Consciousness is but a temporal state requiring a vessel of some sort in which to play out.
The promises of everlasting life, of access to one deity or another, will always prove but empty and vain.
And of what is called rebirth, it is not some individual persona, but the essence that all things are,
And that quantum “you-ness” born anew will blow in the nature-nurture winds of its time,
Experiencing many things, always with very much the same awareness within all.
336
Everything you see, hear, touch, taste, and feel is but a projection of consciousness.
The Great Quantum will play out whatever theater you are conditioned to discern.
339
It is not the will of some deity, but your own that plays out its fate
Timelessly perceived within and without by the dispassionate witness.
340
Do not all stories have a certain predictability about them?
Same old monkey-mind plots drawn up with different characters and sets,
Different languages and costumes, different this, different that,
All ultimately merely tributaries of consciousness
Racing in time back into the eternal,
From which all arise.
341
Every sexually reproductive species has its evolutionary partnership between genders.
In the human paradigm, males hunted and fished and farmed, protected the perimeter, provided the seed.
Females attended the village, bore and nurtured the young, passed on the culture.
Adapting these ancient patternings so long in the making
To a world seething in disassociation
Is a the challenge for the future ever-now unfolding.
* * * *
We cannot all be here at the same time.
If we wish for this garden to sustain our kind,
And all the other myriad life forms it has given rise to,
We must very swiftly move toward a more rational paradigm.
If it really does not matter, which is obviously the case,
Then party on, and hope it will just be your progeny
Who will endure the inevitable consequences.
344
What other choice was there, really?
Like it or not, fate draws you
To your inevitable mortal conclusion.
You cannot change anything without it ever being
What has already been long ago written upon the sands of time.
346
Save a world that cannot be saved, or souls that can never be lost?
Such meaningless games our kind over and over so predictably plays.
Why on earth should any creation ever fear or deify its source?
Nothing but monkey-mind brew from beginning to end.
350
Life, there is just no choice about it.
Every seed is cast into one fate or another.
Every seed must play out whatever hand is dealt,
Or else conceive a means to fall on one sword or another.
* * * *
Who knows what incredible mysteries may reside
On other worlds, in other dimensions of this vast quantum matrix?
You must rely on your own frame of reference to hypothesize all possibilities possible,
Yet how can any ever be anything but you, whatever the guise?
352
How inane and absurd it all at some point becomes.
We prattle endlessly about truth, stillness, love, justice, and on and on.
But to remain in that state every moment is for most very challenging, very unlikely, indeed.
The monkey-mind is ever an enthralling thunder and lightning show
To which death is really the only antidote.
355
All creatures great and small are born of the same indivisible mystery.
All are fated never to see more than reflections of their own faces.
* * * *
Ignorance, stupidity, avarice, entitlement, and hate,
Ever at odds with intelligence, enlightenment, generosity and love.
Another day, same predictable, maddening paradigm.
357
How fortunate those whose destiny it is to attain virtuosity in one realm or another.
Only just less fortunate are those who can appreciate the virtuosity of every realm.
* * * *
Is there any greater curiosity than how absurdity has become
Such a dominant reality in the evolution of the monkey-mind.
* * * *
All translation must be observed with a dubious, discerning eye,
Especially the interpreter, the sorter, the filter, in your own inured mind.
Everything you perceive translates through the biases of your frame of reference:
Entirely subjective, entirely slanted, entirely unique, entirely idiosyncratic, entirely alone.
Step back from your conditioning, and realize from the dispassionate view of the quantum matrix,
That your entire existence from womb to grave is all nothing more than the huff and puff of imagination.
358
No destiny can be changed.
No fate can be avoided.
All are merely played out
As nature and nurture sculpt.
All are written, and yet to be written.
360
For memes to let loose their rigid grip
Would require a revolutionary paradigm shift
Seemingly well beyond the monkey-mind’s capacity.
In the eternal struggle between intelligence and ignorance,
It is not rocket science to predict which mindset will likely win out.
362
Kill off little self however you will.
The awareness is indifferent
To all manner of fates.
365
It is all make-believe, a game of pretend, a lie to which most subscribe.
Every mind wraps around one security blanket or another
To hold fast to its imaginary, sensory reality.
