Preface

 

Preface

 

 

Greetings,

 

Writing has been an enjoyable process ever since I first began toying with prose; scribbling poetry, keeping journals, corresponding with friends and acquaintances during the college daze. The philosophical/mystical/whatever-you-want-to-call-them thoughts, that have been popping into mind since 1989, have always been very out-of-the-blue spontaneous. Nothing planned or forced about them. They are being shared on the off chance that others may find them of interest, though, quite frankly, it really does not matter if no one else ever even reads them, for I am, first and foremost, my own audience. I got mine, so to speak. I played my little part. I had my share of fun. And it is, as it has ever been, up to each to discern their own, on their own. There are really no followers in this Don Quixote quest; only earnest seekers, who waylay their desires and fears and dreads, enough to discern that which is the end to doubt, the end to dueling with windmills. “Yay” if it is your fate to figure it out. “Oh well” if it is not. And “so it goes” either way, really. Ecclesiastes 1:2 is always a good reminder: “Vanity of vanities,” saith the Preacher, “Vanity of vanities. All is vanity.” Awareness can only, with great effort, regain control, regain sovereignty, from the usurper, imagination, creator of all that is time, creator of all that is space. Creator of all that is illusion, has never been anything more than illusion, will never be anything more than illusion. Only as real as the given moment.

 

“The Stillness Before Time” is the original work that came together in 1992, including mostly aphorisms, an essay, a newspaper question-and-answer, ten reflections, and lists of both movies and books. Though an early self-published version, long since edited and expanded, can be purchased at major booksellers, a downloadable copy is available, no charge, at the link below. There are also links to a variety of blogs of other creations by me, along with links to many writings of a similar nature, by thinkers and seers from across all times, across all geographies.

 

"The Ponderings of Yaj Ekim" is the second published book, and is both blogged and available as a PDF download.

 

The “Breadcrumbs” titles, published annually since 2015, all include the core chapters: Leftovers, Soundbites, Breadcrumbs. In the Breadcrumbs chapters, I unleash thoughts of a more personal nature than in the other two. All just to show I was ensconced in a living, breathing, relativity mundane, oftentimes foolish, mortal mind-body. An actor playing the hand that was dealt; same as everyone else, vain as everyone else. No need to sculpt me into more than I was. No need for myths, nor legends, nor fables, nor miracles, nor cult followings, nor any other fictions, any other absurdities, over to which the human mind, and all its imaginary history, has so often given itself. The Breadcrumbs chapters prove me again and again to be yet another Shakespearian player, as full of the limited and arbitrary as anyone else born into this dream of space and time. So please be sure not to shape me, or these many random thoughts, into some dogmatic absurdity. Use them as a launchpad, not an orbit.

 

“The Return to Wonder” blog is a compendium of aphorisms not included in the three other works: The Stillness Before Time, The Ponderings of Yaj Ekim, and Breadcrumbs. It originally totaled 3,000 pages formatted in 300 ten-page chapters written since 1990-ish. A gradual editing that will likely never be completed, is changing that dynamic into something of a mishmash.

 

Please note that this sort of wordplay is very haphazard, way too much work to put into any order. Probably best read it in bits and pieces in the here and there. One of those open-to-any-page works. Especially well-suited for coffee shops, coffee tables, and porcelain thrones.

 

Also note that all writings are always subject to updates and editing, so if you are interested in the most current version – before this house of cards comes tumbling down, and the world grows large again – downloading PDF copies every once and a while might be a reasonable discipline. This applies especially to the current year of Breadcrumbs, which could well be an annual project until the last wheezing breath, though frankly, the temptation to stop writing entirely is not off the table. It is a pleasant way to pass some of the countdown remaining, but it is unlikely there is much ground that has not been wandered by this frame of reference far more than enough already. No matter how many times Sisyphus rolls the boulder up the mountain, it is more than a little doubtful that the blind men and their true-believer followers, will ever discern, ever realize, ever embrace, the elephant in the middle of the room, without fabricating some new form of absurdity. It is the way we roll, it is the way we have always rolled, it is the way we will, far more than probably, always roll. Every species has its limitations, and we have in this mind’s eye, far-exceeded ours.

