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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Sep 24 2014 : 11:20:31 PM
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Adapt. The imperative is to adapt. To survive, I adapt. To thrive, I adapt. To become God, I adapt.
The Eskimo builds the igloo out of snow--molding the homestead to the environment. The man carves a canoe out of a tree trunk--shaving wood until there is a hollow module. The woman grows the child inside her, as her body expands to house the embryonic sapling.
There can be no paralysis. Only fluidity. There can be no sickness. Only resilient immunity. There can be no doubt. Only relentless faith.
Mother Nature has exposed Herself to the vulnerability of stupid creatures--me among them. She is not afraid because She can devour them at any moment if they linger in foolishness for too long.
Let them play, and figure out the puzzle. |
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Dogboy
USA
2296 Posts |
Posted - Sep 25 2014 : 06:53:57 AM
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quote: Mother Nature has exposed Herself to the vulnerability of stupid creatures--me among them. She is not afraid because She can devour them at any moment if they linger in foolishness for too long.
Dear Mother gives us so much and asks for nothing in return. Still we carry on like thieves and rapists and believe She'll keep turning cheeks... |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Sep 27 2014 : 11:46:30 PM
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quote: Originally posted by Dogboy
Dear Mother gives us so much and asks for nothing in return. Still we carry on like thieves and rapists and believe She'll keep turning cheeks...
More refined ways of energy usage are coming into view. If we can draw energy from empty space itself, i.e. something out of nothing, then that would solve a lot of problems, wouldn't it? |
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Dogboy
USA
2296 Posts |
Posted - Sep 28 2014 : 05:53:06 AM
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quote: More refined ways of energy usage are coming into view. If we can draw energy from empty space itself, i.e. something out of nothing, then that would solve a lot of problems, wouldn't it?
Sounds like kundalini, eh? |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Sep 29 2014 : 6:01:18 PM
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the fractal-ly light of the third eye, glimmering with its geometry-- how can i turn away? impossible.
a quilt fabric of consciousness made of patterns expanding from an infinite point where curves of body are spun from the blueprint of design: organic lines luscious boundaries seductive wholeness
more, more, more the ravenous appetite wants to touch, become, be a part of the silky, soft explosion of blinding beingness
threading the eye of the needle demands finesse and She will not let me in until i am refined and purified, worthy of skimming and skipping across the fountain of Her embrace. |
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Anima
484 Posts |
Posted - Oct 01 2014 : 09:55:47 AM
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Very good, Bodhi! I like how you use real objects to illustrate your metaphors. It gives them definition and a point of access for the reader.
Keep up the good fight.
love and light |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Oct 06 2014 : 8:42:41 PM
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Thank you, Anima. Here's a short poem-journal-reflection:
i am electric pancake. my body full of fuzz. skin but a boundary condition to notice the coming and going of information. easy does it, wild horse that wants to leap into the stratosphere.
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Dogboy
USA
2296 Posts |
Posted - Oct 06 2014 : 9:32:02 PM
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Coo Coo Cachoo |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Oct 06 2014 : 9:49:49 PM
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Jesus loves you more than you will know, whoa whoa whoa. |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Oct 13 2014 : 8:16:30 PM
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on the news they are spewing the dramatic poison and feeding off the toxic energy of suffering like hungry ghosts begging for a view of horror so long as they can watch from a distance
because it is not their pain; it is their entertainment it is not their sickness; it is their amusement
i understand the rush, the sickly pleasure i have felt it, have wanted it
but now i see into eyes differently see the self-similar reflection that can only be me refracted through the lens of holographic individuality
only surface plays its role as uniquely textured but underneath the same shining Beingness becomes increasingly evident
some shred of sanctity beckons me to return to the innocent wholeness i have known and to cautiously remember the maintenance authenticity requires.
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Oct 25 2014 : 02:27:36 AM
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Sometimes I read what I've written, and I think: get over it, you narcissistic, self-contained, egotistical sycophant. On that note, let me celebrate beings other than BodhiTree.
Tonight was a hip hop show with the band putting all their energy into it. It was highly exhilarating and inspirational. I danced with the crowd and let the beats move the body in swells of percussive rhythm. So many variations, and with such good music, there is no end to the flow.
Music played will fullness ans devotion is sublimely enjoyable. Many thanks to the craftsmen who play their strings and contribute to the ongoing saga of life here on Earth. |
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Dogboy
USA
2296 Posts |
Posted - Oct 25 2014 : 06:36:42 AM
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quote: Sometimes I read what I've written, and I think: get over it, you narcissistic, self-contained, egotistical sycophant.
