Leftovers
You are eternity, You are the eternal, You are the now of awareness,
Peering out through stardust, into stardust; peering out through quantum, into quantum.
You are ever a mystery, to which there is no answer, no theorem, no philosophy, no religion, no anything.
Your challenge is to simply be it; unburdened by all the complexities, all the vagaries,
That the imaginary mind ceaselessly manifests into veil after veil,
Masking the stillness, You this moment are.
* * * *
These reflections are an offering, a gift, of the eternal life within all creation.
Am I the delusional one, for spouting these many musings? Or you, for not discerning it?
Or perhaps both, for ever having participated in this fantastical, utterly improbable dreamtime, at all.
* * * *
All human stages, all human endeavors, all human theatrics, no matter the time, no matter the place,
Be they scientific, mathematical, architectural, martial, philosophical, religious, mystical,
Commercial, engineering, manufacturing, craftsmanship, competitive, domestic,
Cultural, artistic, musical, dance, or literature in all its abundant arrays,
Have as their origin, the ever-enticing filament of imagination.
The entire human paradigm is its unrelenting handiwork.
The only freedom, for those rare few who seek it,
Is a mind given over to absolute awareness,
A mind given over to the tranquility of no-mind,
A mind given over to the equanimity of an eternal life.
* * * *
The unifying principal is not some word, some equation, some symbol, some sound, some anything.
It is You, You alone, this one-and-only timeless moment, that has ever been, will ever be.
It is the You that is the unadulterated awareness, the tabula rasa, the perpetuity,
The omniscient-omnipotent-omnipresent eternity within and without all.
* * * *
You are the unfathomable, playing fathomable.
You are the immutable, playing mercurial.
You are the indivisible, playing divisible.
You are the infinite, playing limited.
You are the timeless, playing time.
You are the ineffable, playing effable.
You are the infinitesimal, playing huge.
You are the changeless, playing changing.
You are the neverborn, playing existence.
You are the indelible, playing delible.
You are the flexible, playing inflexible.
You are the interminable, playing finite.
You are the everlasting, playing transient.
You are the perpetual, playing temporary.
You are the unknown, playing known.
You are the unutterable, playing utterable.
You are the absurdity, playing logic.
You are the unborn, playing life.
You are the undying, playing death.
You are the constant, playing irregular.
You are the impenetrable, playing penetrable.
You are the intangible, playing tangible.
You are the intrinsic, playing acquired.
You are the unending, playing destined.
You are the unceasing, playing sporadic.
You are the irrational, playing rational.
You are the indivisible, playing divisible.
You are the inexpressible, playing expressible.
You are the enduring, playing short-lived.
You are the ageless, playing age.
You are the abyss, playing shallow.
You are the indefinable, playing definable.
You are the immortal, playing mortal.
You are the eternal, playing transience.
You are the unspeakable, playing speakable.
You are the unchangeable, playing changeable.
You are the You, playing you.
* * * *
Awareness permeates all things, all illusions.
Any given universe is but a manifestation of quantum design,
In which the awareness, the infinite vastness of eternity, is witness to all, in all.
* * * *
How can you prove now; why should you have to?
How can you prove time; why should you have to?
How can you prove space; why should you have to?
How can you prove infinity; why should you have to?
How can you prove quantum; why should you have to?
How can you prove anything; why should you have to?
How can you prove everything; why should you have to?
How can you prove awareness; why should you have to?
How can you prove eternity; why should you have to?
How can you prove naught; why should you have to?
How can you prove You; why should you have to?
And as for some God, what would be the point?
* * * *
To imbibe the clear elixir of eternal life, timeless life, momentary life, disengage the mind from time;
From all the memories of existence – even from the recollection of a moment ago –
As often as the ever-present attention can wrestle itself free,
From the insistent grip of imagination,
The creator of all that is time-bound and illusory.
* * * *
Every life form has its rise and fall.
Every tribe has its rise and fall.
Every culture has its rise and fall.
Every nation has its rise and fall.
Every boulder has its rise and fall.
Every mountain has its rise and fall.
Every world has its rise and fall.
Every star has its rise and fall.
Every galaxy has its rise and fall.
Every universe has its rise and fall.
The mystery is all, the mystery permeates all.
The awareness, every moment, indelible witness of all.
There is no other; only the quantum matrix, and its eternity of appearances,
Kaleidoscoping a most excellent dream of space and time, that only the rarest minds discern unto Self.
* * * *
The less you cling to any given moment,
The less the dream will distract you from your eternal due;
The absoluteness you truly are, and are not.
* * * *
You each and every moment decide, whether or not,
To engage in the temporal, or the eternal;
In the tangible, or the ethereal.
* * * *
Still your mind.
Eternity is that stillness.
It is that simple.