Those whose fate it is to awaken,
See it for what it is,
And in time,
Make their way home.
* * * *
Whatever the destiny, the endgame
Is inevitably enforced by the same Reaper.
Ain’t nobody gets to either heaven or hell alive,
And the same is to be said for karmic silliness, as well.
367
What might you be doing with your existence
If you had not somehow taken the road less traveled?
Free will looking forward, fate looking back.
371
So … so … so … monkey-mind.
375
Yet another intriguing nuance to the universe,
The world, the human condition.
Yawn, ho-hum.
* * * *
The very curious thing about so many organized religions
Is they truly believe theirs is the only true religion,
And that their true god will favor only them,
And will cast everyone else into hell.
Groupthink is groupthink,
No matter the flavor of the Kool Aid.
376
Sometimes the mind become so clear
That it seems you have finally awakened for all eternity.
But then the murkiness of consciousness resumes its conditioned grooves,
And you must once again stumble about the convoluted labyrinth of your own vivid imagination
Until the eternity of every moment breaks through the mists anew.
Perhaps someday you will be stay there.
382
Any fate largely depends
To what end the given persona will go
To appease their hunger, their thirst, their craving,
Their unquenchable, passionate yearning for more, more, more.
383
You want to know the one and only truth?
It is all you, nothing but you, and you absolutely alone.
Now, Pilgrim, sally forth against the many windmills of space and time,
And discover yet again that you are the source, you are Brahman,
If such a dreamy destiny be yours in some future telling.
385
Discerning the infinite truth of your Self
Erases all karma, erases all consequences,
And aligns your dreamtime fate with eternity.
386
How predictable it is for any given monkey-mind
To disparage, to resent, to even hate,
The countless things
Outside its finite frame of reference.
387
What someone said, what somewhat heard,
What are the odds that anyone, no matter how nimble,
Ever really entirely grasps any other’s frame of reference spot on?
388
Whatever you do is your fate.
There is no changing it, really.
* * * *
The you, you so earnestly imagine you are,
Is naught but a synergy of everyone and everything
Ever compiled in your brief, very temporal frame of reference.
394
What if humankind transformed its vain paradigm
To something more aligned with the garden,
And all its creatures great and small,
And perhaps even one another.
Everybody, on three: One, Two, Thr …
396
You cannot save anyone from their inevitable fate.
You may play a part, but it is they alone
Who must live out their dream.
* * * *
Call it destiny, fate, kismet, dream,
It is ever ephemeral and time-bound,
And has no lasting nature, whatsoever.
Only that prior to quantum dust has merit.
402
Forget everything.
Dismantle the conditioning,
The attachment to any conceptual weavings.
Become that which has no boundaries,
That which discerns no duality,
No within, no without.
No inner, no outer.
No this, no that.
403
You are but one of a universe chock-full of every sort of pattern,
Playing out its programming, for as long as the given design abides
Its written-in-the-sand destiny, in its transitory slice of time and space.
404
Make awareness the default setting, and Eden reappears,
Although covered with asphalt, cement, fences,
And other patterns of born of mind.
405
Any Auschwitz, any mayhem upon others, is really only the inevitable outcome
Of the torture and genocide we practice on all our other fellow earthlings.
Compassion is a quality of existence initiated in each and every step.
The fate of the many is often bound up in the actions of a few.
411
The virtual reality is a programmed matrix born of an indivisible quantum dynamic,
An intelligent design well beyond the dogmatic reckonings of any monkey-mind.
* * * *
The emotions of human perception are but the wiring of evolutionary origin.
Really nothing more than a temporal mutation in the mammalian paradigm.
412
A woman’s affection is often full of limiting terms and conditions,
To which many a male seems genetically programmed to concede.
414
All our imaginary universes are built upon frames of reference.
Each of us can only see, hear, touch, taste, and smell
What minds have been conditioned to know.
The mystery equally contains all.
415
The challenge with fate is not knowing what it is, and having to play it out one moment at a time.
422
It is all about synapses, how many there are, how fast they fire.
The Genetic Lottery is the Wheel of Destiny.
* * * *
So much influence established by mindsets
Whose time in the sun was long ago buried.
423
Faith, hope, love, are but ephemeral concepts born of the monkey-mind,
Bothers born of the wiring of an evolutionary track.
