Aware of a Higher Peace
0 comments Published by Shinrikyo on Tuesday, November 10, 2009 at 11/10/2009 02:59:00 PMStillness roars to a crescendo as the summit
towers high above the limits of sight.
Of ageless symphony the green peaks
reverberate till the mind fades away.
In a new dimension of timelessness does
the consciousness find itself stranded.
And slowly whatever concepts constructed
by the feeble entity that 'I' am dies.
Only to be replaced by a void of such
meaning that only existence remains.
There is more than meets the mind's eye
and to comprehend rationally is absurd.
But when the depth of reason is transcended
what reality was hidden slowly dawns.
From the darkness does emerge a brilliance
so far forgotten beneath human folly.
Bring on what little ye have
For I shall soundly compensate
That all ye troubles may begone
And thy Gracious Light shine on
Beyond this grave of human flesh
Have I risen to counter meaning
Until we meet, eye to eye forever
Where the you and the I disappear
From the most High, we come by
Permeate must, the thought of why
And so forth release the riddles ours
The dawn approaches, night unaware
Only those people who are of a narrow outlook towards all that they perceive, are quick to proffer an opinion and try to force their views onto others. This is but an engagement of their ego and not the revealing of their true nature; their true nature is buried under layers and layers of social conditioning and moral garbage that they are virtually incapable of seeing the significance in all life experiences. Such people find only problems constituting their daily excursions and more often than not, these are the very same ones who end up being a problem to others.
To the man who has died to the petty indifference of the world and opened his real nature to all of existence, there is no such thing as a problem nor an event that causes him perverse pleasure or inconvenience. For such a soul all of life is a learning experience, and being dead to all the base emotions that crowd the mind of man the animal, this entity becomes larger than life and rises to new heights in our evolution.
The Unrevealed Plot
0 comments Published by Shinrikyo on Tuesday, October 13, 2009 at 10/13/2009 11:12:00 AMBeyond a sequestered role I play in this divine unfolding
A tale of thoughts rising towards a higher point of hope
No concern for the fallen lives lead, forgetting wisdom
The colors seen are the comforts held as the sole gain
I dream for the attunement of my soul to the greater joy
For long has all other beacons of life diminished here
Compared to the consequences of walking the median
A golden path revealed to the inner eye, the mystic man
Hidden from the normal tidings of emotions and errors
No fault shall keep the slumbers of the mind from going
Privy to designs of strange concepts, of why and the how
Magnitudes change, and what is seen can never be same
Of what lies across the discriminating line, divulge them
Rather to keep the score settled, and walk the lonely road
There is no doubt, of true solitude nor of the real purpose
Our game remains constant regardless of what the play
And so I remain without qualms, about the role and me
Of how the pieces fit, of what lies after the curtains fall
As long as the light shall shine, these lines should go on
Ecstasy of Mahakut
0 comments Published by Shinrikyo on Sunday, September 13, 2009 at 9/13/2009 04:00:00 PM
Such being my thoughts and line of contemplation for a considerably long time now, I happened to arrive at an interesting and isolated place, far away from the bustle of men and their mental passions. Mahakut as it is known, is a two thousand year old temple complex unlike any other habitat of spiritual peace that I may have encountered in the recent past. There is a presence of sublime energy coursing through the entire reserve which no doubt has been contributed by the countless number of seekers’ penance and piety that has been offered at this spot on earth over the centuries. The architecture and the design would hold the eye and intellect in rapture for hours together, but here is where the idea of reality struck me. I was asked if I was amazed at the sight of the structures, sculptures and bas-reliefs, which I answered in denial because of the realization that what meets the eye is not real, but the sheer experience of the place invoked the divinity within, a sense of satori that filled my whole being with a joy unknown to the material mind. I know with absolute faith that what I am experiencing here is something akin to the real but what that might be, is the question still unanswered.
The whole place has a deserted feel to it, as if people have places more worthy of habitation than this stone city of numerous temples, gigantic lingas and weathered mysteries of rock that are trying to say something profound to the humanity that is deviating from the chosen path. But the abandoned state shows that no one is listening, or at least no one seems to have time for anything profounder than their daily lives and routines. The most interesting fact I encountered here is the enchanting route to the sanctum sanctorum of a temple dedicated to dakshineshwar, or Shiva in the aspect of knowledge, which is carefully hidden underneath the stone foundations of the temple complex. One must completely submerge under water in the temple pond, and an entrance can be located through which the body must be squeezed through, until he or she resurfaces into the small sanctorum. After waiting for a few minutes the eyes get adjusted to the darkness inside and the rock form of the idol, the small linga and the sacred bull can be seen and felt. Rest assured, spending time inside there which is unrestricted by anybody or anything is close to a feeling of an eternity of peace which the soul basks in. Suffice to say that at that instant there was nothing more I wanted in life, for everything that existed till then in mind or as matter was deemed irrelevant to the higher purpose that was revealed. I guess mere words can never completely bring out the true essence of such an experience.
