The Return to Wonder
V
No pleasure or pain can ever touch what you really are.
Even in the face of torturous physical suffering,
Detached awareness is quiet witness.
* * * *
Quietly accept what is offered.
Do not seek anything requiring extremes.
Travel a path of moderation.
VIII
One day you will perhaps find craving,
Other than for the most essential necessities,
Slowly, quietly, without fanfare, just burns itself out.
XII
To give attention to the ephemeral eternal moment
Is a busy-busy, measuring-measuring mind’s most arduous task.
The imaginary past and its countless projected futures stoke far too much passion
For the quietude of eternity to be allotted its true autonomy.
XIII
Some call it this, some call it that.
Words, words, words; sounds given conceptual overlays.
The nothingness given meaning, given purpose; identity it neither needs nor requires.
The busy-busy cacophony of the human mind’s unceasing obsession,
With re-hashing everything in its own muddle.
XVI
The mind-body identity ever seeks fulfillment.
It is the intertwining of insatiable desires and trammeling fears.
The quietude of awareness is the oblivion of origin,
Well prior to all mortal trepidations.
Dive beneath the choppy waves of the mind's reefs,
Into the silent, serene depths of eternal beingness.
XXI
Expand into the quietude of no other.
* * * *
It is that essence, that quietude, that awareness within, that you must embrace.
XXIII
Attachment to any teacher or teaching,
To any philosophy or organization,
Creates a separation, a denial that truth,
May manifest in a diverse infinity of appearances.
Only the silent ear and the inner eye witnesses their total reality.
XXIV
Whether in tranquility or turmoil, You are the silence observing the senses.
XXVI
When it is identity looking through your eyes, there is an angst.
When it is isness, there is simply a stillness, a silent awareness.
* * * *
As far as your vision dares travel,
You will see the reality of absoluteness,
The quiet serenity you truly ever are.
XXIX
How slowly can you chew and breathe and walk?
How still can you sit? How silently can you witness?
XXX
You can continue meditating and wandering quietly about, once you have awoken to the eternal nature;
But for many, realization is too pleasant a vintage, not to want to offer a round to those you happen upon.
XXXII
The answer to hell is silent stillness.
* * * *
Even in a space chock-full of noise,
There is the silence within and without.
* * * *
In those quiet moments,
When You are offstage alone,
Do You remove the mask within?
* * * *
The delusional mind is so easily distracted by chatter,
So willingly eager to babble about anything and everything,
In its avoidance of the timelessly silent aloneness within.
XXXIV
It is your longing for truth that manifests the silence.
XXXV
Could desire, anger, fear, or any other passion, exist,
But for the movement of consciousness, of imagination,
Cast in the silent, still, relativity of momentary awareness?
* * * *
At first you may dread the silence of a free mind.
* * * *
How many live now in past or future?
Rarely do the many fathom the bliss of eternity,
As its silence is ever still, right beneath the nose of time.
XXXVII
Most people in this conflict-ridden world
Would be content to have a quiet, simple life.
A relatively small handful make that very difficult.
* * * *
Our misuse of the mind,
Denies us the quiet serenity,
Of living, naturally, spontaneously.
* * * *
How challenging it is to surrender,
The noise of consciousness,
To its silent origin.
* * * *
Discern the silence of sound,
The blandness of taste,
The blindness of sight,
The numbness of touch,
The odorlessness of smell.
XL
The creatures of the sea surely know a serenity,
Only the quiet depths of the ocean can provide.
XLI
If you sit quietly, attentive to your greatest enemy,
You will discern you have everything in common.
XLIV
Sit quietly, dying to each moment;
Giving yourself to the stillness,
Of the eternal well within.
XLV
Though we all know the movie must end,
In the weaving of the storyline, we do partake,
Until the kaleidoscoping screen again becomes silent.
* * * *
When you are free, it is a silent declaration.
XLVIII
Consciousness quiets down through a yearning for simplicity and peace.
XLIX
To realize the ineffably unfathomable, is the awareness of that which distinguishes no differences.
