Posts tagged consciousness

Believe in your own heart – Gautama Buddha

Do not believe anything
because it is said by an authority,
or if it is said to come from angels,
or from gods,
or from an inspired source.

Believe it only if you have explored it
in your own heart
and mind and body
and found it to be true.

Work out your own path,
through diligence.

~ Gautama Buddha

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A never ending string of pearls – Carlos Castaneda

Loving this world, seeing the beauty in everything.
Appreciating every moment as a beautiful, wholly contained,
pearl of eternal nature, this is the world to me.

A never ending string of pearls…. every moment is in and of it’s self a life time,
and when we have affection and let ourselves experience life without expectation…
that is when the majesty of the world opens her petals to us…
And welcomes us home.

~ Carlos Castaneda

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As We Think So We Become – Buddha

The thought manifests as the word, the word manifests as the deed.

The deed develops into habit, and habit hardens into character.

So watch the thought and its ways with care and let it spring from love.

Born out of concern for all living beings, the shadow follows the body

and never leaves it.

In the same way, as we think, we become. 

Buddha

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All Tomorrow’s Parties

I
Give me a thick coat to keep out the howling winds;
From those eyes, blood drained hate, mortal rust never
Sleeps alone.

Melancholia knew a boy blindsided,
I’d never seen the needle of death coming,
Skipped misery as a flaw.

How strange that happy words won’t turn the
Dissolving soul.

Young dreams now darker in the corner, bodies revolving
Towards the earth and heavens.

II
The way I remember your bed, may it never change.
In that morning light when I was not grey or tinned.
Potential, in skins; in the darkest blue of night
(the ecstatic fizz)
I still find you shining and fraying, twisted at the summit,
Drowned in concoctions of beauty and sacral liquid.

Step out with me on the feathered roads,
Spreading like nerves endings into the flesh of continents,
Where the winds map our backs and whip our necks into shape;
Dancing hair and minds invoke true love games tied in writhing knots.

Weave blankets over sinning dark rivers of doubt that flush the belly
Of freedom and potential; a familiar seasick feeling en masse.
Driftwood, our damned and splintered edges,
Finds soft lake lands beneath zero, shores of smoothed vermillion stones,
Wear this weariness like fur, easing away to hibernation.

The open road is no place for a closed book.

III
How long has this ghost lived here?
The heroes overseas with their own abstract endings to burden,
Hang on the free-winged as the horizon erupts like angry volcanoes.
The road is dug shallow, we reach for real but feelings soon fade
And muddy.

Excuses for religions blot ages and revolutions topple paper idols
Whilst the culprits lie low with serpentine illness;
Smoking balls of wool, laps lined with golden tweed
And seditious cocktails of hatred.

Never found a hometown, never settle down,
Never laid down rocks or rules, never cared for those odds;

The silhouetted condor picks at stars, tears through constellations,
Across the railroad track and I’m one way headed, no back ward steps.

Toothpicks and broken glass by the lazy stones not expecting
To find a penny in the mire or hands to hold.

IV
Back in our bed, I lay with your wholeness, wrapped up against icy climes;
36 and still young, just tender. Dreaming up names on the crumbling walls
Where rats raid our sleep.

Still nothing done, no words remain, no meaning-less
Than before, no scam that elegant, no ruse unique.
Alcohol still makes me burn and ruminate.

I hear the rain lashing down, renewing Turkish soil and the roses of the garden,
Tearing the dead leaves from the gutters, falling on the wolves of the forest,
Etching natural mandalas across the wilderness plains.

Show it to me again in dawn’s first blush, perfection breaks the hallowed canopies
Of the smoking village elders.

V
Maybe I’ll start wearing hats, take a vow of some sort;
Turn the grist in the internal grind, draw the white line engrained
Too far in timelessness;
Trace these migratory routes over rolls of red tape and wire fences,
To surely witness the making of an angel without crimson needles,
Dripping mania.

You can’t read about Picasso, take one snowflake at a time.

VI
When it’s your time you won’t feel the pain and your father will fall
Silently on one knee. Freedom falls beyond deaths shadows,
Where young hearts forever roam imperious.

Old sun, richer; sweet morning quality of being,
I’m drifting still in melted mind puddle.
No thoughts in my cave, buried alive by mundanity,
This material mutiny must be crushed.