Nothing more, nothing less.
* * * *
Without any certainty of our fate, we wander forward.
What courage it takes to face and endure each day.
425
Everyone articulates an entirely unique universe
Based on the ceaselessly evolving nature-nurture
Intertwining through the their conscious design.
428
Whether you call it cause and effect,
Karma, fate, kismet, chance, luck, accident,
Consequence, providence, fortune, upshot, lot, result,
Destiny, ordained, designed, predetermined,
All play out in the ever-present now.
428
Group, herd, gaggle, flock, swarm, mass, crowd, throng, rabble, drove, multitude, company,
Host, army, pack, troop, gang, troupe, party, band, bevy, knot, cluster, bunch,
Posse, crew, surge, stream, huddle, school, horde, hive, mob.
So many words describing groupthink.
An instinctual thing; functional until it is not.
429
If it is your fate to discern a larger perspective
Than the given geography allows,
You must exit the cave,
And leave no stone unturned
In the hologram your mind perceives.
And in reality, it may not be at all that necessary
To leave the squalor of the cave, or turn over even one stone.
The only real question is whether or not you want to be free of all constraints.
431
It may all be written in the sands of time,
But it is you who must live it out one unknown at a time.
Free will, such as it is, looking forward,
Fate looking back.
432
The human paradigm is all about consumption.
Consumption of the senses, of the mind,
The ever-unfolding differentiation
Of one thing or another.
435
All religion is unnecessary, pointless, superfluous, gratuitous.
Whether one god or many, not one is real, not one is true.
All are imaginary fabrications, collusions of the monkey-mind.
What dogma or idolatry can there be in the indivisible formlessness?
436
Of the human paradigm, it can generally be said,
“I will care for you in so far as you will care for me.”
Love and hate are but capricious flips of any given mind.
437
Everything seems written-in-the-sand after the fact.
Dubious whether there is a meant-to-be about it.
Free will looking forward, fate looking back.
441
Have we not seen enough cults to know that every group creates its own mythology
To sustain its groupthink vision, its groupthink vanity, its groupthink raison d'etre.
No need to believe, no need to follow, no need to subscribe to any limited notion.
446
The array of experiences each mind perceives fashions its own future.
One’s fate is assured; it cannot be other than what it is.
The ever-shifting sands consume all.
448
Fate is fate.
To think it has ever been at all changed
Is akin to believing going right or left, forward or back, faster or slower,
Really means anything.
* * * *
Do not believe even for a moment
That anything you have ever spoken or written
Will significantly modify or change the human paradigm.
Toying with history is an amusing diversion,
But more than likely futile fare.
* * * *
The monkey-mind is chock-full of irrationality.
Only minds establish upon prudent, disciplined inquiry,
Can have any reasonable likelihood of approaching existence
With some evenhanded measure of rational integration.
450
What are good and evil but different aspects of the same monkey-mind.
Where else in the universe could such absurd notions possibly exist?
452
All these traditions,
All these geographic assumptions,
Vainly vying for supremacy in a world of dreams,
Where all patterns small to great orbit in a vast sea of relativity.
453
You are but a minute speck of this vast conundrum of a universe,
That happened, for whatever speculation might be mustered,
To have been born into this dreamtime as a human being,
Into a particular geography, with a particular mindset,
To which you have likely become far too attached.
454
Memes are cancerous patterns that infuse minds with regurgitated drivel.
* * * *
The Reaper is likely long past laughing at all monkey-mind exertions to avoid the scythe.
455
Any would-be deity that does not include absolutely everything
Is merely mumbo-jumbo born of the half-baked monkey-mind.
456
True meditation is not at all forced,
And no tradition, no scripture, no posture, no symbol,
No dogma, no mantra, no status, no garb, no diet, no gender, no vernacular,
No attribute contrived by the monkey-mind is in any way required to abet its momentary process.
Pure awareness is the source, the baseline, the witness, of all quantum creation.
* * * *
You are so caught up in the sensory dream,
So hypnotized, so conditioned, so brain-washed,
That you believe it all real, you believe it all important.
You believe everything thought, you believe everything felt.
All is vanity, nothing more, nothing less, nothing but,
And it the key to the mind in which you reside.
* * * *
Find your own voice, free of all the conditioning.