* * * *
Every moment, a decision.
Every moment, a slice of process.
Every moment, the kaleidoscoping now.
Eternity will not be undone.
* * * *
Hallucinogens have no doubt played a significant role in the eternal quest, in all times, in all geographies.
To see the mystery clearly, one is not required to use the bounty the garden has used to entice us forward,
But they are useful tools, that can be used in conjunction, with whatever wandering opens the inner eye.
* * * *
Space and time can come to an end,
And eternal awareness, regain the helm,
If you manage to disregard the sensory input,
And allow the mind to be very still.
* * * *
Odds are that imagination will always be lurking about,
Waiting for any opening to distract You from the eternal moment,
From the timeless awareness You truly are, have ever been, will ever be.
Until those occasional moments, in which full attention kicks in,
And the real You awakens in the moment you ever are.
* * * *
The sense of self is not the body, not the mind, not the life.
Imagination usurps the eternal awareness for its own mortal schemes,
For its time-bound creations, that are, in reality, no more lasting than the moment.
Reincarnation is but an imaginary concept; no thespian returns to center stage again and again.
All are new seeds, new actors, in which the awareness, the mystery, performs yet another one-time show.
All who are born to the stage, are the same awareness, the same consciousness, the same witness.
Call it theater, call it matrix, call it god, call it whatever you will, it is one in all, all in one.
It is quantum stagecraft: unscripted, extemporaneous, serendipitous, happenchance.
* * * *
I observe you, you observe me, each of us peering out.
Only in reflections do we discern our masks and costumes,
Because we are both the same awareness, the same faceless Self,
Eternally gazing out upon all other imaginary parts.
And they, eternally gazing back at you.
You are the indelible mystery, and it is you.
* * * *
What if you could profoundly articulate and understand, every human language ever spoken, ever written.
That you were intimate with the histories from which they, in partnership with nature, evolved.
What an astounding thing it would have been, to have witnessed all creation, all genesis,
From beginning to end, from germination to fruition, from cradle to grave,
And what if that ‘what if’ included all life forms, from small to great,
All the other organisms this Darwinian garden has in space and time devised.
You would have to be some sort of all-encompassing deity, to achieve such awareness.
And surely that divine omniscience, can never more than imagine its way onto any mortal stage.
And though we all are all of this eternal awareness, we are but pawns in its mystery theater extraordinaire.
* * * *
The expanding cosmos of human knowledge is the first and foremost zero-sum game.
What will happen to it all, when the human species eventually goes who-knows-when-how extinct?
Is there some vast, eternal vault, wherein can be found a manilla folder, with a single page,
On which are, in faded print, typed beginning and end dates for a planet called Gaia?
So much for the vanity-vanity-all-is-vanity show being even noteworthy.
Maybe go ask all the Petri dish universes what they were about,
To voilà-realize that all existence anywhere, anytime,
Is really nothing more than a fleeting stain.
* * * *
Forget your imaginary self,
Forget your imaginary world,
Forget your imaginary universe,
Forget everything you think you know.
Become the ineffable, indelible, unknowable, unfathomable, intangible, indivisible, lasting, unutterable,
Irrational, unborn, undying, inexpressible, overwhelming, indefinable, expansive, immortal,
Unspeakable, deep, beyond words, ineradicable, permanent, enduring, intrinsic,
Engrained, deep-rooted, deep-seated, impenetrable, timeless, eternal,
Awareness,
You truly are.
* * * *
And why would it be in any way at all important, why would it be in any way at all significant,
To be known, to be remembered, to be revered, by two-leggeds you will never meet?
Neither now, nor hundreds nor thousands of orbits round our star hence.
Anonymity is the very solitary actuality for all things eternal.
* * * *
Are you really any more than a flesh-packaged-wrapped-sheathed-incased-bundled blob?
Are the human body’s five sensory accessories– eyes, ears, nose, tongue, nerve-ridden skin –
Anything more than Mr. Potato Head mechanisms wired into an organic central processing unit?
Are all the things that make the human paradigm what it is – opposable thumbs, larynx,
Two arms, two legs, lung capacity, group dynamics, sexuality, et cetera –
Anything more than the happenstance of natural selection?
The mystery is the master of all possibilities.
Nature is its ever-changing, ever-evolving expression.
The device You inhabit, is but current issue in a timeless dance,
Eternally kaleidoscoping, for as long as the enigma of imagination endures.
* * * *
Can any following ever not create some sort of unnecessary mischief?
Best to retain this variety of eternal questing in the solitary confines of your mind,
And if you do pass it on, try to be sure to chance into the recipient only as serendipity allows.
* * * *
It is not the awareness that does anything, that remembers anything.
Consciousness is the engineer of all mischief.
The eternal is immaculate.
