The Unfolding Next Round-10/11/18


Greetings,

Breadcrumbs kicked off in 2015.  This is the most current set of ponderings in process, posted here in case something beyond repair happens to this imaginary Me-My-Self-and-I.  It changes a bit every few daze, so stay tuned as interest allows.  At the close of 2018, they will be filed in their respective Breadcrumbs zones – Leftovers, Soundbites, Possible Titles, Corollaries, Possible Last Words & Epitaphs, Breadcrumbs, Conversations, or Definitions – and then, if the last quarter-plus century of personal history is any indication, another round of dittyfesting will likely relatively quickly blossom from this a-scribing mind.

Link to the PDF of the first nine month of 2018:

The Unfolding Next Round

Link to the PDF of Breadcrumbs 2015 through 2017:

Breadcrumbs

Enjoy in joy as best ye may.

Ciao ciao,

M


LEFTOVERS



What are the vanities – power and fame and fortune – but distractions
From the source of all that is mystery, all that is unknown, all that is eternal.
The impenetrable, ineffaceable, indivisible awareness that is timelessly ever-present.

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Life goes on; there is no stopping it.
Facades and names change, narratives change,
But is ever the same on and on and on,
As timeless as it is time-bound.

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Life is a Rolodex of ever-changing perceptions and values.
How any given mind sees its world is never the same for long.

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Regarding human overpopulation,
It is not just an elephant in the room,
It is an elephant totally filling the room.​

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The dreamer is the dream.
The dream is the dreamer.

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Existence is chock-full of possibilities,
Of which any given mind discerns relatively few
In its relatively brief statistical sampling.

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The Goldilocks Syndrome:
In winter, you miss summer; in spring, you miss autumn;
In summer, you miss winter; in autumn, you miss spring.
Discontent is a time-bound melancholy of its own creation.

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Behind the illusory mask,
Behind the imaginary character,
A space, an emptiness, ever unknowable.

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When mind abides in ever-present awareness,
The world, the universe, as it is known, disappears into timelessness,
And the senses merely function as the un-translated, un-rendered dreammakers they are.

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According to Wikipedia:

Guṇa is a key concept in Hindu philosophy.
Depending on the context, it means "string, thread, strand",
Or "virtue, merit, excellence", or "quality, peculiarity, attribute, property".

According to this worldview, there are three gunas, that have always been,
And continue to be present in all things and beings in the world.

These three gunas are called:

Sattva is goodness, constructive, harmonious.
Rajas is passion, active, confused.
Tamas is darkness, destructive, chaotic.

According to Apple MacBook Pro dictionary:

Sattva is the quality of goodness, positivity, truth, serenity, balance, peacefulness,
and virtuousness that is drawn towards Dharma and Jnana (knowledge).
Rajas is the innate tendency or quality that drives motion, energy and activity.
Tamas is the quality of inertia, inactivity, dullness, or lethargy.

In each and every thing, in each and every being, these forces uniquely blend.

What’s your brew?

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The youthful pursuit of the many pleasures of mind and body
Eventually leads to an endless avoidance of its countlessly wearing,
Exhausting, trying, tiresome, irksome, taxing, draining tortures.

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Those who contemplate thoughts of this nature
Are drawn to discerning and exploring the singularity
In whatever way their nature-nurture dreamtime has in store.

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History is process, and process repeats its patterns, but never goes back.
Square one is a long ago before the ever after of time was ever conceived.

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The greed for more, more, more, and still more,
Is the driving force behind the human paradigm.
To be truly content with one’s lot is rare, indeed.

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Consciousness does not easily give over its delusional dreamtime
To the quietude of its original nature, of its timeless awareness,
In which it hither-thither vainly moves like clouds in the sky.

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Awareness is aware of every point and particle of the manifest dreamtime.
It is aware of every kaleidoscoping matrix quantum moment throughout all eternity.
The many creations it omnisciently witnesses are aware of it only rarely, if ever.
To awaken to the awareness, the indelible mystery within and without,
To wander through the reverie, conscious of the omniscience,
Is a center stage role available to all, but offered to few.

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People come and go in your existence in every imaginable way, from tepid to sweet to bitter.
The brew can be intoxicating or depressing, memorable or scarcely remembered,
But all contribute to your frame of reference, your wily bag of tricks,
Your memories ranging from passionate to indifferent,
From affection to mourning to loathing.
The swirl of thoughts in your mind is but a dream,
But it is how you perceive it, it is how you play it, it is how you roll.

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Any game of monopoly naturally leads to a level of greed
That cannot be undone but by starting over,
And that is only rarely allowed,
And then only through great determination,
Often fused with great violence and even greater suffering.