Free of the misinformation and disinformation of propaganda.
Free of the indoctrination and habituation of any brain-washing, whatsoever.
It is in there if you have the courage to stand alone against all tides.
457
Political correctness is the great malady of the monkey-mind.
461
Group dynamics are group dynamics, no matter the size or nature.
Really nothing more than tribalistic notions founded in the jungle long ago.
The common denominator of all religions, nation states, families, and high schools.
Just the monkey-mind over and over in different levels of self absorption.
Egocentricity, ethnocentricity, geocentricity, heliocentricity,
Were written into the original DNA source code
Long before the will born of mind
Began plying Darwinian truth to its own ends.
462
The human paradigm is steadily approaching
Its not very appealing decline, if not conclusion.
Kind of a reaching-the-edge-of-the-petri-dish thing.
464
Every one’s account of awakeness cannot help but be different,
As are all things that emerge from the ground of consciousness,
Conditioning being such a strong mainstay of its erratic nature.
* * * *
The quantum matrix programming is indivisible,
Indelible, indifferent, inexorable, indissoluble, indefatigable;
Intelligible only through the incisive code-breaking
Of mathematics, art, music, linguistics,
And other paradigms intuited by imagination.
* * * *
The newborn is but simple awareness.
The identity that will gradually in imagination bloom
Will be the mind-body’s nature-nurture adaptation to the sensory play.
The means to survive, to endure physically and psychologically,
The dreamtime into which it has been by chance cast.
465
The monkey-mind lays claim to every imaginable choice of behavior.
What rock has not been turned myriad times beyond remembering?
466
All monkey-mind interpretations are but imaginary, subjective, self-absorbed confabulations
Of the egocentric-ethnocentric-geocentric-chronocentric-heliocentric-cosmoscentric kind.
* * * *
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost.
How bothersome great adulation would be for many of those destined to see.
Anonymity, within and without, is an agreeable aspect of the freedom sovereignty brings.
467
Despite the muddle humanity has in every way imaginable made of it,
How can it possibly be that all creation is not fashioned of the same source?
All the creeds ever devised across all eternity cannot negate this one indelible truth:
That the quantum in one is the quantum in all, and the quantum in all is the quantum in one.
No one possesses the ultimate indivisibility any more than anyone or anything else,
Regardless of the incalculable machinations of the undiscerning multitudes
Given over to every imaginable paradigm under any given sun.
Do not be drawn into delusion by the fog of words.
Monkey-see-monkey-do is not bona fide.
* * * *
Most are likely easy targets should anyone want to do them harm.
The challenge in this dreamtime is to either make as few adversaries as possible,
Or to have the wherewithal to build castles and armies great enough to fend off the barbarians.
Not too many actors get to play pharaohs and kings and other warlord roles,
So, most must choose the former as the fickle fates allow.
468
Philosophers, students of existence that they are, ponder anything and everything.
No stone is left unturned as many times as is needed to learn
Whatever it is he/she is born to discern.
We are all seekers seeking out one fate or another.
* * * *
What are you but
A historical collage,
An economic statistic,
An anthropological result,
A psychological adaptation,
A sociological paradigm,
A scientific curiosity.
469
What is this monkey-mind need to identify with things,
To always be describing ourselves in so many ways,
Tagging ourselves as so many this’s and that’s?
As if all the labels have ever meant anything.
470
Wisdom is the upshot of a great deal of pleasure, a great deal of pain, in every way imaginable.
It is the outcome of having watched patterns over and over enough
To well know their inevitability.
471
We are all patterns seeking some sort of respite, some sort of reprieve,
From whatever purgatory the sensory-mind every twinkling imagines real.
The promise of god, of heaven, of eternal bliss, however hollow, is an easy sell.
472
Regarding destiny: Do you choose it? Or does it choose you?
Is there free will, chock-full of options, in this theater of space and time?
Or is the entire reverie nothing more than an indivisible, juggernauting recording,
An infinite matrix witnessed by the ultimate you in every way imaginable?
473
In all its interminable forms and concepts,
The idolatry to which the monkey-mind is prone
Shares across the board the same absurdity.
474
From the primal brainstem, the dawn of consciousness
Gradually evolved into the imaginary perception of a separate self.
The inherent collusion of a species on its journey of survival.