 

That said, if you do find these many thoughts at all worth preserving, for whatever times are ahead for this world and all its life forms, please feel free to share them with others who might also appreciate them. Else they may well swiftly slip back into the timeless oblivion from whence they came.

 

So it goes, either way. I played my part, I said my piece, I had my fun.

 

All the best,

 

M

 

 

P.S. For best viewing online, using the largest screen you have available to explore my little theme park, is suggested. Scrolling down and down on a phone screen is just not going to give you the same entrée.

 

P.P.S. Regarding the name Yaj Ekim ... It is just a reverse spelling of the first and middle names ... Michael Jay Holshouser ... Mike Jay ... Yaj Ekim.

 

P.P.P.S. Coincidently, make of it whatever you will, or will not, Yaj is an Indian boy’s name meaning worshipper, sacrifice, another name for Shiva, a sage. And Ekim is a Turkish name for October meaning “sowing” (of seeds). All kinds of absurdity can be read into that by the many, so-inclined – none of which was in mind when the idea came to reverse the letters to my name. See P.P.S. for details.

 

P.P.P.P.S. Yes, I am Shiva. And so are You. No, I am not Shiva. And neither are you. Irony and paradox rule.

 

 

 

The Stillness Before Time

Reflections From a Fellow Sojourner
 
 

Website
 
The Stillness Before Time
Reflections From a Fellow Sojourner
https://thestillnessbeforetime.com/

 

There is really only one Way.

It is without division or boundary.

It is without name or theology.

Awareness is its scripture.

Here now, its venue.

You, its witness.

Your life, the journey.

 
A PDF is available at:
https://thestillnessbeforetime.com/thestillnessbeforetime.pdf

 

 

One Through Thirty
 
One * 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 * Thirty

 
 
Essays
 
Of the Human Journey
 
Got God?
 
Ten Reflections
 
 
Blog and PDF
 
Blog * PDF
 
 
Other Resources
 
Books * Movies * Links * Blogs
 
 
Main Blogs & PDF's
 
(All blogs and PDF's subject to change, so stay tuned)
 
The Stillness Before Time
Reflections From a Fellow Sojourner
Blog * PDF
 
The Ponderings of Yaj Ekim
Blog * PDF
 
Breadcrumbs 2015
Bits and Pieces From a Dream of Time
Blog * PDF
 
Breadcrumbs 2018
Bits and Pieces From a Dream of Time
Blog * PDF
 
Breadcrumbs 2019
Bits and Pieces From a Dream of Time
Blog * PDF
 
Breadcrumbs 2020
Bits and Pieces From a Dream of Time
Blog * PDF
 
Breadcrumbs 2021
Bits and Pieces From a Dream of Time
Blog * PDF
 
Breadcrumbs 2022
Bits and Pieces From a Dream of Time
Blog * PDF
 
Breadcrumbs 2023 & Beyond
Bits and Pieces From a Dream of Time
Blog * PDF
 
The Return to Wonder
Field Notes From the Unknown
(Major edit underway -- Edited copy colored blue)
Blog * PDF
 
 
Blogs & PDF's of Other Works
 
Michael's Rabbit Hole
A Selection of Breadcrumbs & Other Aphorisms
Blog * PDF
 
The Call of the Eternal
A Conversation With My Self
Blog * PDF
 
Imagination: The Great Usurper
Blog * PDF
 
Lost in Translation
The Human Paradigm's Linguistic Muddle
Blog * PDF
 
The Gordian Knot of Ethical Thinking
Blog * PDF
 
Jesus on Prophets
What Any Seer Likely Faces Returning to the Cave of Origin
Blog * PDF
 
Aftershocks Autumn 2024
Blog * PDF
 
Of Meaning and Purpose
Ponderings About the Futility of It All
Blog * PDF

 