It is the quiet drunk of the mystery-realized; of the mystics, the seers, the sages.
Call them whatever you will, all are served at the same bar.
LII
A quiet celibacy in every arena, is the natural outcome of no longer wanting.
LIV
The inward awakening is a quiet revolution.
LV
The earth is akin to a particle of dust,
Spinning in the grand silence of space,
In this sojourner’s dreamtime vision.
LVI
Many seem to latch onto the fallacious terrors of every sort of superstition.
Mystical covenants with esoteric, ethereal, immortal, powerful, all-seeing beings.
Deities and angels and demons, generally capable of warding off evil or advancing good.
Ignorance finds every conceivable way to cope with whatever world imagination has concocted.
And the awareness – indivisible, untouchable, immaculate – silent witness within all.
LX
And the noise of imagination filled the garden’s silence.
LXV
Discern the silence from which all imagination springs.
LXIX
Smoke wafts silently into the non-existence of all.
LXXV
Nothing can ever be proved.
The best you can do is sit quietly,
Realize that you are the proof,
Then wander on and find,
Some wood to chop,
Water to carry.
LXXVIII
Silence is the streaming without conceptual static.
* * * *
Silence is heaven’s greatest orchestration.
LXXXIV
When ego moves around and about,
There is ceaseless activity, ceaseless drama.
Where there is anonymity, only the silent take notice.
LXXXV
The sanctity of the temple within,
Is the simple, pure austerity,
Of its infinite silence.
LXXXVI
What ignorance can do with a little philosophy,
Can ofttimes make one wish s/he had kept silent.
LXXXVIII
Such a quiet state of indifference sets in.
XCI
Out in the quiet of nature,
The cacophony of the human world,
Becomes utterly irrelevant.
* * * *
Let silence be your voice.
XCII
Where to go once every assumption, every conclusion, is exposed to question?
One becomes very still, very silent, in the facelessness of the inevitable answer.
XCVII
Hear ye Eden in your silence?
* * * *
Beauty holds out much longer if steeped in silence.
XCIX
Aphorisms are not necessarily poetic.
They often sound foolish when read aloud.
They are most useful for quiet, solitary reflection.
C
Those relatively few across time, across space,
Who have pondered things deeply,
Have a quiet kinship.
CI
Silence is its own reward.
* * * *
Self-absorbed silence is the final destination.
CIII
A quiet feast by most standards.
CIV
You cannot discern mind,
Through the screen of thoughts;
Only through the silence of its origin.
CV
The noise of experience gives over,
To the silence of experiencing.
The murky puddle of consciousness,
Gives itself over to the clarity of awareness.
CVI
Even the om goes silent.
CVII
Surrender to the eternal reality; plug into the silence of it all.
* * * *
This moment of serenity was brought to you,
By a quiet, desireless, fearless, detached mind.
CXI
Even wisdom becomes noise; nothing more than conceptual entertainment.
CXII
When attachments to space-time’s illusion fall away,
The witness becomes absorbed by the eternal silence.
CXIII
It is silence that is golden.
* * * *
Relax, if you cannot manage it on your own,
Death will permanently silence you soon enough.
CXIV
Here you are biding your time quietly,
In the soliloquy of this moment’s passing,
Until the inevitable need for action requires,
You to move on to another part of the set.
CXV
How can you fathom the surrender required?
It is You, You are it; That which is unknowable.
Surrender to the immeasurable eternal silence.
Offer everything you imagine real and true.
CXVII
No matter how you struggle,
You cannot explain this mystery
To someone who cannot hear.
You may as well be silent.
* * * *
Dance or sit, walk or run, sing or stay silent; it is all the same.
* * * *
Surrender and the silence is ineffably immutable.
Even amid the greatest storms of conscious design.
CXX
It is all swallowed by the oblivion of the silence eternally still.
CXXIII
Is silence ignorance?
Is silence wisdom?
Is it both between or beyond
All boundaries of limited distinction?
CXXIX
Whether locked or open, the door will speak quietly.
