Unconditional Love speaks...

 

Unconditional

Love

Speaks and

Does not speak

Of

Equality...

An appearance..

 

An 

Appearance

Is never not

An

Appearance..

No matter

The 

Insistence of

Separation... 

The unknown storyteller..

 

The

Unknown

Storyteller

Tells an

Unknown

Story..

Simply delicious

Beyond any

Knowing...

the Reset button...

 

The 

Reset button

Is labeled

Nothing..

Appearances are

Nothing..

All is nothing..

Here is the

Freedom and peace

Passing understanding

Told by a

Reset story...

Presence..(Leonard Jacobson)

 

Joan Tollifson

Beautiful words from a book by Leonard Jacobson:

Now, very few people are willing to accept the present moment as it is. They’re looking for the big bang. They want to be enlightened. They want bliss and ecstasy. But all of that is driven by the ego, which is never satisfied with the way things are and is always wanting more. To be truly awakened is actually very ordinary. It just means that you are here as the trees are here. You’re here as the flowers are here. That’s all it is. You’re here, rather than lost in a world of not here. As you relax and deepen into the present moment, no matter how ordinary it appears to be, then slowly and gently the deeper levels of Presence will open up. The hidden treasures will be revealed. You can’t hold on to anything. You can’t seek anything. All you can do is relax into the present moment and accept the present moment as it is. Honor the present moment as the truth of life and the doorway to God, and it will reveal its hidden treasures…

God cannot be known with the mind. God cannot be understood or defined. The best that the mind can do is believe in God. But to believe in God is a very poor substitute for knowing God through your own direct experience. And once you know, there is no need for belief. 

For me, God is the silent Presence at the very heart of all things present. God is real. God is here now. But we are not. We have become absorbed into the past and future world of the mind. If you want to experience the living Presence of God in all things present, you will have to come to where God is. You will have to come out of the mind and become present. When we become fully present, we will begin to sense the Presence that is in everything. This Presence is what I mean by God, and it is reflected in the expression, “God is omnipresent.”

— Leonard Jacobson, from his book Liberating Jesus: What Would Jesus Say If He Returned Today?

The perfect simulation..

 

The perfect 

Simulation

Might be one

In which

The denial that

This is a 

Simulation is

Perfectly 

Simulated..

Which may seem

Perfect

To the one

Searching for

Perfect

Explanations..

I Am..

 

There may

Seem to be

A lingering

Appearance of

I Am

When wholeness

Captures the

Imagination..

Yet..perhaps

There is a

Hidden 

Dissolving of

I Am into

Nothing..

Or perhaps

Not...

The Raven...

 

The Raven...Edgar Allen Poe...

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—

Only this and nothing more."

 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Nameless here for evermore.

 

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more."

 

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you"—here I opened wide the door;—

Darkness there and nothing more.

 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"—

Merely this and nothing more.

 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

 'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

 

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as "Nevermore."

 

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."

Then the bird said "Nevermore."

 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

Of ‘Never—nevermore'."

 

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

    Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

 

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"

Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."

Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

 

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting—

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"

Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

 

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Solitude..

 

Solitude does not necessarily mean living apart from others; rather, it means never living apart from one’s self. It is not about the absence of other people — it is about being fully present to ourselves, whether or not we are with others.

~Parker Palmer

ALONE TOGETHER

“What is the bravest thing you’ve ever said?” asked the boy.

“Help,” said the horse.

“When have you been at your strongest?” asked the boy.

“When I have dared to show my weakness.”

“Asking for help isn’t giving up,” said the horse.

“It’s refusing to give up.”

     The dialogue above is an example of the simple wisdom expressed in the whimsical book The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse. Throughout the book, these four unlikely friends share with each other the lessons they’ve learned, the questions they’ve pondered, and the wisdom they’ve gleaned on their meanderings through life. In this snippet the focus is on the paradoxical truth that what appears to be the weakness of asking for help may actually be strength. It is, as the horse states, not giving up, but refusing to accept as defeat the inability to “go it alone” and, instead, to rely on others in times of need.

     It is difficult for many of us, to acknowledge our need for help. I know I’ve learned that it’s a sign of maturity to “go solo,” to soldier on by myself in the midst of life’s challenges, and that it is an indication of frailty to ask others to lend a hand. Even in the arena of our soul, where the truth of our oneness with each other is central, there can be a tendency to function as if we are on the “spiritual journey” by ourselves, when the reality is that we are alone together.