Not to mention disgruntled... |
Edited by - Dogboy on Oct 25 2014 07:56:34 AM |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Oct 25 2014 : 11:08:46 AM
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LMAO! Thank you, thank you, Dogboy. Gotta stay true to the theme. |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Oct 26 2014 : 9:14:14 PM
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The air is not liquid enough yet. I cannot skim through it as I so desire. I am still bound by heavy limitations. Walking, machines, instruments of communication. These pale in comparison to what is promised if I can merge with the cosmic consciousness that permits boundless travel and infinite speed. The body should be like clothing that can easily be taken off, redecorated, changed to suit any temperament or mood. Rather than a fragile, fleshy organism, why won't it become a hologram that can dissolve and reemerge instantly?
Imagination: the most torturous aspect of Mind. |
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Anima
484 Posts |
Posted - Oct 27 2014 : 02:13:28 AM
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quote:
Originally posted by Bodhi Tree
...These pale in comparison to what is promised if I can merge with the cosmic consciousness that permits boundless travel and infinite speed. The body should be like clothing that can easily be taken off, redecorated, changed to suit any temperament or mood....
It is already true as story, which we are living Oh, and here is a hug, my friend!
The imagination is the most primitive human consciousness, relating our facets of identity to original spirit. It brings the content and edges of our perception close to awareness, wherein stasis and change, substance, idea, death, and becoming, are but moods of the mind's eye. How long is the organism's lifetime in eternity, and how far is it from itself? It's evolution is instant, like the image of a wave on a lake. We are movement across the infinite plenitude of particularity and universality, detail and purity. Our being is but beads on the string of conscious imagination, which is a tone of potentiality itself, containing every adornment and opulence, dearth and austerity.
Besides, who likes holographic revolutions? Let's make history, baby!
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Edited by - Anima on Oct 27 2014 03:32:05 AM |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Oct 27 2014 : 08:02:34 AM
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Well said. Enthusiasm, pulp, juice. Put it in a blender; make a smoothie.
"And I know I will be loosened From the bonds that hold me fast And the chains all around me Will fall away at last
And on that grand and fateful day I will take thee in my hand I will ride on a train I will be the fisherman."
Fisherman's Blues, The Waterboys: http://youtu.be/_VKouBHarIo |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Nov 08 2014 : 7:03:17 PM
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Reflections on Self-Pacing
We are chasing ecstatic bliss. We are trying to surrender to That. And we want the ecstatic bliss to be present while we are moving: stillness in action. It seems like a very true conclusion to draw that if full of ecstatic bliss, the personal self helps the Collective Self to a much greater extent. All parties concerned benefit.
But in the pursuit of this condition, the friction of removing the obstacles can cause varying degrees of discomfort. Therefore, self-pacing must be applied. The notion of "pacing" touches upon the phenomenon of movement. In movement, something, or someone, is shifting from one place to another. There is change. With change, there is implicit imperfection. Things can go wrong, and do go wrong. What do I mean by wrong? Well, in this context, I mean wrong as in: not as expected, not as intended, in disagreement with the original impulse to move. Example: I want to shoot a basketball in the hoop, but it misses the rim completely. Air ball. A diversion from the desired goal.
Pacing also carries a connotation of repetition. I will be doing something over and over again. Maybe I will shoot the ball 10 times at the hoop. And the pace will be determined by how fast or slow I shoot. So pacing can be an adjustment in speed (or velocity) of movement. Pacing can also be an adjustment in quantity, such as giving only 8 attempts instead of 10.
With Deep Meditation, self-pacing can involve adding or subtracting minutes to the session, or adding or subtracting how many sessions are done in one day. In some sense, the technique of "easily favoring" is a kind of self-pacing that involves an automatic surrender to a feeling of finesse when putting attention on the mantra. It's not a mental management or analytical regulation, but a feeling of flow and preference. The subtlety is profound.
I have had to back off certain practices due to discomfort, and even reduce the amount of sessions per day. Some practices have been added due to an inner calling for more. Whether adding or removing, we are balancing on a versatile beam, sometimes called the razor's edge. There are elements of precision, refinement, and skill in this art of self-pacing. We are training our body and mind to adapt to the transformation occurring in the neurobiology.
In the pursuit of ecstatic bliss, it makes sense to put comfort at the forefront, so that the journey is enjoyable. Even if there are altruistic or martyr-like motives to help others with personal enlightenment (at the price of discomfort), self-pacing will still outweigh the urge to accelerate too fast, or conversely, to slow down too much. Why? Because in the state of ecstatic bliss, the collective organism is functioning optimally, even while in pursuit of more ecstatic bliss.
