The Real World

As I found myself today with my mind spinning over the faults in my world, the imperfections of myself and others, about how the world should be by the way I want it to be, I finally got a chance to sit quietly in contemplation. I then randomly opened "A Course in Miracles' and "Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi" and I was gently brought back to my knowing.

Sit quietly and look upon the world you see, and tell yourself: "The real world is not like this. It has no buildings and there are no streets where people walk alone and separate. There are no stores where people buy an endless list of things they do not need. It is not lit with artificial light, and night comes not upon it. There is no day that brightens and grows dim. There is not loss. Nothing is there but shines, and shines forever."--ACIM

Does the realized being tell you that the world is full of pain? It is the other one who feels the pain and seeks the help of the wise saying that the world is painful. Then the wise one explains from his experience that if one withdraws within the self there is an end of pain. The pain is felt so long as the object is different from oneself. But when the self is found to be an undivided whole who and what is there to feel? The realized mind is the Holy Spirit and the other mind is the home of the devil. For the realized being this is the Kingdom of Heaven. "The Kingdom of Heaven is within you." That Kingdom is here and now.--Ramana

I have just finished Anastasia, by Vladimir Megre. It was recommended to me by a friend who owns a metaphysical bookstore after I told him about a dream dealing with Russians. This true story is about a very worldly Russian business man and his meeting with Anastasia who lives out in the middle of Siberia, with little or no clothing, no shelter and her food supplied to her by the creatures and plants around her. For most readers this story will be far fetched to be believed. And I had my doubts halfway through it, even after having the joy of meeting such extraordinary people in my journeys. However, after attempting to connect with her and getting an immediate "electrical charge" and a subsequent dream, I have no doubts that this being exists. And we are lucky that she does. She is a complete embodiment of Truth, Beauty and Goodness, of what an evolved Human is to be. This book is filled with her amazing insights that are reminiscent of Rudolf Steiner's. I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to invite some sweet purity into their lives.

The Rider in the Sky

O God, I saw in the sky the other day
Wisps of cloud in the shape of a horseman,
Scattering the other clouds with his cry.

The walls of city towers shook,
And the birds in the sky flew silent;
Yet no one in the city did hear;
No one in the city did see.

Who was this rider across the sky?
Was it truly one of the four the preachers and priests
Have thumped over their congregations’ heads
With the threat of the wrath of You?

I cannot but laugh at the thought of You filled with wrath.
It is like the sky filled with fish.

I know this horseman,
Whose name is Death,
Has been sent not from You,
But from human minds.

How is it that the Eternal
Can know this specter called Death?
Can water know this thing called dryness?

Only those who continue to believe
They are nothing but a bag of flesh and bones,
Who know not the Self,
Will meet this lord of death,
Who rides howling across the sky.

Yet the very ones who created such a god,
Stare straight ahead as they speed down the road,
To lock themselves in little cubicles
And to turn on the magic box.

Lest they see that ride,
Lest they hear that cry.

O silly ones, who close your eyes and ears,
This rider comes not to destroy.
He comes to be released from time’s unending task.
He cries to quit, to walk away from his job.

But no one hears him.
No one sees.
So he must rip apart bodies and draw away breaths,
To knock down the towers and tear away the cubicles,
Until his creators have cried out:

“Enough!”

Until they have looked inside and found the Eternal Self,
Where Death is dissolved like a spider’s web
Licked by a dancing flame.

O seeker of God,
Know that this rider of the winds
Is the greatest of friends.

He will only touch you
If you see me and you,
And you chase after this and that,
And think your happiness is but outside.

While, at the same time,
you build security boxes
To keep that same outside from coming in.

Janaka has heard this cry
And has seen this ride,
And has laughed with his pants around his ankles,

As the rider galloped to run him down.

--"Footprints Along the Shores of Time," Janaka Stagnaro