Frames of Reference
Peering Through the Windows of Perception
Blog * PDF
 
Mystery, Mystery & More Mystery
Blog * PDF
 
Imagination, Imagination & More Imagination
Blog * PDF
 
Doubt, Doubt & More Doubt
Blog * PDF
 
Science, Science & More Science
Blog * PDF
 
History, History & More History
Blog * PDF
 
Patterns, Patterns & More Patterns
Blog * PDF
 
Reincarnation, Reincarnation & More Reincarnation
Blog * PDF
 
Standouts From the Return to Wonder Edit
Selections From the First Sixteen Chapters
Blog * PDF
 
Of the Human Journey
Along with Got God? And Ten Reflections
Blog * PDF
 
To Be or Not to Be
Blog * PDF
 
The Mystery of the Mystery
Blog * PDF
 
Who Was the First?
Blog * PDF
 
The Real is Discovering
Blog * PDF
 
59 Moments to The Way It Is (And Is Not)
The Scribe's Guide to the Great Whatthe#$*!?
Blog * PDF
 
Definitions
An Incomplete Selection 0f Contemplative Definitions
Blog * PDF
 
Conversations
A Variety of Letters, Emails, Texts, & Sundry Odd 'n Ends
Blog * PDF
 
Titles, Titles & More Titles
Blog * PDF
 
Even More

Titles, Titles & More Titles
Blog * PDF
 
Sketches of the Once Upon a Time
A Few Epiphanies and Other Hallmark Moments
Blog * PDF
 
The Corollaries of Yaj Ekim
Blog * PDF
 
Possible Last Words & Epitaphs
Blog * PDF
 
The Standard Ripostes
The Scribe's Go-to Responses to This and That in the Day-To-Day
Blog * PDF
 
My (Not Quite) Haiku
Blog * PDF
 
Jester Amok
Blog * Facebook * Facebook (Original)
 
Uncle Sam Says
Blog * Facebook
 
Once Upon a Christmas
Blog * PDF
 
Ditties for the Bluegrass Pyre
Blog * PDF
 
A Short List of Books for the Up and Coming
Some Written Works That May Help Get the Young up to Speed
Blog * PDF
 
Spam Responses (a.k.a., WTF Is This Shit!?)
Blog * PDF
 
 
A Collection of Miscellaneous Creations
 
Final Exit and Related Links
 
COVID-19 Information Links
 
The Blind Men and the Elephant
 
Of A Philosophical Nature
 
The Four Agreements
 
The Joyful Curmudgeon
 
12 Rules You Can Live By
 
Quotes, Quotes & More Quotes
 
Fichier Circulaire de Michael
 
How to Work in Any Environment
 
50 Rules Kids Won't Learn in School
 
Election 2016: The Rise (and Fall?) of Donald Trump
 
Michael's Little Warehouse of All Things Amusing, Absurd & Profound
 
 
Other Blogs and PDF's by Michael
 
Other Blogs and PDF's by Michael
 
 
Facebook
 
Michael Holshouser
 
Fichier Circulaire de Michael
(Michael's Circular File)
 
Yaj Ekim
 
 
Twitter/X
 
@YajEkim
 
 
Instagram
 
Michael Holshouser

 

 

Nine Translations of the Ashtavakra Gita
 
The Heart of Awareness (Byrom)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Marshall)
 
Bitten by the Black Snake (Schoch)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Richards)
 
A Duet of One (Balsekar)
 
Astavakra Samhita (Wood)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Shastri)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Saraswati)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Vedic Scriptures)
 
 
PDF's of Nine Translations of the Ashtavakra Gita
 
The Heart of Awareness (Byrom)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Marshall)
 
Bitten by the Black Snake (Schoch)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Richards)
 
A Duet of One (Balsekar)
 
Astavakra Samhita (Wood)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Shastri)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Saraswati)
 
Ashtavakra Gita (Vedic Scriptures)
 
