The truth is not outside. Everything outside your Self can only serve as a reflection of your inner nature.
The search for truth outside the Self will lead nowhere. It won’t be found in any dogma, religion, system, belief, or practice. All these can do is show adumbrations of the inner truth.
Like the sun reflects itself on the water, so can the inner self reflect its light on the surface of the mind. The clear, silent mind reflects the light of our solar nature, our true Self.
The real value of the mind is as a tool to examine and realize the futility of it’s own efforts. When the mind realizes its own futility, it drops the effort and simply reflects the inner light in the silence of its non-doing.
Check out this episode of my Toltec Survivor podcast!
“The organic body is the key to our evolution… What then makes up this organic body? It is, at it’s root, vibration… It is a consciousness that uses the energy around it. This is the Noumenal Self, beyond the phenomenal appearance. This Noumenal Self rides the waves of existence, of phenomenal existence, experiencing life and the ending of life. It moves from one lifetime to another; and even at this instant, it is riding the waves of manifested energy; it’s phenomenal body is, at all moments, being created and destroyed without itself ever being created nor destroyed.
Your Noumenal Self is the source of the flame of your existence. It is the invisible being that burns the oxygen and consumes the material it feeds on, creating the flame of the fire. The Flame is a process, not a material thing. So your life is a process, and not a thing… the flame of life is what we, as Noumenal Selves, are using as the fuel that burns. The body is the candle that burns through the lifetime; the oxygen is the spirit energy that we call life; and the flame is the soul that we call the being; the Self, the dream self that lives and experiences throughout this lifetime. Invisible and eternal, the Noumenal Self is the one that makes the flame burn and moves from flame to flame, clothed with the radiance of the flame…”
Excerpt from The Golden Flower, by Koyote the Blind
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The students marching and the anti-NRA voices are all about setting up limits on the types of weapons that can be purchased. The most “radical” voices are also calling for higher age limits and for hoops that would make it harder for people associated with gangs, violent crimes, and hate groups to get them. Arguments against any of these points are a reasonable contribution to the dialogue. However, when you pretend that all proposals are “have the government confiscate all weapons”, you are only shouting the same straw man fallacy to the wind. No past president, no marches, and no agenda exists to confiscate all your weapons. There is no dialogue possible if you can’t really address the real argument. You are against “confiscating all weapons.” So? No one is proposing that. If you can’t address the actual petition, your voice will not be heard.
In the end, when that legislation passes, you will feel unheard and will fail to realize that when you had the chance you never said anything about it, because you spent all your time voicing the fallacies concocted by the NRA and never brought reason to bear. My suggestion: address the real proposals using reason and the constitution (or what is best for the nation, if the constitution does not cover it already). Shouting slogans against proposals no one is making is a losing game.
All things base and low
are equal and seek the same.
As crabs in the crate.
Suffering is just a passing shadow, like any other experience. Holding on to it as if it’s more real or more noble is only a desperate attempt at subverting force and turning weakness into strength.
I used to rent an apartment in a big city. The walls were shared with neighbors on each side. The floor was someone’s ceiling, and my ceiling was someone else’s floor. Surrounded by walls and divisions up and down and all around which already were used by someone else, I couldn’t help but wonder: what am I paying for when I pay rent?
“Doors and windows,” said the sunlight. “Doors and windows.”
Today there is no volcano in my view.
No people. No path. No city. No humming.
Today, it’s just the fog that dissolves millions of worlds as it becomes more clear and solid, existing within me and without me.
The word that tells me that there is an external reality is no longer dead. The gate keeper is dead.
Who, then, punishes the archangels? Or do they exist inside me, in caravans?
Do they exist in a room, collecting dust and gathering the consciousness of little children?
Does the manticore fly? Does the unicorn travel on solar currents?
Is the man in the cross still there looking at me with those eyes, asking me if I know that I am there nailed to the same cross, to the same creation, unable to move and therefore only able to upscale or downscale?
Ya que es de noche,
Y la diosa se extiende
En su infinito silencio,
Digo “gracias, mujer.”
Por tu lucha eterna.
Por tu resistencia inmutable.
Por tu omnipotente entrega.
Now that it’s night,
And the goddess extends
In her infinite silence,
I say, “thank you, woman.”
For your eternal fight.
For your inmutable resistance.
For your omnipotent yield.
Lo, the chrysalis!
Which being at once Tomb and Womb,
is Nothing and All.
What is a dream if not the illusion that separates, as an invisible barrier, the I from the other? And this isolation, eternal to the dreamer and non-existent to the sleeper, forges its trance into a cacophony of desire, longing, love.