Maybe the answer to the question of what is real and what is not, is that it surely is not the experiencer(ego/body/mind/senses) nor the experienced(objects/theories/world) but it is the experience itself, the noesis encountered which erases both the subject as well as the object. And this cannot be defined or determined by empiric means, only to be realized; thereby the ecstasy which is brought into the life that we live can transcend all our miseries and mysteries. Mahakut showed the end and goal of our journey as the divine experience of the soul, and that everything else in life and in the world are but only means to this end. So it comes as no surprise that this experience is what we revere as God and Truth and Love, and to bathe in this feeling is the highest point of our existence, which we all live and die for.
I’m glad that every place I go and situation I find myself in keeps the remembrance in me alive, that it is the experience that leads me to the unknown and that there is nothing higher than this supreme knowledge.
Aum Tat Sat
The Man Estranged
0 comments Published by Shinrikyo on Monday, September 07, 2009 at 9/07/2009 12:39:00 AMAlone, throughout time and space undivided
These reflections of a forgotten past kept aside
I am only a pale remembrance of your hidden
And provoked, victimized self in subjugation
Facing the light of an unknown source beyond
You stare as if what you see is inexplicable
But never mind the insults added to the pity
I am but what I to chose to be, regardless
Of all the blunt definitions thrown at me
Strange is the fate of one walking the path
A destined ride for someone in search of truth
Not the wicked lies of torment and torture
Bring on the full moon and the mental tides
Watch my revelations, insipid to your eyes
Such that they only see the hunger of desires
Pure am I of all abjection of the heartless
Look me in the eye straight, for you will deem
All that is portrayed to be the plaintive cry
Of the singular soul, the man estranged
Requiem of the Mind
0 comments Published by Shinrikyo on Thursday, August 27, 2009 at 8/27/2009 07:32:00 PM
Hail the victory of survival, the return to the source
For long has it been that I have suffered and slaved
At the tortures of my beloved, the sins of the past
Many have I passed a life in search of the unknown
Always believing that what I see is what I wanted
Beneath all the hidden, the illusions of my destiny
And now that these visions of dread have died
Since the wasted attempts to discover the truth
Have all ended in an irony of longing for the lies
False convictions, unreal revelations uncovered
All that glows of purity is not the seeming divine
Years of wasted deviations from the righteous
Untold fortunes all amassed have turned to dust
So here is the cutting path of light, the final cut
Deliver me from my self made prison of deception
I choose to die to all that exists in form of existence
Alone I came and in solitude I shall pass away
These bodies of flesh and those of inert stone
All the links and chinks in the binding shackles
Be they of gold and silver, or just rusting barbs
Pricking my conscience, bleeding my lonely heart
The blood that oozes reeks of complex emotions
Choose I did not, these that make up my world
Then why must I dwell on sorrows, keepsakes
Of an insane pretense that I hold on to as mine
Enough said and done, this too shall fall and fade
Bring me my last cup, for I long to taste the bliss
Sweet nectar of ancient grace, of my real nature
What is beyond reason and reality is what I am
No more shall I face the mirror of wicked delusions
Cracked in the revenge of the multitudes of desires
The sky is free and vast, of undivided enamor
Setting free all that embraces the pristine savior
My God is my own, and like the infinite radiance
Of the sun shining forth his glory on one and all
What nestles in the heart of hearts, within mine
A universal serendipity brings forth the power
I have seen, and yet not have I revealed to me
What is common to creation, the highest principle
The new day of a golden harvest has dawned
Preponderance of time shall encircle us no more
Welcome my Self, to this bounty of sublimity
Thus sings this mind its requiem, and in joy
Does it dance to the last tune of its reclamation
A State of Ecstatic Serendipity
0 comments Published by Shinrikyo on Wednesday, August 19, 2009 at 8/19/2009 12:08:00 AM
In a state of constant ecstatic serendipity do I choose my words carefully, for what goes in black and white cannot be taken back, and eventually what goes around definitely comes around. I don’t really know whether this is a fable or fact of life that I choose to write, because sadly I am not in a situation to differentiate between dream and reality. This music that plays around me offers a symposium for the many I’s that reside within me, they can coalesce into a single entity for the sake of clarity or they could remain their individual selves and fight out the truth of what is being delivered here. Whatever maybe the case, that which is being created today within these pages, is but a singular recollection of all that has passed through the screen of life’s varied years, of perception and preponderance of emotions.As the music starts to play does the gods of wisdom bring upon us the unique gift of aftersight, into the realm of tomorrow meeting the ghosts of the unforgotten past, also called the Fourth Realm. In such an instance of reality, did the demigod Nevar descend upon the mortal coil of my mind, guiding me through the pathways of sublime thought and contemplation. The music seemed to reveal a higher agenda through words that escaped those divine lips in a symphony of memories, strangely resembling those of mine. I was quite sure that the pathways were different from dreams, because I know what dreams feel like; these were definitely different and moreover, surreal. Nevar spoke of joy being the absolute basis for all things existing, and that which were to come forth from the Source.