 
Ashtavakra Gita: I Am Shiva
 
Ashtavakra Gita: I Am Shiva
 
 
PDF's of Ashtavakra Gita: I Am Shiva
 
Ashtavakra Gita: I Am Shiva
 
I Am Shiva Comparison Chart
 
 
Four Translations of the Avadhuta Gita
 
Avadhuta Gita: Song of the Ever-Free (Marshall)
 
Song of the Avadhut (Abhayananda)
 
Avadhut Gita (Shastri)
 
Avadhuta Gita: The Song of the Ascetic (Sinha)
 
 
PDF's of Four Translations of the Avadhuta Gita
 
Avadhuta Gita: Song of the Ever-Free (Marshall)
 
Song of the Avadhut (Abhayananda)
 
Avadhut Gita (Shastri)
 
Avadhuta Gita: The Song of the Ascetic (Sinha)
 
 
Translations of Other Ancient Writings
 
Tao Te Ching: Verse One
 
Tao Te Ching (Marshall)
 
Bhagavad Gita (Marshall)
 
Yoga Sutras (Marshall)
 
Dhammapada (Marshall)
 
Ecclesiastes (Marshall)
 
Atma Bodha (Chinmayananda)
 
The Essence of the Ribhu Gitaj (Aiyer)
 
Yoga Vasishta Sara (Ramasramam)
 
Crest-Jewel of Discrimination (Madhavananda)
 
Mandukya Upanishad & Mandukya Karika of Gaudapada (Panoli)
 
Gaudapada: Advaita Vedanta's First Philosopher (Jones)
 
 
Translations of Ancient Writings by Bart Marshall
 
Avadhuta Gita: Song of the Ever-Free
 
Ashtavakra Gita
 
Tao Te Ching
 
Bhagavad Gita
 
Yoga Sutras
 
Dhammapada
 
Ecclesiastes
 
 
Writings by Bart Marshall
 
Verses Regarding True Nature
 
One Hundred Two Haiku 

 

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Breadcrumbs: The Original Blog

Bits and Pieces from a Dream of Time

© Michael J. Holshouser 2015

World Rights Reserved

 

Michael J. Holshouser

1112 Cedar Creek Drive, Unit 4

Modesto, California 95355-5213

The United States of America

mjholshouser@gmail.com

 

Pronunciation: Holtzhowzer

 

All have the express written encouragement

To distribute this creation freely to any and all

Who have the eyes to see and the ears to hear

The mystery in which each and every one

Equally participates in so many ways

Leftovers

Leftovers

This is a Leftovers sampler.  For the full monty from 2015 on, see the Breadcrumbs blog links below.

PDF’s for each year are available in the Preface sections of each blog.

Breadcrumbs 2015
Bits and Pieces from a Dream of Time
https://breadcrumbs2015.blogspot.com/

Breadcrumbs 2018

Bits and Pieces from a Dream of Time
https://breadcrumbs2018.blogspot.com/

Breadcrumbs 2019
Bits and Pieces from a Dream of Time
https://breadcrumbs2019.blogspot.com/

Breadcrumbs 2020
Bits and Pieces from a Dream of Time
https://breadcrumbs2020yajekim.blogspot.com/

Breadcrumbs 2021
Bits and Pieces from a Dream of Time
https://breadcrumbs2021.blogspot.com/

Breadcrumbs 2022
Bits and Pieces from a Dream of Time
https://breadcrumbs2022.blogspot.com/

Breadcrumbs 2023 & Beyond

Bits and Pieces From a Dream of Time

https://breadcrumbs2023.blogspot.com/

To become a skeptic, a cynic, a doubter, an agnostic, one becomes an adversary of delusion,

An antagonist to the fallacies of mythology, superstition, and other cultural assumptions.

The mind of the critical thinker is its own reflection of what is real, and what is not.

* * * *

What hope can there be for harmony in a world swirled and hurled asunder

By the exponentially accelerating technologies of death and mayhem.

War is peace in this Darwinian leap into the survival of the fittest.

