A Sort Of Song

Yet Not One

When a young boy who was read to often trembles to recall the following sentence:

“All good things come to those who wait upon the Lord.”

and, try as he might, that boy took it wrong

and love showed its meaning to him

that one now wants to tell of it

For, you see, I only thought I knew back then. Thought. Words. Definitions. Logic. Rules. I had no one to teach me, to initiate me, into vital truth. In ancient times every child was initiated to live as human among humans. These were the uncivilized tribes. Civilization came into being as a convenient way for robbery to occur. So convenient is it that the victim of the robbery actually praises the robber and gives thanks for the theft and pledges allegiance to the robber for life. How do you like that?

And, the robber called the true God Satan

and had the temerity to call itself God the Almighty and things like, “The Lord of Your Nation”.

And, a singing poet (who everyone wondered how good could he be) asked, “If you are on our side, Who will stop the next war?” And I was among those who failed to understand for a long time.

What was robbed? Was it valuable? You bet. The most precious of all. The night pearl. It is the night pearl who knows the meaning of all scripture. It is the night pearl who waits upon the true Lord. It is the night pearl who knows that waiting is not what you have been taught to believe. Waiting is not inaction. To wait is to be fully awake and aware. You can witness such waiting by watching a wild, free bird who lands for a time within your sight. So alert and present checking every angle to know what is also present, the bird will not miss the gifts that are being broadcast by the true Lord to every night pearl listening. The source of those gifts is the true God. Waiting is living in a state of grace.

To wait in this sense is to never allow yourself to go forward without a true connection to the same thing that guides the bird and all the rest of the world of living things. It is like saying to a young driver, “Do not forget the car you drive requires fuel or you will surely regret it.”

If you are like I was you might reply, “But I don't know how to wait like that!” My purpose has to be to give a call and you must answer and that is the beginning. You were robbed and you must get riled up about it and then listen like the bird to what you are told. Something has to awaken the night pearl inside of you. It knows. The robbery occurred through illusion which distracted your attention from that pearl within. It now welcomes you to return on its terms. It will spell out the terms. And then it will be so that

“All good things come to those who wait upon the Lord.”

The world of human fools….hmmmm. I want to discuss all of humanity. Three kinds. The first type denies it is a fool. So, never does anything at all to address its situation. Just a fool throughout. Nearly all leaders fit here. The second group realize they are fools and call themselves fools or idiots very often as if that will save them from the wrath of what has no patience with a fool...and then there are the final group, and it is very small by comparison to the other two groups I have described. These ones know themselves to be fools all right but have about themselves just a sparkle of diligence which sets them apart...just barely...only barely...they resolve to do something about it and what they do is to watch the others and deliberately refuse to follow them. That is, we often do just the opposite of what we see others doing. We appear at times almost wise. That about sums it up for now.

Anony mouse ly Live

So, Lose The Do-er

The Divine is the master and agent, there is no do-er. Lose it. Divine has chosen its human form. Then, deliberately, divinity is forgotten. It likes a mystery. It wants to be shown that it can go under the spell and return. The divine plays games with itself to forget its nature for the pure joy of reuniting in the annihilation of the do-er. It is time to come home.

The conceited, self-centered do-er has got to stop someday, why not today? Drop it. In your life lose it, not anybody else's. Why? There is so much energy bound up in the concept of some “I” who is doing “My” life. Wasted! To drop the conceptual do-er frees all that tied up energy to be used in service of Divinity. And the flame of divinity can light many other candles. What a sight that is going to be.

A drop of divine left in dirt on Earth with all the correct elements has one power, one chance to free itself. It chooses to stand up. It takes 4 billion years but who is counting? Its one advantage is that it can remember its nature and in so remembering choose its awakening. Make the choice now.

With all that energy freed nothing will be left undone. Whoever hears this and follows will be aware of a blessing. This truly is the revolution wherein no blood is shed. Verily, I tell you that you can do this miracle and nobody else need even know about it yet you will live as a god is supposed to live. The only difference between you at this moment and a god is to be found in anonymity- the foundation of a new life.

You have been told you can overcome your terrible difficulties by accepting each one. You can try. Try and try and try. But relief will only come to those who admit, “I cannot accept this tragic condition which besets me for I am the one who is attached to sorrow”. With that deeper gesture of acceptance comes a sudden realization, oh, I am not that. I am dirt. I am the dirt divinity has chosen to mold into a body to live temporarily then return as dirt in peace.

