When the fires are raging,
don’t add fuel
and the two worlds
(the inner and the outer)
subside into their natural state.

When the dogs
of dissension and desire
are sleeping,
don’t wake them
and the world is already cool and quiet.


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God sees with the same eye
you see with, says Meister Eckhart.

Do you live your life,
Or does Life live through you?

Do you breathe
to stay alive,
Or does the Life-breath
breathe you?

Life lives and blossoms
through Nature
and thus Nature can heal itself.

Man tries to live his life
and opens wounds
that even Nature
struggles to heal.

Who lives man’s life
and is it any more than
what we have come to call the Ego?

Is Ego any more than a bundle
of thoughts and feelings
spawned by an insatiable quest for more?

A pinpoint of Desire,
smaller than a globule of blood,
that has flooded into an ocean
of craving and passion,
which parches the tongues
of those who drink from it.

When you say “my life”,
who is I and what is this life?
Is “I and my life” any more
than an intruder
that slipped in between the sheets?
A tapeworm fitting snugly
between your food and you?

When I ask you how you are,
your tapeworm answers,

He has been answering on your behalf
for so long that you take him for
your true abiding Self.

See him for the interloper that he is.
Let him slide out
as long ago
his proglottid of eggs slid in,
unnoticed and unremarked.

The ego slides in
between your divine eye and what you see
like the rose-tinted lens
between your fleshy eye
and your world.


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This flowering of the Human Spirit
is a reaching out
into the empty wasteland
of the egoic mind
in search of
the lost gardens of Eden.

This fruitless endeavour
to fill its wasteland
with memories
of its past (My was)
and thoughts
of its future (My will be)

is stitched together with
the voice in the head
(about me)
and my videos
(about me);

all projected upon
the long forgotten
and unseen background
of Here and Now.

This wasteland is as insatiably hungry
and eternally empty
as the ever-present Eden
is eternally full
and overflowing
with more than enough
for a million universes.

Switch off the Projector
labelled “Thought”
and let the gentle light shine through;
and feel the gentle Peace arising,
eternally forgiving,
and unsought.


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The Mouse
that scuttles down the bank
across the bricks
and back again,
carries no wallet
and all its baggage
is in the simplicity
of its brain.

The Bird that slides
across the wind
has left its briefcase
in a former life,
together with its house
its mortgage
(and its wife).

The Beetle with antlers like a stag’s
needs no loan,
pays no tax
and lives inside its bone.

Only Man
has spread his thought
far and wide;
is caught in its pulsating web,
and, grasping every thread,
is trapped inside.


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It is not Atlas
who carries on his shoulders
the world
with all its teeming life forms
its cities and citizens
its poets and fools.

It is the breath of life
which fans the vital heat
each time it cools.

Watching the breath
you enter into that empty space
between Life and Death.


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The fountain
reaches upwards into space
and, finding nothing
to sustain it there,
falls back into its proper place.

And in this endless
rise and fall,
we see the start and finish
of us all.

Time flies
through summer and through wintry skies;
measures elephants and butterflies,
marks where this is born and that one dies.
See the world dissolve and fade before your dying eyes!


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Even the smallest wave or ripple
is supported
by the whole ocean.

Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings?
And not one of them
shall fall to the ground
without your Father.

If the waves would cease to wave
(and leave their waving behind),
they would lose nothing
and gain Everything.


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