And those who endure, those who abide the dystopian future,

Are not necessarily the stronger, or the more intelligent,

But those most adaptable to the pendulum of time.

* * * *

No matter how assiduously one may give heart and mind

Over to some idea, some creed, some meme, some groupthink,

No individual existence can ever be close to being exactly the same.

Despite all thought and done, all are exclusive blends of the same stardust.

* * * *

The personal pronouns – I, you, he, she, it, we, they, me, him, her, us, them –

Should be considered in all these thoughts rather loosely used,

Given that “we” are really nothing more than the nothingnesss of awareness,

Playing a game of charades conditioned by time, drawing toward a whimpering conclusion.

* * * *

Measuring our decline one graph at a time;

Kind of like an already bad poker hand that only draws worse.

The good news is that we will be leaving behind a prodigious collection of videos

For the extraterrestrials to check out when they finally show up.

* * * *

Best to be somewhat cautious with that body.

It is the only one you will have on this relatively brief journey.

It is more than a little fun to toss it around and gratify it with every form of indulgence,

But know that there are many consequences to each of the deadly sins.

Pride, envy, gluttony, lust, wrath, greed, and sloth,

Should never to be taken lightly.

* * * *

The grace of youth, the wonder of innocence, sooner or later, quickly or slowly,

Gives way to the inevitable decline and fall of sickness, injury, aging and dying.

The end of all entitlement, no matter how grand, is most assuredly guaranteed.

* * * *

The idolatry of form has drawn many a mind throughout the rise of humankind.

How many whimsical notions have been fabricated across the world,

Faces we can see rather than the one and only we cannot.

* * * *

Is money to be considered an end, a raison d'être, in itself,

Or a means to survive, a means to experience one’s fleeting existence,

In as many satisfying, entertaining, hedonistic, even enlightening ways, as possible?

* * * *

What is light?  What is dark?  What is good?  What is evil?

What is right?  What is wrong?  What is agony?  What is ecstasy?

And what is the impenetrable awareness permeating all things imagined?

* * * *

Likely not many are watching you, or thinking about you,

Near as much as your monkey-mind might choose to believe.

You are only the center of your imaginary version of the universe.

* * * *

How can there be even a trace of loneliness

Once the eternal aloneness of the ultimate nature is discerned?

It is not a thing to be dreaded or forestalled once the monkey-mind is transcended.

Embracing its indivisible sanctity is the truest religion.

* * * *

Sophistication in any field of endeavor

Is a matter of how the given capacities and limitations

Double-double-toil-and-trouble their way into conscious awareness.

Who are the most skillful but the few-and-far-between giving their fullest attention.

* * * *

So what?

To everything.

* * * *

For as long as there is air, and a body-mind bent on existing,

You are free to breathe it in and breathe and it out,

A witness to the mystery beyond measure.

Enjoy in joy as best ye are able.

* * * *

The scientific mind is ever observing,

Ever exploring everything in everyway imaginable.

True science is transcends all boundaries.

* * * *

Your only constraint is being locked up in the temporal body.

The indivisible youness you really are knows no bounds.

Only imagination binds itself to the given universe.

* * * *

There are no exceptions, no exemptions, no get-out-of-jail cards.

All are destined for one expiration date or another.

More certain than taxes, to be sure.

* * * *

We are all the center of our unique little dream; every conscious thing is.

None can be the same, no matter how diligent the effort,

And why even try?  Why even bother?

* * * *

Narcissism is defined as the pursuit of gratification
From vanity or egotisic admiration of one's own attributes.
If you are past all that, if you have transcended the given mind-body,
Why should you not esteem your essential Self with every ounce of your being?

* * * *

The thoughts of time mixed and remixed times beyond counting.

Who knows what was scribbled when or where,

And why would it matter?

Wisdom is the coin of eternity.

* * * *

Consciousness is capable of anything imagination can conceive and physics allow.

It boils down to playing out the blueprint, the programming,

Of the given seed line as it sprouts into time.

* * * *

What is an orgasm but the mind’s most innate high,

A very present, very pleasurable detonation in the timeless now.