* * * *
Your spin in the genetic lottery may make you lucky,
But it does not make you special, it does not make you superior,
It does not make you higher or lower, stronger or weaker,
In the eternal eye of the spaceless-timeless moment.
Try to avoid getting all narcissistic about it.
* * * *
If you think life is monotonous, imagine eternity.
As mundane and lackluster as the mind it is given.
* * * *
The busy-busy mind, the curious mind, the time-bound mind, the illusory mind,
Can be easily drawn, easily enticed, down every variety of rabbit hole.
To reside in the eternal awareness requires great detachment
From the temporal world and all its distractions.
* * * *
This moment is all there is, and there ain’t no more.
No who, no what, no where, no when, no why, no how.
Nothing to know, nothing to be, nothing to be curious about.
That there is nothing to conceive, is so amazingly slam-dunk obvious.
In fact, it is impossible to conceive, to imagine, anything, within any given moment.
Even if the momentary, unborn-undying awareness, could, somehow, stop long enough to consider it;
Could somehow, make the quantum space-time matrix, stop its kaleidoscoping merry-go-round;
Could somehow hold absolutely still, for even one single poof of an eternal moment;
It would all boil down to: this moment is all there is, and there ain’t no more.
* * * *
Imagination takes you anywhere you please.
It is the magic carpet ride of this eternal mystery.
Perhaps wearing a bit thin as far as this garden goes.
* * * *
How did you ever come to believe that You, were this mass of crunchy and chewy and gooey?
This double-double-toil-and-trouble vat of quantum, patterned into life,
That somehow, through countless Darwinian choices,
Came to be but the current chariot,
From which to witness your eternal creation.
Be not too attached to it, for it must go the way of all the rest.
* * * *
We all play the part, the role, spun by the genetic lottery.
Nature-nurture spins character, and they, together, spin destiny.
Only in looking back, can there be any awareness, any understanding,
Of what it took for you to have reached this moment,
In your performance, in your spectacle.
And you, its solitary, dispassionate, eternal witness.
* * * *
What would happen if humankind across the world, somehow awakened to its eternal nature?
How would we behave toward each other, and the garden, we have so brought to its knees?
How would we mend ourselves, and the environment, we have so abused and neglected?
What discourse would there be, if vanity and greed no longer spun their absurdities?
What decisions would the species make to become guardians instead of destroyers?
* * * *
Consciousness (a.k.a., imagination), the great usurper,
Is a trickster, a jester, a charlatan, a skalawag, a scoundrel, a pretender,
With every imaginable diversion, every ways and means, every moment, at its beck and call.
Ever enticing the awareness that you are, that you are not,
Away from its eternal nature.
* * * *
Yet another day, same mind, same body, same instincts, same routine, same storyline.
Awareness can do nothing more than witness; it is the unborn-undying, sleepless eye of eternity.
Taking the Red Pill, the no-stone-unturned existence, is a quest to which few are inclined.
Any fallacy, any delusion, any lie, can only usurp the truth in undiscerning minds.
* * * *
Being present in the timeless now, is the most simple state the eternal moment offers.
How ironic, how paradoxical, that it is among the most arduous for imagination to bear,
Given how the breezes and gales of illusion and delusion so easily distract the wavering mind.
* * * *
This here-now, ever-present, eternal moment, this timeless awareness, is all there is.
There are no other moments, no other space-times, no other dimensions, no other dreams.
You are captive to its kaleidoscoping intrigues for as long as the mind-body is fated to endure.
* * * *
After everything is gone, the mystery will remain,
As ineffaceable and untarnished as eternity allows.
* * * *
Awareness is an impenetrable, changeless stillness, both clear and obscure.
It is that in which creation and preservation and destruction compose genesis.
It is the soul of all dreams, it is the source of all potentials, it is the eye of all eyes.
It is the moment, it is timeless, it is spaceless, it is eternity, right here, right now.
* * * *
You have read the books, seen the movies, know the tales of so many histories,
And the oh-so-many-ways people can die, in both fiction and nonfiction,
And how would it be, if you could experience them all, each and every one?
Imagine dying … every … imaginable … death … for all eternity … Ooh-la-la.
* * * *
individual dream of consciousness, of imagination,
Is but an infinitesimal splinter of the grand dream of all dreams,
And that is naught but the very same moment all eternity is,
All that is not, all that never was, all that will never be.
* * * *
If only eternity could tell the full tale,
The mystery’s mysteries would find a resting place.
Meanwhile, dread and speculation and adversity and death will carry on
As they have since the dawn of consciousness.
* * * *
You are the current issue of your genomic lineage
Since the origin of all life several billion orbits around the sun ago.
Every moment of eternal awareness playing out the quantum dream of space and time.
* * * *
Clocks, watches, calendars, or any other measurement device,
Are gauges of illusion, not reality, and most definitely not eternity.