      Alone and together, solitude and community are the yin and yang of the spiritual life. We must be able to stand on our own two feet as we venture into the unknown of our journey with and to the God of our understanding, for no one else is the person we are and are called to be. But whether asking for or giving help, we are better together, more able to find our way because we are all, in the words of psychologist Gordon Allport (aka Ram Das), “walking each other home.”  

~~~Tom Stella

Seer in the boat...

 

The implications

Of wholeness..

It seems that

Wholeness is 

Sometimes seen

Applying to 

Everything

But the

Seer in the boat...

Seeming separation..

Separation is

A vital 

Appearance 

So that a story

Can be told 

With time and

Space sorting a

Breaking Story...

There is no between..

 

There is no between..

Between is

Separation's ploy

To retain a polarity

Of this and that..

If there is 

No this or that

Between is not..

Leaving this and that

Appearing to dance

Emptily...

Playing loose with language..

 

Playing loose with

Language..

Not good advice

From a legal

Angle..

Perfect as the

Illusory

Demands of 

Separation soften...

Rawness of red...

 

There seems
A rawness of red..
Stories of
Blood and battle
Of red sunsets
Of red eyes
Of negative poles..
Uneasy 
Yet fulfilling
Appearances of
What is...

Death of the ego..

 

"When the self (ego) 'died', there were a few moments of fear, and then the absoluteness of the Presence caused a lightning strike of awe. This breakthrough was spectacular and more intense than anything I had ever experienced. In ordinary experience, there is nothing that can compare to it.

The powerful shock that comes with it is "cushioned" by the Love that comes with the Presence. Without the support and protection of this Love, one would be annihilated.

There followed a moment of terror as the ego clung to its existence, fearing it would dissolve into nothing. Instead, it was replaced by the SELF as the All-Being, the All in which everything is known and evident and the perfect expression of its own Being.

With not being bound to a place or space came the Awareness that one's Self is all there ever was and ever will be.

One is all-encompassing and complete, reaching beyond any identity, gender, and even personhood. You never have to be afraid of suffering or death again."

~ David R. Hawkins

A bit of light..

 

A bit of light..

There is a story

That light is

Holographic

A bit of it

Appears as the

Whole..

Or the whole

Appears as a

Bit of it..

Perhaps a

Settling

Story...

Artificial Intelligence..

AI

Images seem

As surprises..

Arisings

With hints of

The prompting

Words..

Simply

Amazing..!

The AI message

Is that stories

And images

Are simply 

Unending..

Which is 

Simply

Nothing new...

What is This..??

 

What is This..??

Everything is

This and

Not this..

Yet sometimes

This is said

To be nothing

Appearing as

Everything..

Or it might

Be said

Everything is

Empty..

Language

Separates

Veils

But is also

This...

No other...

 

No other

Simply no

Separate

Other..

Other is

Already this

And not this...

No you..Walking...

No you

Walking..

Seems the

Unlocking 

Of freedom..

Appearances

Abide...

Enumerating what is not..

 

Enumerating

What is not

Often results in

Lengthy lists

Resisting poems..

Sometimes 

Appearing as an

Aggressive pen..

A fronting of

Emptiness 

Frees and equalizes

Words:

Nothing appearing

As words...

Grace is beyond understanding..

 

Grace

Is beyond

Understanding

But can appear:

I'm OK

You're OK

Or not

Or maybe...

Simplicity is not describable...

 

Simplicity

Is not

Describable..

But can mold

Itself into

What seems as

Unending

Complexity..

Maybe like

A fractal...

Empty already..

Empty

Already..

That's the 

Nutshell..

All else is

Empty

Commentary...

Nothing new under the sun..

 

Nothing new

Under the sun..

There are

No things

Separate things..

Appearances

Are 

Nothing

Appearing..

These are

Always new:

Nothing new

Under the sun...

Writing..and chasing the carrot...

 

Write 

And remove

The appearance

Of separation:

A prescription

For chasing

The unreachable

Carrot...

It "seems.."

 

It may seem

There is

Something 

Under

What seems..

Yet

That  under

Is also seeming..

It seems that

Separation is

Seeming..

All the

Way down

It seems...

Melting snow..

 

Melting snow..

The apparent

Snow becoming

Wet becoming

Dry..

Time

Evolution

Story..

These connections

Are illusions..

Knowing what  cannot

Be known..

Yet melting snow

Seems to unfold...

Aloneness...

 

Solitude

Can appear as

Aloneness..

Aloneness

As longing

For the peace

The emptiness

Of solitude

Seemingly

Missing...

Each one of us is alone in the world. It takes great courage to meet the full force of your aloneness. Most of the activity in society is subconsciously designed to quell the voice crying in the wilderness within you. The mystic Thomas a Kempis said that when you go out into the world, you return having lost some of yourself. Until you learn to inhabit your aloneness, the lonely distraction and noise of society will seduce you into false belonging, with which you will only become empty and weary. When you face your aloneness, something begins to happen. Gradually, the sense of bleakness changes into a sense of true belonging. This is a slow and open-ended transition but it is utterly vital in order to come into rhythm with your own individuality. In a sense this is the endless task of finding your true home within your life. It is not narcissistic, for as soon as you rest in the house of your own heart, doors and windows begin to open outwards to the world. No longer on the run from your aloneness, your connections with others become real and creative. You no longer need to covertly scrape affirmation from others or from projects outside yourself. This is slow work; it takes years to bring your mind home.

JOHN O'DONOHUE

Excerpt from the book, Eternal Echoes

Ordering Info: https://johnodonohue.com/store

Paradox and Shift...

 

When paradox

Seems to

Feel like

Wholeness..

That is what

Is often called

The "shift"...

Not-knowing..

 

Not-knowing

May seem as

Knife-edge:

A seeker's 

Confinement

Or not..

If not:

Not-knowing

Appears as

Seeking..

Feeling like

Freedom...

Subject and object..

“We don't see things as they are, 

we see them as we are.” 
― Anaïs Nin

The oft quoted

Quote

Seems to

Favor the

Subject over

The object..

With an

Apparent

Assumption:

There are

Subjects and

Objects..

A nice story

Of separation

As are all

Stories...

Permanence..

 

Permanence 

The not-moving

The not-two..

Yet

Not-moving 

Seems moving

Not-two seems two..

The paradox seems 

To dissolve and

Wholeness

Is This...

The individual..

 

Without paths or

Progressions..

There is a

Spontaneous end of

The individual as a

Separate person..

Seemingly

This simple story

Is what's new in

The long story of

Non-duality...

Story of Wholeness..

 

Nothing appears as everything. 

Everything appears as nothing. 

Blue appears as red. 

Red appears as blue. 

This is the story of 

Wholeness...