a b i d e … r e s t … m e l t

What if there was a world you could slip into without effort of any kind, a world where you had no name, no status, no history?  A world where you didn’t have to know anything about striving to be richer, healthier, more creative, more attractive, more lovable? Imagine a world where the words enlightenment, awakening, freedom, salvation, were yet to be thought-up.  What if that world was real and ever-available, no conditions ever attached?

And what if that world was the Real World, for it was – unlike the dream world one normally inhabits – ever-present and changeless?  What if that world – which would be more accurately called ‘world-ing’ – was one’s natural home and substance?  What if IT was closer, more intimate than anything one could conceive?

Wouldn’t that change everything?

IT is here, right now, in just this.  Just this everythingness and whateverness.

Abide.  Rest.  Melt.

The Oneness we fondly call Beloved is waiting: bouquets in one hand, a big broom in the other.  You will be taken, you will be loved, you will be cleansed and re-formatted.  And you will eventually  – it might take a while, depending on the extent of your self-delusion – find it impossible to return to the old world.  In fact it ceases to exist for you; it has been absorbed by the new View.

What if all it took was a backing away from beliefs of any kind – even poetic expressions like the previous paragraph?  What if thoughts of any kind were the only obstacle to Truth?

Wouldn’t you want to find out for yourself?

You are warmly invited.  Admittance is free … but costs everything.

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there is nothing to see but light

When at rest the mind is ordinary perception, naked and unadorned; when you gaze directly at it there is nothing to see but light; as Awareness, it is brilliance and the relaxed vigilance of the awakened state; as nothing specific whatsoever, it is a secret fullness; it is the ultimacy of nondual radiance and emptiness.

It is not eternal, for nothing whatsoever about it has been proved to exist.  It is not a void, for there is brilliance and wakefulness.  It is not unity, for multiplicity is self-evident in perception.  It is not multiplicity, for we know the one taste of unity.  It is not an external function, for Awareness is intrinsic to immediate reality.

~ Keith Dowman, The Flight of the Garuda

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More info about this beautiful book here.

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in a heap at each other’s feet

Look, the vast Light stands still

Our clearest Light is One!

and

Then it was as if I suddenly saw
the secret beauty of their hearts,
the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire
nor self-knowledge can reach,
the core of their reality, the person that each one is
in God’s eyes.

If only they could see themselves as they really are.
If only we could see each other that way all the time,
there would be no more war,
no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed…

I suppose the big problem would be
that we would fall down and worship each other.
– Thomas Merton

 


Source: the nonduality highlights


 

like the blue sky on a summer day

We have never been an individual body containing a personal consciousness. We have never been limited by physical skin, nor have we ever been located inside a solid body separate from an outside world. This is never our actual experience, although it may feel that way.

That in us, which experiences and shapes itself as thoughts, perceptions and sensations, is universal, impersonal and undivided. It is without limits and without a center. It is like the blue sky on a summer day, pure and open. From it, and within it thoughts, perceptions and sensations, like clouds, appear unfold and dissolve naturally.

The direct experience which we name body is fluid and alive, sometimes present, sometimes not. It does not refer back to a memory body, a habitual body or an image body.

The yoga of non-duality invites us to feel ourselves as the vast blue sky: open and welcoming. We listen to our bodily experience directly, without interpretation and without a goal. Within this simple and innocent openness, misidentifications with bodily sensations and feelings of being located inside a solid body dissolve naturally simply by being seen directly with and in the light of their own true nature.

In time, the body is knowingly experienced as a flow of amorphous sensation expanding and free floating in a quality of spaciousness. And as we live in this direct experience of the body as sensation, we feel and understand that it and the space all around are made of the very same reality.

~ Ellen Emmet

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Visit Ellen’s website for more information about her work. She teaches Yoga and Movement, and offers Non Dual Therapy. UK residents are surely blessed to have access to her wideawake wisdom.

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the song of the sacred is your own heart’s song

Whatever inspires the mind

is of the perfume of my Beloved,

whatever fires the heart

is a ray from my Friend.

~ Rumi

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Such a sweet verse from Rumi; a powerful teaching disguised as a love poem, in the great tradition of saints and mystics.  The language of duality – subject and object – is employed to point towards the inseparability of mind, heart and changeless Reality.

The belief that the Beloved (Lover – Reality – Awareness – Consciousness) is removed and remote from the functions of the mind is reflexive.  Yet upon scrutiny we find that it’s simply not our actual experience that mind is apart from, and independent of, Awareness, or whatever we like to call the Absolute.  Mind and all its miraculous activity appears within and by way of Awareness, and cannot ever exist elsewhere.  It’s simply illogical to presume otherwise.  So … and this comes as a shocking realization … mind’s dance is the dance of the Lover.  Hence Rumi can say, “Whatever inspires the mind is of the perfume of my Beloved …”

Whatever lights you up, whatever you are passionate about, whatever gives you that bliss Joe Campbell talked about – that’s Lover, heart-whispering.

“Whatever fires the heart is a ray from my Friend.”  A ray!  A ray of Light, unlit and unborn Light!  Yet how often do we rationalize the heart’s urgings as impractical, childish, too expensive or downright dangerous?  In the great race towards acceptance and worth – the “Like me! Like me!” syndrome, the heart’s quiet firings are left to splutter and die.

