Archive for January, 2014

Being centered in the midst of circumstances

Centered

Unfortunately most do not teach the essence of Tai Chi, Chi Gong, Yoga or any method/practice for reaching the most unified state possible. People want to learn forms and to put a label on everything.
The Tao cannot be attained without a body.
Truth cannot be attained as long as there is a physical body.
We need the body to become realized beings. To completely understand the Way of things and ultimate truth, there cannot be a physical form.

Discipline, concentration, and insight are the three essentials.
Being centered in the midst of circumstances, is finding the mysterious pass. Clarifying the mind, is miraculous experience. Seeing the essence of mind, is crystallization of spirit. Merging mind, body, and spirit into one completely unified state existing in harmony, is refining the immortalized consciousness.
Having a body outside the body, is release from the matrix.
Breaking through space/time is perfect attainment/enlightenment.

When accomplishment is fulfilled in spiritual practice, character is well developed and one directly transcends to completion all at once; physically and spiritually sublimated, one merges with the Tao in reality.

Video

The fairy tale of Beeping Sleuty

The Story of Rindercella

The Story of Rindercella

Intro: Peacorn! Popnuts! Chewing Can! and Gumdy!….Have you ever heard about spoonerisms? Well, now let me tell you the story about Rindercella…

Once apon a time, in a coreign fountry, there lived a very geautiful birl; her name was Rindercella. Now, Rindercella lived with her mugly other and her two sad bisters. And in that same coreign fountry, there lived a very prandsom hince.

One day, the prandsom hince decided to have a bancy fall. He invited people from riles amound, especially the pich reople. But Rindercella could not go because all she had to wear were some old rirty dags. So she just cats down and scried. She was a kitten there a scrien, when all of a sudden her gairy fodmother appeared. And she waived her wagic mand…and all of a sudden there appeared before her, a cig boach and hix white sorces to take her to the bancy fall. But now she said to Rindercella, “Rindercella, you must be home before nidmight, or I’ll purn you into a tumpkin!”

So Rindercella went to the bancy fall, where she met the very prandsom hince, who she had been watchin through a widden hindow. She and the prandsom hince nanced all dight till nidmight…and they lell in fove. Suddenly, the mid clock struck night; Rindercella staced down the rairs, and just as she beached the rottom, she slopped her dripper!

The next day, the prandsom hince went all over the coreign fountry looking for the geautiful birl who had slopped her dripper. He came to Rindercella’s house. He tried it on Rendercella’s mugly other…and it fidn’t dit. He tried it on her two sigly usters…and it fidn’t dit. He tried it on Rindercella…and it fid dit, it was exactly the sight rize!

The next day, Rindercella and the prandsom hince were married and they lived everly hafter happward.

Now, the moral of the story is this: If you ever loll in fove with a prandsom hince, be sure and slop your dripper!

 

A constant process without accumulation

Zen-Circle-ZEN-BUDDHIST

First of all, what is meant by learning? I am not offering an opinion, I am looking at the fact. Is learning a process of accumulation of knowledge? From that knowledge I act; that is, I have stored up experiences, memories, and from that I act. Or, is learning a constant process without accumulation and therefore learning is acting? Go slowly, I’ll go into it. It is not that I first learn and then act according to what I have learnt, but learning is acting; the learning is not separate from acting.

One is going to learn about fear, or about what to do, how to live. But if you have a system that tells you how to live, or a method that says, “Live this way”, then you are conforming to the method which is established by somebody else. Therefore you are not learning, you are conforming and acting according to a pattern, which is not action at all, it is just imitation. So if you learn what are the implications of methods, or of systems, then you will put away methods and systems; then you are learning about what you are doing and the very learning about life is the activity of life – right? Have I made it clear? Living, learning and acting are not three separate things, they are indivisible.

A state of meditation

SeatedBuddha01

Doesn’t awareness, doesn’t understanding take place when the mind is not drawing a conclusion, has no opinion, when the mind is attentively listening, and then it says “I have understood”? I am asking, what is the state of that mind which says “I have understood” and therefore acts immediately. Surely such a state of mind is complete silence in which there is no opinion, in which there is no judgment, no evaluation. It is actually listening out of silence. And IT is only then that we understand something in which thought is not involved at all. I won’t now go into what thought is and the whole process of thinking; that will need a lot of time and this is not the occasion.

When I talk about understanding, surely it takes place only when the mind listens completely – the mind being your heart, your nerves, your ears – when you give your whole attention to it. I do not know if you have ever noticed that when you give total attention(single pointed awareness) there is complete silence. And in that attention there is no frontier, there is no center, as the “me” who is aware or attentive. That attention, that silence, is a state of meditation. When you are listening to somebody, completely, attentively, then you are listening not only to the words, but also the feeling of what is being conveyed to the whole of it not part of it.

A metamorphosis that the butterflies imagine

Dragon Kundalini

Every single night I pray;
my letters form a kiss.
IT blows through the wind, until it rests upon lips.

A metamorphosis that the butterflies imagine,
in an undecided fashion, when weather storms permit.
She settles scores with this and I just sit enchanted;
fireflies dance, until her wish is granted.
I listen frantic, to melodies of heartbreak.
IT feels so temporary, but she’s telling me IT’s always.
I’d die in hell, so my angel’s not alone.
And I’d swim in the mud, for a fatal drop of hope.

I dance to the chorus when the rain hits the solitude.
IT breaks into molecules; that’s her.
Another piece of me, that feels but can’t hurt.
I stand firm, in this apocalyptic breeze.
Until I finally fall apart and my confidence is breached;
And I’m gone..

Hear the sounds of a thousand broken spirits;
a man who wouldn’t lie and a crowd who won’t endear it.
Confessions of a clown that’s sounding so sincere,
when forced to always face the ground.

I wrote it down in quotes and lyrics.
I’ve got a ghost, but he never stays in touch.
Another hole to dig and another grave to love;
another fifth is gone, another day that sucks.
Another dream is dead as the summer fades to dusk.

All I heard was the moon

homage-to-mahakala-ll

No I in me.
Straightened out while the skeleton spun scripture in stone.
All I heard was the moon.
Can’t interpret or understand flow, unless you know
the misty, mystic condensation of clouds;
gravity must be joking, as the sky begins to change.

I spread intuit, breathing electrical words in a vertebrae circle;
concentrating data while I download IT into the system.
Mind erasing, I’m tasting thoughts and smelling what you hear;
like it, like it ravages.
They stole my metal exoskeleton while
I walked out of sunlight into your darker dimension.
Two inches from the granite, I had to grab and grit.
Manage till you stand in your metabolism,
without ‘isms.

Un-limits of my super-conscious melon,
mango squeezes cold silver into gold.
I’m chiseled on the side of the moon.
The star spoke,
and even galaxies empty and crash like car collisions.

Whistling heavy tunes because of piercing wounds,
I tilt and turn soul across the molded earth before IT is one big radioactive hole.
In the underground city,
rat swarms roll downhill like, hold it down and kill or be killed.
The drunken man laughs in the street with beautiful hysteria.

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