CXXXIII
Be silent, and enjoy the serenity.
CXXXIII
Build silence into your daily routine.
Go placidly amid the noise and haste.
CXXXIV
What is sound relative to silence?
What is light relative to darkness?
What is life relative to death?
Transcend all.
CXXXV
No time for silence.
CXXXIX
Is profound silence really any different than noisy silence?
CXLIII
Surrender and the silence just sort of takes over.
CLIV
The sound is silence.
CLIX
Observe at all the vanity and greed,
And you will discern the source of all commotion.
When all the craving subsides into the stillness, into the silence.
You will realize the peace, the serenity, you quest.
CLX
The days feel longer and shorter,
As sun and moon glide silently,
Across the ceiling of this mind.
CLXIII
Who pays attention to the silence, echoing from the corners?
CLXVI
Silence is its own symphony.
CLXVIII
A silent, attentive mind,
Is humming with the setting,
Through which it is kaleidoscoping.
CLXX
The dream passes more silently, as the craving for chatter dissipates.
* * * *
Questions and answers, both come from, and return to, silence.
* * * *
The interacting flow each has,
With people, places, things and ideas,
Is an unfathomable, kaleidoscoping dance.
Step back as far as you can imagine,
And the universe shimmers,
Within a deep silence.
CLXXXV
Meditation is simply learning,
To hold the thoughts, the will, in abeyance,
Until the silence is its own end.
CLXXXVI
If you are one who asks how to serve this needy world,
Pause, be silent, be patient, be attentive, to the given moment.
What is required will mindfully, effortlessly, compassionately, unfold.
CLXXXVII
Who listens to those who are silent?
Who sees past words into the imperishable depths?
Most are transfixed by those who babble so much and say so little.
CXXXIII
Build silence into your daily routines.
Go placidly amid the noise and haste.
CXLVIII
While You quietly whittle down, the world changes ever anew.
CLIV
Inner quiet is a challenge, to which you must surrender.
CLXVII
To be free, you must cast out everything.
Every thought, every contortion of the mind,
Must be supplanted by a quiet, still attentiveness.
CLVIII
Sit quietly, set aside the senses,
And allow the boundaries of the body,
To dissolve into the ethereal abyss of totality
CLXVIII
What is it to rest in the lotus of stillness,
In the quietude free of passion,
Without the concerns,
Of a hectic, time-filled mind?
CLXXVII
Humility is not the artificial arrogance so many practice.
It is a quiet understanding of one’s equal standing,
With every form ever concocted in any realm,
Of this divine mirage of heaven and hell.
CLXXXIV
Have pretty much said everything that needed saying.
The mystical uprising is gradually diminishing.
More quiet times in the remaining now.
CXC
Eden, in all the noise of creation,
Was a very serene place, as is any now,
Without the tangled rush of thought unending.
CXCI
Why is the background noise of mind, always insisting you push on; that now is not the place to be?
CXCII
The ocean chatters away in the crash of every wave,
But does all the roaring noise really mean anything?
CXCVI
Bold are the silent ones.
CCV
Hell is a fragmented mind; Heaven a quiet heart.
CCXII
Live quietly,
Spontaneously absolute,
Free of the indigence of existence.
CCXV
Having a quiet mind does not mean you are free.
CCXX
As you do not care for judgments against you,
Others do not care for those you pass onto them.
Judge, and you will provoke similar judgments.
Abide quietly, and you will be treated in kind.
CCXXII
Silence is a state of mind, a quality of mind.
* * * *
There is a time for sound, there is a time for silence.
Knowing who-what-when-where-why-how,
Is for discerners of eternity to be.
CCXXIII
Silence is the eternal companion.
A priceless birthright prior to all value.
CCXXIX
The trick is to fall into the silence without babbling back up.
CCXXIX
The eternal silence,
Is your most constant,
Acquaintance, friend, lover.
CCXXX
So, relax, do with your time,
Whatever the given moment calls.
Sit quietly, walk calmly, sprint boldly.