A disintegration, a dissolution, of any sense of self, of any sense of separation.

Is it any wonder our species gallops the edge of obsession about everything to do with it?

Sexuality is the wellspring, the underlying force, the fulcrum of human history.

Power, renown, prosperity, the creativity of art, science, technology,

All have come about as aphrodisiacs to its gratification.

And all of it the evolutionary outcome

Of the genomic ambition to abide evermore.

* * * *

So many faces come and gone in the rolodex of life.

So many moments spent together, so many things shared.

What happened to them all, what stories unfolded into destiny?

The things we can never know of our dreamtime are many and large.

* * * *

Every eye, a subjective filter.

Objectivity is the ruse of idealistic notion.

No matter how detached, how indifferent the endeavor,

It is ever seen through the personal coloring of the conditioned mind.

* * * *

What are all human beings but liars, cheats, thieves, murderers, and anarchists.

At the cradle of the genetic lottery, we are the jungle from which we were spun.

* * * *

What is so dysfunctional, so surreal, about the human species,

Is its obsession with what others think, and what others think about them.

Groupthink has been a mainstay of our survival in this dreamtime,

But its interminable absurdities are beyond measure.

* * * *

Existence creates many questions, answers to which often raise many more,

And on and on knowledge bounds into its fabricated future.

What is the parable of Adam and Eve

But the plucking of knowledge from the garden,

And then carrying on with whatever its imaginary whirl concocted,

Eventually swirling into the marvel and madness of these our so-called modern times.

* * * *

Unless you have managed to achieve the higher percentiles,

Best to be practical and frugal, best to live within your means.

Exorbitant debt can get unmanageably ugly way too very quickly.

* * * *

This universe, this world, was not created by meekness,

By fear, by hope, by political correctness, by any absurdity whatsoever.

The vagaries of the human condition are but a hiccup in the unfolding eternal theater.

* * * *

Is the me you think you know, the me I think I am?

Of course not, nor would the visa-versa ever be bona fide, either.

We are all one-of-a-kind imaginary universes, each and every one at center stage,

All of it happening in a quantum sort-of-maybe indivisible way.

* * * *

Consciousness is an insatiable force.

Were it to heartily devour the entire universe,

Were it to experience absolutely everything imaginable,

It would not be enough, it would still yearn for more, more, more.

* * * *

Same old story in yet another tale.

The cast, the crew, the stage, has changed,

But the patterned narrative is very much the same.

* * * *

A great curiosity, a great absurdity, about this two-legged drama,

Is why so many are so concerned what others think or do.

What is all this judgment but a survival mechanism

Bred into being in the jungles of long ago.

Yay or nay, it is ever entangling.

* * * *

All concepts, whether of some god,

A horse, a chair, a rock, a star, or some abstract quantum formula,

Are born of limitation because they can never be more than formulations of temporal consciousness.

No sound will ever be more than a vibration, no perception will ever be tangible,

Including the you that you in mind-body believe so real.

It is all a dream born if imagination.

* * * *

If history has proven anything,

It is that far too many always manage

To talk themselves into just about anything.

* * * *

Very dubious whether our seemingly innate attachment to the past,

To whatever tradition, to whatever time and geography, we might subscribe,

Is leaving many if any real options in the future just round the bend.

* * * *

If there is a purpose in all this, then surely this here, this now, is it.

An immense theater in which you, a drop in all, are the all in a drop.

The real and only you, sovereign, absolute, indivisibly immaculate.

* * * *

Imagine all the life forms on this garden planet,

And realize that you are of the same clayness as each and every one.

Look out into the sea of stars, and discern the same.

All are cousins of the same source.

* * * *

Every geography in its own time is its own brand of modern,

All likely equally resistant to other renderings of the same.

* * * *

Nature’s dogma is the unwritten law determined and enforced by quantum mechanics:

Irrevocable, irreversible, unalterable, unchangeable, immutable, undeniable,

Incontrovertible, indisputable, permanent, binding, absolute, final.