In the nothing more, nothing less, nothing but of it all,
The challenge is to move on to the final chapter,
To discern the unconditional singularity,
The origin of all things quantum.
Whether or not that will ever happen
Will be in some far-future-stay-tuned telling.
476
Once the life course has been set, once the world view has been molded,
A fair number of monkey-minds do not do well with too many choices, too many options.
Many feel the need to change, even destroy anyone, anything that is too different
Which for some means almost everyone and everything on the planet.
What a thing to be so confined, so narrowed, so limited,
So incapable of embracing the great all of it.
* * * *
In the statistical relativity of it all,
Things likely could be far worse or far better.
Gratitude is an attitude, a mindset well worth cultivating
If the hand you have been dealt in this game of life is at all equitable.
Count your blessings if you are so fortunate as to have some.
477
Insight into the unknown has never been a group thing, and never will be.
Groupthink only muddles the truth of it into one absurdity or another.
* * * *
True religion, true belief, true faith, true conviction,
Is surrender to the beingness, the aloneness of the eternal moment.
There is no deity, no creed, no dogma, no groupthink.
It is for you, and you alone, to discover.
So simple as to be discerned in each and every breath.
479
How did we evolve into playing it out in such discordant fashion?
What is this monkey-mind need to believe in anything?
What is this insatiable craving for power, for fame, for fortune?
Here we are somewhere near or past the summit of our brief history of time,
And where can it possibly go but into some dystopian nightmare on a sure road to extinction?
480
The mystery, the unknowable you truly are, is utterly anonymous.
Identity is but the temporal fabrication of consciousness,
Of imagination, and its secular attachment to form.
The source, the awareness, is prior to time, prior to mind,
And the rare who fully discern it abide in the unassuming solitude,
The sovereign, unconditional, indivisible, immortal aloneness of eternal life.
481
What is news but gossip with varying levels of exhortation to give it an aura of great importance.
Why we give attention to unfolding events across the world, or even across town,
Is the mystery of the monkey-mind and its evolutionary roots.
* * * *
The human mind-body is evolved of nature,
But its abstract, emotional, time-bound paradigm
Is not nature’s ingenuous, serendipitous way.
* * * *
How is the human species really any different
Than lemmings irreversibly rushing towards oblivion?
What is this dream but patterns within patterns within patterns?
482
Why would believe that beyond-the-pale-more-than-unlikely events happened thousands of years ago
When you have never once witnessed anything outside the bounds of natural law?
All are stories born in the forges of one groupthink or another,
Nothing more, nothing less, nothing but.
484
The mind being what it is, how possible is it to ever be completely free of the mindset,
The meme, the filter, the conditioning, the patterning, the habituating, the brainwashing,
Of any given body, any given family, any given group, any given culture, any given origin?
Imagination requires one starting point, one underpinning or another,
From which to launch into the dream of time.
* * * *
To project our monkey-mind collusion upon the cosmos,
And whatever unknowable mysteries are afoot in the infinity of it all,
Ever falls into a realm of self-deception well beyond the pale of any mortal vision.
486
As with any organism great to small born into this whirling garden world,
Human consciousness seeks out similar wavelengths within the spectrum of possibilities,
Thus preserving, spreading whatever perceptions, whatever memes, are harbored in the given mindset.
To discern one’s conditioning, and perchance to be free of it, or at least attentive to it,
Requires a skeptical, introspective nature of the highest order.
* * * *
The frame of reference, that bag of knowledge, that stew of perception,
Is but a phantasm of consciousness, a.k.a., imagination.
What you really are is prior to it all.
Discern it and be as free as the moment allows.
490
No one is truly free in this mortal human paradigm.
Ultimately, all are bound by one frame of reference or another.
Bound by geography, culture, religion, language, gender, conditioning, events,
Capacities and limitations, ambition, opportunities, ad infinitum.
Like it or no, that is how the genetic lottery rolls.
491
All the so-called scriptures were written by seers and sages
Really no different than anyone who has pondered existence before or since.
We are all cousins of the same puddle responding to the life and times into which we are cast.
The geography, culture, language, technology, and on and on, are inevitably different,
But guaranteed, beyond all doubt, we are all very much the same monkey-mind,
And prior to that, very much the same quantum stardust of all creation.