Pictures behind closed eyes tell me more,
First real talk with my inner child, first time I loved there.
There’s fighting to be done, a war at our door,
No peace to be found until the last doubt fades
And the oak groves reclaim this island paradise;

A green revival trickles steady, drawn from the truth seams,
Scrawled jagged, ancestral, blackened minerals of fossilised wisdom.

For upstairs, wild mountain; in all tomorrows parties freedom comes,
In perfumed silence over purple heather clutches,
No one can live right steeped in senses.

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Rips in Something Greater

The Hourglass

A kind of truth daubed and clung, full mind eclipse,
Rips in something greater.

Exotic glimpses into raging symmetry,
A fully conscious blink.

Emptied of immensity and feeling,
Invisible numbers inhabit boundless desires.

Vision unparalleled through the mystic lens,
All wrapped up snugly in the gifts of a cosmic mentor.

Dying Star

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No fear in the familiar

P1080796

Sunset from Llyn Peninsula

Mysterious wisdom,
The hovering art,
The ‘all seeing eye!’

Beating the game through
A pack of propaganda.
Where are the super heroes we seek?

The infinite in the ordinary,
The wisdom of the ages
Ensnared by the daily grind,

In bodies, in minds.

Where is the siddhi of truth?
Lost in the foothills of the insane
Desire spirals in a consuming charade.

Have we thought it through?
You; the master who rules.
The mantle of a god is a curse.

No alarms, no surprises,
No shock and joy.
Will relates to the extraordinary.

True affection
In the humanity of petty existence;
Brilliant existence,
Existence for the sake of it.

Do not be disappointed
By the magical mornings
Of grey skies and cold toast.

No white robes or
Beatific folly can ease
The darkness drawn to your gaze.

Do not fear the familiar,
For the tired lines on your face
Are the brushstrokes of true grace.

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‘The Western Guru’ – Albert Einstein and Tenzin Palmo

I have heard people in the East refer to Albert Einstein as one of the great Western gurus of the modern age and have had the pleasure of reading more into his life of late. The more that I learn about the man, the more I realise what a shining light of spiritual wisdom he was, especially when considering the cultural and social backdrop that he was living amongst.

‘A human being is part of a whole called by us the universe, a part limited in time and space.  He (or she) experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest, a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal selves and to affection for a few people nearest us.  Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.’  Albert Einstein 

I think the picture and words above show a man at ease with the nature of existence and possibly operating on a different level of awareness to most of us, behaviour certianly befitting that of a ‘guru’ (who traditionally takes seekers us from the dark and into the light).  Most of these spiritually charged quotes come from later in his life, when his science seemed to go a little awry.  I guess you can’t have the best of both worlds!

Milarepa

As the great Tibetan Buddhist saint Milarepa said:

‘Accustomed long to meditating on the whispered chosen truths. I have forgot all that is said and written and is printed in books.

Accustomed long to application of each new experience to my own spiritual growth, I have forgot all creeds and dogmas.

Accustomed long to know the meaning of the word-less, I have forgot the way to trace the roots of verbs, and source of words and phrases.’ 

The greater the level of spiritual inclination or exploration, the greater the intention to free ourselves from the bonds and restrictions of a purely ‘mind and material’ based existence; this in turn leads to a dissolution of concepts that once seemed to define our existence and ‘ourselves’.  We see a higher path to be tread.  We are free to perceive life for what it truly is, undistracted and pure.  Our focused consciousness encompasses all and is clearly immersed in the glory of the all pervading present; radiant in its simplicity and luminosity.  To exist in such a state, life can be equated to:

‘Music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all, but you are the music while the music lasts.’  T.S. Eliot   

If we can make this our life’s work, make this quest, this great disrobing, one of our priorities in life; then we may for once, collectively, unearth a remedy for human kinds many woes and unearth the route of all temporal suffering.

‘The whole of the worlds troubles are due to mans inability to sit alone in a room.’  Pascal      

Quotes and inspiration taken from the book ‘Cave in the Snow’ based on the life story of Tenzin Palmo. 

Tenzin Palmo

Loving kindness is spontaneous.  Obstacles the teacher, develop patience.  The way we die will be the way we lived.’  

‘We need to wake up, but the desire to keep sleeping is so strong.  We like dreaming.’

Tenzin Palmo

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