Stories-

(Even the Best, Are Not good For You)

I want to complain of the basic idea that stories are good for people. Stories do not imitate a life.

Always they distort. How many times have you heard the phrase It's only a story? We try to teach and to learn about life through them. Telling. Listening. Getting a message. Swearing, I shall apply its message to my own life. The story which reveals to you that you are not going to be able to tell a story that will save you is the only one that can help. For, you see, a story is drawn from a hole in the mind and is listened to by that part of a listener's mind which is the part that creates problems in the first place. A mind can be a troublesome thing. By telling stories, it appears to be solving the problems it caused. Actually, it is increasing their numbers rapidly like flies or rabbits. Even the Great Sherlock was acting so. You do not even learn from your own experience much less the experience of others! Stories have been used by Masters for ages as instruments telling only of how easily your are tricked...again and again the same trick. You see that and continue to be tricked by it. You pay your money then you bow before idols all in exchange for the trick.

You have a murder on your hands. What is to be done? Pin it on somebody and murder them. That will teach people not to murder. Shortcuts? Convenience? Surely, a path to foolish behavior is not to be praised as a shortcut just because it offers convenience.

It seems we love stories we tell and retell and nothing good is gained from them. Stories work like liars when they lead you to believe in them. Stories have a beginning, middle, and end. They work out. There's a point. There's a mile-marker. Life is nothing like a story. Life happens. Life never misses a beat. It runs away from you while you busy yourself trying to make sense of it. What are you trying to accomplish? Life is here and it is overwhelming you for the love of excited enthusiasm. You cannot overwhelm it. MAKE A FRIEND OF IT. A man says I will accept life when it makes sense to me. One should say, life makes sense to me when I accept it. (Not the story, life.)

Stories are distractions from life. As such, they are highly valued by those who are upset and depressed. Knowing this, stories are highly valued by those who would make a buck or two from the downhearted and gain a following of fools. There are so many so desperate for a fix. So, life contains stories because so many are afraid to live. It is the substitute of choice. A good story puts you to sleep. It would be better for you to be upset.

Imagine telling a story about the ocean to explain it to someone. Rather take them to the beach. And wait. In silence. Let the ocean speak in its language to the one who would know about it.

That brings us straight to the point to be made: the presence holds the key to my real life. It may feel like a shadow friend to an authentic self. Make its introduction. Present your self to it. Initiate a true bond of lasting friendship; something bold and unknown. Initiate obedience to life. Transcend the envelope of story. Leave all heroes behind.

Excellent writing is considered to be those broad, graceful sweeping 

sentences that cover the whole territory of a matter to sum up everything in a 

most satisfying way for the reader. The greatest writing, however, tears 

everything to shreds, into pieces, and scatters the pieces all across the 

Universe to disturb the reader deeply, mightily. Ironically, this latter brand of 

writing has a soothing effect on those who may have come to the writing 

already disturbed. That is why the comfortable reader who has been mightily 

disturbed on the initial reading of great writing can return to it to find 

comfort in the acceptance of a vast unknown playground of ultimate wonder. 

Reality. 

Language

I want to know why if you brought a group of young children into a ROOM WHERE A NUMBER OF ORDINARY OBJECTS WERE SCATTERED ABOUT AND LEFT THE CHILDREN, WHY, WHATEVER THEY DID, WOULD YOU CALL IT “PLAY” AND NOT CALL IT “WORK”?

When an adult, says, I was just playing, what is meant? Now, tell me this: on the average, who plays more, a child or an adult? It is not even close, is it? An average adult only plays. Is always pretending not to know what he is really doing. A child is real much of the time. The difference between play acting and work may be found in the experience on the inside of the person, whatever the age. One is fun and the other drudgery. The words “play” and “work” are most imprecise terms. They are their own antonyms even. It is to be wondered how many other important words are like these ones?

Adults, now is the time for your tears.

not a word for mister webster

love's a glimpse into forever

words were never ever ever

cages for a mountain fever

cannot betray volcan forever

find there is no pressure lever

or, this will be your dyin' wish,

open lips too late its kiss -Johnny Smith