Guest guest Posted December 28, 2005 Report Share Posted December 28, 2005 Sitting here this is such an obscure place in time hidden here in the folds of silence there is nothing, simply. nothing no absence no blank no emptiness not even a blank sheet or a blank space these words won't make sense to just anyone. that's for sure. but someone perhaps will know there is no this nor that no here nor there no up nor down no empty nor full no good nor bad no happy nor sad no joy nor sorrow some will say, " Well! That sounds like death! " well, how could one be attracted to no attraction how could one wish for no wishing how could one desire no desire how can an emptiness of longing relate to no longing how can anything? sitting here hidden in folds of silence Bill Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 29, 2005 Report Share Posted December 29, 2005 In a message dated 12/28/2005 1:37:26 PM Pacific Standard Time, Nisargadatta writes: " billrishel " <illieusion Sitting here Sitting here this is such an obscure place in time hidden here in the folds of silence there is nothing, simply. nothing no absence no blank no emptiness not even a blank sheet or a blank space these words won't make sense to just anyone. that's for sure. but someone perhaps will know there is no this nor that no here nor there no up nor down no empty nor full no good nor bad no happy nor sad no joy nor sorrow some will say, " Well! That sounds like death! " well, how could one be attracted to no attraction how could one wish for no wishing how could one desire no desire how can an emptiness of longing relate to no longing how can anything? sitting here hidden in folds of silence Bill The thought of being nothing is what terrifies the mind and drives it to seek something. The Reality of being nothing is freedom from the terror of the conceptual thought of nothingness, which has nothing to do with nothingness but was only the backdrop of somethingness. Without the illusion of the absence of somethingness, there is no fear of nothingness because there is no absence of anything, even though nothing is present. Who is it that decided that something was preferable to nothing? Only the illusory mind that lives in terror of it's own extinction. This fear is justified and this is why we are still here. The mind is such a fragile thing; no substance; an illusion maker defining and reinforcing it's own illusory existence, supported by wisps of thought; threads of time, space, events. The mind dare not stop, even for a moment, or the whole illusion collapses and the whole story line is crumpled up and thrown in the trash like a disappointing first draft. Don't let yourself believe for one moment that you don't already know this as deeply as you know your imaginary self. Thanks, Bill. Liked the poem. Phil Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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