And that’s one reason I like that little video on “How to be Alone.”  At first glance it might seem superficial, an expression of ‘self’-survival, and a reinforcement of the illusion of separation.  But think about it: think about the fears and avoidances that go with ‘alone-ness.’  Might they not actually be fears and avoidances of one’s heart’s whisperings?  Might they not be a denial of Lover’s perfume and light?  How will you know?

Return to top.  Read Rumi again.  Your heart will tell you.  It knows when it is opening and flowing and flowering.  It knows when it’s being dumbed-down.  For she-who-writes, the best place for looking into heart-land is at ground zero – on the zafu.  We’re all different, but the task for all of us is the same: we must find our way back to our own heart’s song, and stop insisting that it is other than the Song of the Sacred.

What if the Beloved wants to live alone awhile?  To sit on a bench and knit and chat with complete strangers?  To dance unpartnered in a bar?  To write poetry (or a blog) that no one will read? To sit and gaze at a bare wall all day?  To say No or Yes when it usually says the opposite?  To paint or draw, or strum a musical instrument for hours?  To pull the phone jack out of the wall and turn off the computer and the Droid?  What if It wants to weep and grieve?  What if It wants to set out on a long solitary journey without any financial support?

What if It simply wants to be whoever You are, right now, doing whatever You are doing?  Wouldn’t that change everything?

~ miriam louisa

sunyata or story? – a reality check

Two weeks ago I took a tumble down unlit steps onto concrete. I’m no stranger to being hobbled for long periods (how else would a tearabout meet and fall fatally in love with a zafu?) but what’s interesting now, is that there’s … no drama. The Light of Being called ‘I’ is quite unaffected by two sprained ankles and one wrenched knee.

But there’s more, and it wants to be shared. In the leisure of forced immobility meditation finds no distractions. It flourishes. And this morning, after a sweet spell of simply being Being, it bubbled up some interesting questions.

Attention went to my left leg. There it lay on the sofa, the ankle swollen, the foot and calf black, yellow and blue with bruising. Not a pretty sight.

What do I actually see?
I see patches of color, shapes; a form.

Are the patches of color – in my actual direct experience, not in abstraction, interpretation or conceptualization – bruises?
No, they are simply patches of color – data perceptions. Bruises can only be inferred, not experienced.

And the shapes – the swollen ankle?
Swelling likewise. It can only be inferred, not experienced.

And the form?
Simply a form – ‘leg’ is what it gets labeled.

So?
No bruising, swelling or leg is actually being experienced.

What about pain?
My leg hurts, yes!

What leg?
Huh? Right. OK, there is sensation.

Where?
In my leg …… crikey…..?

Is the sensation outside of perception?
No, couldn’t be … could it?

Where is perception located?
Behind my eyes …

Really? Is perception outside of Awareness?
No. They can’t be separated.

So where’s the sensation actually experienced?
In Awareness – which has no fixed point of reference!

And where’s the perception of color, shape and form experienced?
In Awareness. Must be! OMG. There’s only Awareness experiencing Itself as a field of energy data!

And where’s the sense of ‘I’ experienced?
It … floats within Awareness … it is Awareness. It’s all Awareness!

Good Reality check, eh? Just in case you were tempted to turn it all into a wee story sweetheart!

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No-thing exists outside of the Awareing,
the Experiencing, the Knowing, that is ‘I’.
No accident, no injury, no pain, no trauma
ever affects this unknowable ‘I’.
The Knowing of this is sweet peace and Lightness of Being.

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I share this because I know the agony of bodily injury. This body has been smashed. One of my legs was severed and re-built. I have spent many months hospitalized and immobile, not knowing whether I’d ever walk unassisted again. Back then I was unable to separate the story of my experience from its actuality. Now I am able to do that, and I am profoundly moved to share this simple investigation with those who suffer. It’s such a simple inquiry, and it shows so clearly how we often don’t experience the actuality of what’s going on. We experience the story, and it’s usually an awful one. And it’s usually all a lie. To suffer is to believe the lie.

~ ml

bright naked beingness

What an odd sort of a night. The body is still somewhat travel-weary so it trotted off to bed early. There’s usually a time of sitting, settling, checking-in with Reality before snuggling under the doona, and last night was no exception. The mind was very bright. Sleep came instantly and went on for some hours.

Then suddenly one was jolted awake by what felt like an electric shock surging through the whole body. The really strange thing was that although I was asleep, something was aware of both the jolt and the waking up. “That was a bit weird,” thinking said.

So – I’m lying there wide awake in the moon-lit night wondering where all the energy now vibrating the body has come from. Feeling like a spring chicken and contemplating getting up to do something … then I hear a shout: “Be Beingness!”

Instantly, with no intention or volition, there was a turning, a converging of the energy we call attention … back. The sensation was physical.

“Back”? No. Backwards? Sort of. As though Aware-ing was falling out the back of the brain and into … space. And the whole of space was singing silence and it was breathing. This was not a dream; I have never felt more fully present.

There were no lights. There was no bliss. There was no center or reference-point. There was only this vast void, breathing.

It continued for some hours before sleep-tide washed in. And in the dawn, when Kookaburras’ cackling chorus rallied the sleeping world, it was still present. It’s here now, as I type and as your ‘I’ reads; it has always been here: bright naked Beingness.

This is what ‘I’ is.

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