* * * *
How can you continue believing this imaginary self is at all real, is at all true?
It is an ever-kaleidoscoping quantum theater of ecstasy and agony,
Swirled in the nature-nurture dream of the given seed.
Nothing more, nothing less, nothing but.
Without thought, where is time?
Forget everything; unclench your mind.
Let go your world, let go your universe; be eternity.
* * * *
Without thought, where is space, where is time?
Forget everything; unclench the mind.
Let go the world, the universe.
Be the eternal, You are.
Soundbites
Awareness is eternity; without thought, without desire, without passion, without fear, without dread.
* * * *
To be as still as you are able in the given moment, is as close to eternal life as you can get.
* * * *
Eternity is not going anywhere.
* * * *
Still your mind … Eternity is that stillness … Yes, it is that simple.
* * * *
You are eternity; the trick is to be it.
* * * *
This is the only now, this is the only moment, eternity has to offer.
* * * *
Are you right-here-right-now worldly? Or right-here-right-now eternal?
* * * *
Eternity is the omniscient-omnipotent-omnipresent moment; the one and only moment, that has ever been.
* * * *
It is all You, upon every stage, for all of whatever eternity is, and is not.
* * * *
How can the timeless now not be the eternal You?
* * * *
Immortality is the eternal reality, of which all creation is an ever-changing part.
* * * *
Eternity is right here, right now, this very singular, timeless, spaceless moment; cease looking for more.
* * * *
Be eternity.
* * * *
Give your Self over to what You really are, and are not, in this eternal moment.
* * * *
You are forgotten by eternity every moment.
* * * *
If you think life is monotonous, imagine eternity.
* * * *
Eternity is only as boring as the mind you give it.
* * * *
Consciousness, a.k.a. imagination, is far too ephemeral to last long in eternity.
* * * *
What is death but the return to the undivided attention of eternity.
* * * *
What is long ago, what is long hence, in the relativity of the timelessness of eternity?
* * * *
Nothing that has ever happened has had any bearing on the eternal moment.
* * * *
You must listen very closely, to hear the eternal silence.
* * * *
Goals can blind you to the process, the now playing out one eternal moment at a time.
* * * *
The moment is the wave of time and space coursing through eternity.
* * * *
Awareness can do nothing more than witness; it is the unborn-undying, sleepless eye of eternity.
* * * *
Eternity is indeed magical, but it does not take magic to see it.
* * * *
Eternity is closer than you think; certainly, far less than a heartbeat away.
* * * *
Eternity is not a circus; certainly not the one so many two-leggeds make it.
* * * *
How can awareness, how can the moment, how can eternity, be anything but pure?
* * * *
The indelible awareness within is the eye of eternity.
* * * *
This moment, right here, right now, eternity in a nutshell.
* * * *
A gazillion tomorrows will all transpire in the same awareness, the same eternal now.
* * * *
Time is a function of imagination; awareness, a function of eternity.
* * * *
Let go your world, your universe; be eternity.
* * * *
What is eternity? A moment? An hour? A day? A life? Forever? All of the above?
Breadcrumbs
These writings are an offering, a gift, to the eternal life within all creation.
Am I the delusional one for spouting all these thoughts? Or you, for not discerning it?
Or perhaps both, for ever having engaged in this fantastical, utterly improbable dreamtime, at all.
* * * *
This entire adult life has been spent observing, imbibing, exploring, inquiring, whatever came to the door;
To very gradually, very unpretentiously, very unintentionally, very scientifically,
With great naïveté, wander into this eternal conclusion.
It is as honest as honest can be.
* * * *
Eternity is bound by neither space nor time.
* * * *
Still mind, eternal mind.
* * * *
Is it really some ‘me’, some ‘myself’, some ‘I’, who is reading this?
Or is this sense of ‘me’ really nothing more than programmed imagination?
Imagination shrouding the awareness timelessly witnessing this sensory-mind dream.
The awareness eternally witnessing dreamtimes in all sentient beings in which mystery harbors.
What is there to say, but that these musings have all willy-nilly bubbled into the abyss of this mind’s eye,
And then step-by-step morphed from that emptiness, to paper to screen to world-wide web.
Oh, that I could somehow see how they play out in the epoch decline and fall,
That all existence will endure through the dreamtime ahead.
I would hazard a guess that most writers,
Most artists, most creators, of any and all persuasions,
Feel much the same as they watch their creations drift into a future-past
They cannot more than in imagination play out, all the twists, all the turns, of possibility.
* * * *
The eternal philosopher, historian, anthropologist, scientist, mathematician,
And any other academic arenas this mind was drawn to reconnoiter,
All together, pervade the ever-expanding frame of reference.
So full, so empty, an imaginary destiny plays out.