* * * *
Never too late to expand that self-absorbed horizon,
That frame of reference, that perspective born of limitation,
To which so many so narcissistically, hedonistically, mindlessly cling.

* * * *
Awareness is the unknowable source of all intelligence.
Creation is but the sequential means of its eternal quantum potential
For dreaming whatever its kaleidoscoping matrix of a mystery has in no-mind store.

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That voice in your head is nothing more than a recording
Of imagination’s response to the nature-nurture conditioning.

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Those for whom the limelight is never bright enough,
Those whose avarice can never be satiated,
Those driven to rule over others,
Are caught in a web of self-absorption,
A blaze of vain notion that cannot be quenched,
No matter how inconceivably successful the endeavor.

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Curious so many believe Jesus is going to save them
When he could not even manage to save himself as more than a myth.
Besides which, every living thing already has eternal life,
So what is there to save, what is there to lose?

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To fully perceive that you are not this manifestation is an unending challenge.
The sensory theater is ever an enticing, hypnotic, call of the sirens.
It is not at all easy to meander in unconditional solitude,
Hypnotized as you are by the cultural paradigm
Founded upon a genetic predisposition
Towards interaction with individual and groups,
That spontaneously evolved in the fierce jungles of long ago.

* * * *
What is politics but someone offering others whatever they want,
In exchange for something tangible or intangible in return.
A win-win game for them, and perhaps even for a great many others,
But for the rest, well, they’ll just have to sort it out on their own, won’t they?

* * * *
Many are called, few are chosen, fewer still volunteer.
And however it may unfold, if you are contemplating such as this,
Your fate may well be to be an unfathomable eye of the unfolding dream.


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SOUNDBITES


What is the human paradigm but imagination measuring itself in every way imaginable.
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The dreamer is the dream; the dream is the dreamer.

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It is delusion that hurts, not truth.

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So many of the things we call pleasurable, are they really?

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Death will happen on a day just like today.

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Suspend the animation.

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So many ways to suffer.

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Men create women, women create men, the dynamic is inseparable.

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Pathogens aplenty in this untamable world.

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There’s the rub.

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What is luck but the probability of happenstance working your way.

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Measure, and you shall be measured.

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It has never mattered at all the way you thought.

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Enjoy in joy as best ye may.

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The human paradigm is about itself, not its source.

* * * *
Another day underway.

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Why on any earth would it ever matter what any other thinks of you?

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Vanity kills.

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The unquenchable appetite for power and fame and fortune is unquenchable vanity.

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To know nothing is to know all.

* * * *
Puny human beings.

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The engine in the quest for power and fame and fortune is unquenchable vanity.

* * * *
How can anyone expect to be saved from their own ignorance?

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Living for likes.

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How pathetically small so many minds are inspired to make their universes.


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POSSIBLE TITLES


A Day Just Like Today

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Doom & Gloom

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The Dreamer is the Dream

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The Dream is the Dreamer

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Suspend the Animation

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Futility’s Rainbow

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The Killer Beep

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So Many Ways to Suffer

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Ready or Not

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The Relativity of Consciousness

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The Relativity of Everything

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The Relativity of Anything

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Measure, And You Shall Be Measured

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A New Level of Pathetic

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The Many-Headed Camel

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Call to Destiny

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Pathogens Aplenty

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Enjoy In Joy As Best Ye May

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Dark Daze

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Another Day Underway

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Puny Human Beings

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Many Are Called, Few Are Chosen

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There’s the Rub

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Paradigm Unleashed

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The Human Syndrome

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Vanity Kills

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The Irrelevance of Measurement

* * * *
The Irrelevance of Statistics


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COROLLARIES


Doug Honeywell’s early-on response to these many thoughts:
(Doug was an acquaintance during the late 80’s teaching years
at Jiddu Krishnamurti’s Oak Grove School in Ojai, California)
Nice words, but they don’t do anything for me.
Yaj Ekim’s corollary:
Krishnamurti is a hard act to follow.


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POSSIBLE LAST WORDS & EPITAPHS




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BREADCRUMBS


Oops, got me again.
Paradox and irony rule.

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The Secret Life of Michael

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Doom and gloom, my favorite.

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Well beyond weary I am of this ofttimes torturous mortal shell.

* * * *
Another day underway.

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Cannot save myself, how could I ever save anyone else?


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CONVERSATIONS




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DEFINITIONS




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More soon ... Of that there can be little doubt for as long as these mortal lungs are still drawing air … So stay tuned, you Wascally Wabbit.