I could not but resist asking what the Source was, for in that state of ecstatic serendipity the Source seemed to be the highest point I could aspire for. This was amusingly not far from the truth.
Nevar said that the Source brought us all into existence and the Source shall call us back home when we are done with our play of life.
The light and shadows of fortune and misery danced to the reverberations of thought and music while I was guided along the pathways, endless in comparison to the roads I walked among lonely nights, hoping to reach the moon and become one with the purity of white there. Desperation drove me once to the edge of reason, and while tiptoeing on the precipice did the cosmic powers ask of my need for salvation. The only answer I could bring forth was my own helplessness. Somehow that worked with them.
Nevar showed me how to skip across the thoughtwaves that didn’t belong to the point of ascension we were chasing. There are seemingly innumerable thoughtwaves in the Fourth Realm, and it is possible for an unguided one to get lost among them, which is what usually happens to ordinary life travellers. But to fortunate ones such as myself, the cosmic powers can send forth one of their own to guide and assist with the ascension.
I remember asking Nevar during our early days of what is meant by the ascension and how would I feel during the process. Nevar laughed, in the beautiful way in which he always laughs. Like how Nature opens her bosom of secrets to reveal the magical beauty that suddenly becomes apparent to the eyes of a mere mortal, spellbound as we stand. That laugh of his can change my perspective without even my realizing the importance I had associated to the questions asked. Because all of a sudden, that laugh can make everything else seem insignificant, and life stands still in all its magnificence.
The echoes rang forth, and the music was reaching an interval of disappearance. I knew it was near the point of ascension, for that is how it always felt like. Do not ask me what the echoes said, for there is no language that can explain their words, nor the feeling associated. But I remember how when the sunlight fell on my skin on a summer evening and the cool breeze under the shade of a fig tree would wipe away the perspiration and induce me to await a violet sunset. The echoes felt the same.
Like every other ascension Nevar asked me to close my mind, and if I hadn’t been on countless such divine trips, I just might have asked how. With a tightening of thoughts, into a collapse of all phenomena in that realm, whatever that made me and my surroundings, the music and the waves, everything fell into a rhythm undifferentiated. I was no more, for I was ever more. The placidity of all that had existed till then became clear, when compared to the frequency of existence in the world into which I had ascended.
Who is Nevar? Who am I?
If there was a need for questions, the answers would have been clearer and prominent for study; but ascension shows the impossibility of doubts, of the need for knowledge. Ascension is deliverance.
And that is how the whole thing came to pass.
Last Day of Spring
0 comments Published by Shinrikyo on Tuesday, August 18, 2009 at 8/18/2009 11:48:00 PMInsane preaching fell tumbling through the yellow walls
The monastery was old, like a witch grown cold in the rain
She hath no more vengeance against the lost souls of earth
The devil may care to put his ear to the last remains of man
Searching for the precious soul, within the lies of the mind
A priest walks down the meadows unaware and unafraid
Of what might be the last day in spring that shone bright
The rivers don’t care for the solitude that belongs to trees
It is but the movement of the ripples to the mighty ocean
But what skies might shade the noon sun from reflections
Upon the waters that keep the river in continuous motion
Last time the priest fell upon the carcass of an old mare
She never did learn the secrets of the ancient forests
Hence without a care she dropped her life for no want
Nor fear of lasting sorrow that haunts all mortal beings
Today her bones still lie in the grass to remind the priest
Of forgotten promises and fulfillment, of being forgiven
For trespasses of the five desires that consume all life
It is now time, he says, for the last and final call to us
Bring forth the truth, lest it may hide among old habits
Lest it may lose its way along the wilderness of pleasure
Do you hear the birds and the butterflies flying away
For no longer is the warmth to remain as the cold comes
The winds may change their course but the sun remains
Yet what the summer held dear shall once more subside
The priest did see all this and more, for he remembered
All that has come shall eventually leave, ‘tis but a circle
Of life and of death, and he was too old to forget now
Saying his farewells to the mare’s bones, and the forest
He slowly retraced his steps back to the yellow monastery
This fall shall be wet, said he, and the winter so cold
But no more witches of old remain, to bother his walks