For whatever reason, the spiral-like trajectory of evolution, unfoldment, and enlightenment offers the option of pace. We can seek to master that.
Godspeed. Keep the lighthouse in sight. |
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Anima
484 Posts |
Posted - Nov 08 2014 : 10:03:36 PM
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Hi Bodhi,
Maybe the progression and the aim of consciousness are mixed. I recently reached a point of fatalism and nihilism in my thinking about life, spirit, and the world (reality).
One thing a guy liked to ask people on another forum is "What's the rush?" Good question. Steady as she goes... Or not so steady. We do what we can with our faith and desire.
I don't know the final aim or if any of it holds up. All I know for sure is that love is our praise, and it is worthy. It is a worthy ideal to work toward and surrender to in any degree. My ideal is living beauty and joy: warmth, trust, love, and compassion, both cosmic and personal. That is why I found Indra kneeling to Lord Krishna. It is not all I have seen, and it is not all that is possible, but I know deep down that it is the right ideal.
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Nov 08 2014 : 10:16:03 PM
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Excellent, Anima! I'm with you there.
Here's one I just wrote...
granules of mind that grow like crystals (splintered fragments of desire, memory, imagination) refract the light into the color of experience
shining, shining, shining she stands so obviously beautiful, impossible to ignore
she beckons the weak but ambitious observer to try his best: to give his guts, heart, mind and balls to the task of winning her over, of uniting the distance
he, grown tired from tragedy, is begging for the solution but the solution does not respond to beggars, but to warriors who have maneuvered winds of life that carve the sculpture of being into worthiness embodied by virtues of strength and endurance
little gods, little goddesses travelling the distance and playing the game--dreaming mythological dreams and simple ones too
wanting the prize of each other. |
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Dogboy
USA
2296 Posts |
Posted - Nov 09 2014 : 06:54:54 AM
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quote: All I know for sure is that love is our praise, and it is worthy. It is a worthy ideal to work toward and surrender to in any degree. My ideal is living beauty and joy: warmth, trust, love, and compassion, both cosmic and personal.
I reside here. |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Nov 09 2014 : 12:57:02 PM
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Amen to that, Dogboy and Anima. |
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SeySorciere
Seychelles
1571 Posts |
Posted - Nov 10 2014 : 12:52:59 AM
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Bodhi Tree in bloom...
Sey |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Nov 12 2014 : 1:59:50 PM
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SeySorciere glimmering. |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Nov 15 2014 : 5:59:55 PM
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The Little Drummer Boy song plays and the mood becomes Christmas-like, with the feeling that you're swirling around in a snowglobe, safely protected by the thick glass. All is nice and tidy. No room for violence or money-fights or fractured bones. No one to compete against, except maybe a cheerful game in the parlor. The pain of chaos is a distant and fading memory that no longer touches or worries you. All is well and warm and delightful.
The boys choir sings Ave Maria and their falsetto tone carries purity like windchimes ringing...blowing in mountain air. The same kind of atmosphere permeates your being, faintly, as if heaven was finally here on earth. The crimes against humanity have all evaporated. There is nothing to fear whatsoever. The angels do not wish to do any harm.
On the FOX news channel, at a roundtable, the group squabbles in a semi-delirious rant of disapproval and disagreement. They are confused and angry and above all want somebody to blame. If only their enemy could be destroyed, they might be able to rest. But it seems like their enemy keeps resurrecting, so they feed off the juice of their irritability and discontent. A sick and feverish contortion of voices sounds across subdued agony.
In the memory of the mind these scenes remain somewhat real, though they're gone from the immediacy of the moment. Yet the moment can't fully shake them because the mind needs points of reference. But the moment itself remains unshaken because the scenes have been skimming across its surface the whole time. So the mind surrenders to the moment, and the moment accepts the mind, because the moment has created the mind, after all.
And now you have to know that the dream is forever deeper than you can know, and in this knowingness, you can relax and settle into the stride of chasing another iteration of the Now until you are fully satisfied. |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Nov 22 2014 : 10:33:21 PM
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where did the magic go? the luminescent glow that glimmers with hints of silver and gold where is the aliveness? the purple-green-blue dance of energy, full of personality where is the hope? the paradise future on the shores of Orion's belt
it's just a kiss away a touch away a train wreck of salvageability waiting to be reconstituted
plead guilty, then regress to innocence fake enlightenment, then find out what's real cash in the chips, and return the money to the cashier
all this time it's been in your hands latent, infinitely patient, without concern, without judgment or preference equally distributing itself to all, though they fight for possessions galore until the blood bleeds enough and disease chokes out the life
still, it moves. |
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