Dance with irreverent abandon.
Speak clearly, confidently.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Be That which you truly are,
Have always been, and will ever be.
CCXXXIII
It is all the silence of now,
Crowded with the seemingly,
Endless chatter of imagination.
CCXXXVII
To bring about a sense of serenity,
The source of duality must be seen within.
Only a pervading sense of detachment will free any,
From the confusion inherent in the mind.
Manifest the quietude of mystery,
And reality will find its way.
CCXXXVIII
Imagine the profound silence,
Of the many creatures of Eden,
Who never know even one word.
CCXXXIX
It is really just about breathing,
And listening very closely,
To the silence within.
* * * *
Surrender to the silence of the emptiness You are.
CCXLVIII
Live quietly, and avoid whenever possible,
The innumerable things that aid and abet,
Unnecessary suffering of mind and body.
* * * *
The great silence of the ancients,
Probably came about because they had,
So much less absurdity to unravel.
CCL
Words, words, words, on and on they go, until silence, they in some, do gradually sow.
* * * *
No silence in that mind.
* * * *
The cacophony of the human swarm is just short of deafening.
CCLI
Give up all that swirling, vexing passion,
For deep, overriding, unassailable inner serenity.
The simple quietude of contentment is well worth the trade.
CCLII
Christian babble, Muslim babble, Jewish babble, Hindu babble, Shinto babble,
Buddhist babble, Taoist babble … and every other variety of ist-ism babble.
Babble, babble, babble … nothing but ceaseless, cacophonous babble.
Few able to see or hear anything but differences in shade and tone.
CCLIII
A quiet revolution is long overdue.
CCLIV
Declare peace within and without, and a momentous quietude unfolds.
* * * *
In the ethereal awareness of the mind,
All the bubbles and troubles of consciousness,
Evaporate into the quietude of true nature.
Imagination is naught but a brief blip,
In the vast singularity of eternity.
CCLIX
The quietude of which so many speak is prior to all pales.
CCLXI
Mitote: A cacophony of voices in your head, all talking, few if any listening.
CCLXIV
Whether on mountain or in valley or desert or sea,
Whether in countryside or city, whether inside or outside,
Whether surrounded by silence or explosive noise,
You are whatever You are, wherever You are,
As You have ever been, will ever be.
* * * *
Forget for a moment,
What you believe you look like.
Your name, your thoughts about everything.
Discern the quietude in the abeyance of consciousness,
And linger in that tranquility for as long as the occupied mind allows.
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in …
It is that simple for those who have eyes that see and ears that hear.
CCLXVIII
You think too much, you talk too much; shut up and listen to the silence.
CCLXIX
Drift silent, drift deep.
CCLXXIV
You may play it good, you may play it evil, you may play it somewhere between,
But when the stage empties, when the lights go out, when the hall falls quiet,
It will always be the same awareness dancing alone, timelessly indivisible.
* * * *
Whether through the meander of words,
Music, numbers, silence, or any other medium,
Every attribute existence can tender, is yet another portal,
Through which to mull over this ineffable mystery.
CCLXXV
Touch the sun, wander hell, imagine heaven.
Discern the true reality, be as free as the wind,
And party on, until the music wanes into silence.
CCLXXVI
The existential quantum morass,
Yearning for some peace and quiet,
In its little slice of the grand oblivion.
* * * *
Anonymity, within and without, is a quiet, blissful existence.
Who really for long craves a paparazzi-driven fan base?
CCLXXVIII
Picture the Titanic racing across the Atlantic, and the final seconds,
Before the iceberg begins ripping through the paper-thin hull,
The lookouts crying out, “Iceberg ahead! Iceberg ahead!”
And only the rare hearken because the cacophony,
Is too absorbing, too enticing, too blinding,
To make the paradigm shift required,
For all to survive the sinking.
Now, what are you going to do,
To survive the relatively few moments ahead,
And, if you do survive, to make certain it does not happen again.
CCLXXXIII
What need hath the mystery for light or sound, or even dark or silence?
CCLXXXV