It is but a veiled, temporal play in which the myriad players
Are, in the ultimate eternal reality, one in the same.
* * * *
Every mind imagines a world to which its nature-nurture,
Its capacities and limitations, its frame of reference, subscribes.
No one can be more or less than what the genetic lottery has allotted.
Any rubber band, no matter how elastic, can only stretch so far.
493
Real spirituality is a solitary endeavor.
If you are following some beguiling personality,
Or participating in some sort of intoxicating groupthink,
Rest assured that you need to push the reset button.
* * * *
Be the world, the cosmos, everything you imagine it might contain.
Do not be held back by the innumerable limits of your given conditioning.
Stand alone, absolute, indivisible, inscrutable, the zenith of your panoramic view.
494
Identity is a charade born of the monkey-mind in some long ago,
A mortal game that you are forced to play to one degree or another
If you wish to survive for at least a modicum of mind’s potential.
* * * *
We all have an individual worldview, a unique universe of our own making.
All are equally authentic in their own indelible, imaginary way,
And yet all are created equally of the same origin,
The same inexplicable mystery.
There is no way it can ever be truly changed.
It may gradually evolve into something somewhat dissimilar,
But its roots will always harbor the conditioning of its nature-nurture beginnings.
* * * *
You see and hear and taste and smell and touch
Through the mind-body filter to which you are so attached.
The memes of dreamtime have molded you into a pattern you think you.
Only by discerning the quantum awareness prior to the nature-nurture programming
Can the essential, intrinsic freedom of that which is timeless, that which is eternal life, be truly won.
495
The human paradigm, perhaps the paradigm of all existence,
Is about consumption of the given sensory feed: sights, sounds, tastes, smells, textures.
Experiences of every imaginary scope filling every conceivable moment.
Meditation is a state of beingness less about consuming
Than it is riding the streaming wave,
Impassively witnessing the inexplicably timeless mystery,
That which has neither beginning nor end, cause nor purpose, rhyme nor reason.
496
Not easy to let go of all you think you are and are not in this absurd little dream of space-time.
The monkey-mind will seemingly do whatever it must to preserve its many illusions.
Absolute attention – desireless, fearless – is the key to eternal freedom.
499
What is any history but what some storyteller’s imaginary frame of reference,
Coupled with the translation of your frame of reference.
Very dubious from the get-go.
* * * *
And if it is perchance in your cards to figure out this mystery of mysteries,
How far will you glean it? What will you say? What will you do?
How will you play this, what might be called, fate of fates?
500
What is any given mind but a set, a bag, an array, of programming.
A circulating loop of habituation, conditioning, brainwashing.
A frame of reference believing its thoughts real and true,
Its manufactured identity sacrosanct and enduring.
* * * *
What are the shades of gray between black and white,
Good and bad, right and wrong, right and left, bitter or sweet,
Or any other dualistic notion born of the monkey-mind’s play of time?
The Last Page
Those whose destiny it is to become seers ponder many things
Until they gradually become aware of the foundation of consciousness itself,
And in that observant attentiveness to the awareness that never sleeps,
Their minds discern that from whence all things come and go,
And in that awareness merge back into the indivisibility
Of the eternity that is, has ever been, will ever be.
* * * *
Is there any creature, any form, fashioned in this vast universe.
That does not journey to the conclusion of its paradigm?
All nature is naught but patterns within patterns,
All functions of the same choicelessness,
All programming of quantum design,
Indivisible within one and all for all eternity.
* * * *
The quantum indivisibility is sightless,
Soundless, senseless, odorless, and tasteless.
Only in consciousness does any universe appear real.
* * * *
If the world, if the universe, was truly real,
How could it, would it, every instant be changing?
Only you do not change, only you have ever been the same,
Only you have ever been the one and only you,
Awareness, witnessing a dream.
* * * *
The Tao, by whatever sound you call it, is always the same.
The same as when you were born, the same as when you die,
The same as before you were born, the same as after you die.
Life is a brief opportunity to view it the same while you exist.
* * * *
That quantum essence that you truly are cannot die, for it was never born.
You are eternity, the stuff of stars, come to life in a dreaming of time.
There is no who, no what, no where, no when, no why, no how.
You are the nothing more, the nothing less, the nothing but.