The world of words demands that we churn out concepts and assertions mindlessly. Each word creates an image in our visual libraries and memory banks. The bridge of the mind leading out to the vast field of consciousness is so cluttered with verbiage and images that we are stranded there. We are blocked in.
Monk of the World “They have always told me that the first time is the worst, so I should cultivate fear before I jump or enter the freezing torrent
‘There is a room around this song.’ Shocked, she wondered who thought of that? She asked who put this room in this library of other rooms to hold all the
This temptation to ‘identify’ with images we constantly create is our major test as humans!
The erotic burns images into our soul. Or does it simply mirror them?
We cannot embody opinions and knowledge. They are specks of dust, mere material floating in the sunlight, compared with our magical essence of love and light.
Glorious Death? Human beings are curious of and frightened by their own death and the death of others they love. Death is taboo to most of us, and it is understandable that the complete unknown is terrifying so we evade it, clinging to what we know even more tightly.
The only way we can wake up from the terrible dream of life is by taking control and changing the way we see everything: in other words, by investing in our neglected ship and its equipment, especially the sails, instead of the ocean and the weather.
It is my true nature to eternally tend their garden of karma as our seeds ripen and stock dies while they recline on a shady verandah, always watchful.
Our individual good energy temporarily housed in the flesh in the world of form is a prayer, a meditation, a mantra in itself.