* * * *

Time to get another trim, cut another nail.

Time to eat another steak, drink another bottle of wine.

Time to take another jaunt, another walk, another shit, another piss.

Time to fill another form, smog another car, pay another bill, lace up another shoe.

Time to abide another debate, cast another stone, suffer another injury, endure another death.

How many times does one need to do something to catch the drift?

* * * *

Who contemplates?

Who perceives?

Who knows?

Who cares?

Who feels?

Who loves?

Who hates?

Who believes?

Who does anything?

* * * *

Somewhere in time, somewhere in space,

Some mind first said it, first wrote it, first built it,

Different mind, same mind, all derived of the same essence.

* * * *

Assuming any survive the dystopian now daily unfolding,

They will be walking in the ruins of greed and self-absorption

Unlike which the world and all its critters have ever seen.

* * * *

Ultimately, the final chore is to let go

All you have done, all you have not done,

All that the world is, all that the world is not,

And just quietly wander in unutterable solitude.

* * * *

You are but a fleeting window in the seed principle’s theater of dreamtime.

Think what you will of its inexplicable mystery, you are but a player,

And all your conclusions, all your assumptions, mean nothing.

* * * *

Quantifying, measuring everything imaginable, what is the point, really?

Being ever-present with this inexplicable sojourn,

Now that is a challenge, indeed.

* * * *

Science and technology stand on the shoulders of all those who have come before.

Turtles all the way down, and all the way up, too, for as long as the dream plays out.

* * * *

Time and space is but a mortal fabrication of neuron trails and memory cells.

The nothing more, nothing less of quantum vapor playing the indivisible real.

* * * *

So many haranguing from some pulpit in their mind: ‘Don’t do this, don’t do that.’

All based on utterly absurd, often contradictory notions written thousand of years ago,

Warnings of a go-directly-to-hell naughty list kept by some Santa Claus up in the clouds.

Well, any defensive lineman worth his salt knows to shove back or sally around the block.

There is not any doctrine, any on-high authority, that means squat to those bent on discovery.

* * * *

If you take your body, your vehicle, your temple, your meat machine, for granted,

It will only be too unhappy to again and again, in many ways,

Remind you of the error of your ways.

* * * *

Different geographies, different cultures, different languages, different livelihoods, different clothes,

Different foods, different sports, different creeds, different absurdities,

Different this, that, and the other thing,

Same monkey.

* * * *

And what would this inane world be like if we all respected each other,

If we all treated one another as we would ourselves choose to be treated?

Is the so-called Golden Rule anything more than an ideal, a soporific notion,

To which vanity only rarely allows more than lip service be paid.

* * * *

Revenge has a long memory,

And it is only through self-restraint

That it is not severely exacted at some point.

How many are fortunate that they have not endured

What others have contemplated with one apparatus or another.

* * * *

What curious thing how flesh can in one instance be so enticing,

And in another be only just a few clicks short of horrifying.

Everything abides in one slice of relativity or another.

Perception is all, and all must endure one way or another.

* * * *

Not even one moment in your entire existence has ever been more than a dream.

None of it has ever been truly real but for the ephemeral nothingness

That is as close to “reality” as this mystery can ever be.

* * * *

What solution can there be to the interminability of it all,

When the universe you were in no longer exists.

When you are, each and every moment,

Ever streaming past the point of no return.

* * * *

Human beings are absolutely no different

Than any other biological entities in this manifest realm,

And we will, each and every one of us, disincorporate the same as every other

In Mother Nature’s magically indifferent dream of time.

* * * *

So many interesting things to do in life

That are entirely satisfied by a spoonful of imagination,

The real thing often being far too out of reach,

Or too bothersome to bother doing.

* * * *

So many wandering about,

Regurgitating one blather or another,

When right smack dab in the middle of their mind

Is the most inexplicable mystery they could ever hope to discern.

* * * *

Time travel?  Get real.

How can you cross something that does not exist

As anything more than an imaginary notion?

* * * *

To exist free of vanity is a rare feat, indeed, and more often than not only in deep sleep.

Whether it is even possible on more than sporadic occasions when awake

Might well be cause for the greatest vanity possible,

And even get you dangled on a cross or molded into a statue.

* * * *

Those hairy things that swing from branch to branch, yes, you are closely related.

What is a few million years of evolution when you are really talking

The billions it took to build the stage in the first place.

* * * *

There is little or no point in trying to explain or justify anything to anyone, really.

May as well remain mute to those who will never understand the inner quest.

The apologist for the ephemeral is ultimately only babbling away to Self.

* * * *

As perfect as the word, the number, the note, the line, the hue, might be,

It is instantly but a perception forever caught in the amber of imagination.

* * * *

Everyone believes whatever falsehoods they want to believe,

Until doubt perhaps slowly sprouts in one cranny, one nook or another.

And from that moment on, who knows where the long and winding road will lead.

* * * *

The task is to discern the nature of heaven in the hell humankind has made of paradise.

There is no god, no devil, there is no good, no evil, there is only consciousness imagining all.

And you are really very much on your own in figuring it out in whatever way suits you.

* * * *

Words, numbers, notes, lines,

And other such conceptual intrigues

Are the endless playground of imagination.

They cavort with nothing to their heart’s content.

* * * *

If you are acting out some dogma you are beating a wrong tack.

There is no right way, there is no wrong way,

There is only the Way.

* * * *

What a tale to tell of all these overlapping monopoly games

Striving for pride’s supremacy in the Game of Mammon,

Which we must all play – like it or no – to some degree.

* * * *

What we call goodness is consciousness without ulterior motive.

What we call evil is consciousness distorted by perception

Into every imaginable contortion of self absorption.

* * * *

The Seventh Day was much more a paradise

Than the human mind has fashioned in the Eighth.

And the Ninth is coming up to bat, the Tenth is on deck,

And what roster will play beyond that, only the mystery knows.

* * * *

Rest as easy as the abrasive traces of the mind-body allow

In all the tensions your existence has inspired in its neurological frame.

It is the anxiety all life forms balance in order to survive,

In order to propagate a future for its kind.

* * * *

Best not to declare most anything impossible,

For there always seems to be someone in one cubicle or another

Looking to find a way to prove you wrong yet again.

* * * *

Why should you not be somewhat irritated, frustrated, irascible,

That your innocence was defiled, corrupted, maligned,

By the wearing quagmire of human inanity?

* * * *

“It is this way,” said one. “No, it is this way,” asserted another.

“No, it is neither of those ways, it is this way,” argued yet another.

And on and on and on, in the all right and all wrong of all who bother.

* * * *

Religious fervor ebbs and flows, rises and falls, in the bell curves of time.

Eternal life is the essence, the genesis, of the ever-present now,

The born again-ness of each and every moment.

* * * *

To consciously be the light unto thy Self,

Is up to you, and you alone, to explore and discover.

An ever-present journey through a long and winding mind, to be sure.

* * * *

What need for worship, for piety, for virtue,

For belief, for faith, for dogma, for idolatry, for ritual,

Once you have discerned what you truly are is prior to all creation.

* * * *

Even the intelligent, the honorable, the healthy, the beautiful, the loving,

Earn the undivided attention of maggots and other experts of obliteration.

* * * *

Meditation is suspending the worldly attributes fabricated by the sensory mind,

And instead wandering about in the timeless indivisibility of the quantum ether.

* * * *

So many distractions this manifest creation offers:

Tangible and intangible, in every ways and means imaginable.

But what is a Self to do when all become so passé,

When even watching it is bother.

* * * *

The body may exist, the mind may think, but is it really you doing any of it?

Are you really any more than witness to the given nature-nurture?

Attached only to the mesmerizing churning of the senses,

And the innumerable vain notions they parlay?

* * * * * * * * * *

Leftovers

© Michael J. Holshouser 2015

World Rights Reserved