Pastiches

[Diebert van Rhijn]

Out of inner turmoils of senses and feelings gestates the vital image of genius, guiding shapes of thought as they are producing the direction of words which are fueling the behavior, which are forming the habits, which build the values, which construct our particular destiny and meaning, which all can and will feed back into clearing or fogging the image through which all is created.

All our war and peace depends upon the harmony or disharmony of the temporal with the infinite.

[Diebert van Rhijn]

Within or outside the herd: still the pack animal.

All the centuries of being imprinted, commanded, pushed to load up, to take on the duty, the pressure and suffering -- even until he sees it as something inherently good, as a must, as a moral obligation to do so, to suffer the immense burdens of self-existence, of our life drama, of battling evil or feeling its terrible weight with the ancient oppressor's footprint still there on the soul.

We have made religions out of the celebration of serfdom, the slave morality: a broken, tamed, defanged animal now worshiping its comatose existence as "good", even as mere ideal, because somehow it cannot be realized --perfectly.

How much deformity! And we even don't obey that well, either? We have our little protest, our small indignation going, to warm our beaten, cold selves with. Nobody got "beaten" down by life since it's only life which sometimes seems to lift up or seduce, perhaps even sedates and making us forget. Each and every suffering just unpleasantly reminding us of something else, of our birth and all that came with it.

Poor fragment human, poor pack animal! Can you still become the lion to rip open the packages, to shake off the burdens? And what would happen? Could you even walk without such weight? Like a hermit crab, would you just scuttle back into some other shell? Freedom is a heavy price to pay because the weights have molded you. It might be impossible to cast them away because how to unfold what's folded so deep inside? And didn't you become yourself now these very folds? Nobody could ever undo himself after all.

[jupiviv]

"A whore has plenty of husbands.
Who will she burn with?"

[Santiago Odo]

In the midst of the sky's temples
Blooms a flower.

[Pam Seeback]

Diebert: All the centuries of being imprinted, commanded, pushed to load up, to take on the duty, the pressure and suffering -- even until he sees it as something inherently good, as a must, as a moral obligation to do so, to suffer the immense burdens of self-existence, of our life drama, of battling evil or feeling its terrible weight with the ancient oppressor's footprint still there on the soul.

Then, in one moment steeped with the potential of absolute liberation, we realize the ancient oppressor's footprint is none other than our own. Can we keep our eye open is the only meaningful question of that terrible, wonderful day...

We have made religions out of the celebration of serfdom, the slave morality: a broken, tamed, defanged animal now worshiping its comatose existence as "good", even as mere ideal, because somehow it cannot be realized --perfectly.

'Imperfection of Other' is the ignorant human cry of the unconscious God.

How much deformity! And we even don't obey that well, either? We have our little protest, our small indignation going, to warm our beaten, cold selves with. Nobody got "beaten" down by life itself since it's only that life which, sometimes, seems to lift us up or seduces, perhaps even sedates and making us forget. Each and every suffering just unpleasantly reminding us of something else, of our birth and all that came with it.

Poor fragment human, poor pack animal! Can you still become the lion to rip open the package, to shake off the burden? And what would happen? Could you even walk without such weight? Like a hermit crab, would you just scuttle back into someone else's shell? Freedom is a heavy price to pay because the weights have molded you. It might be impossible to cast them away because how do you unfold what's folded so deep inside? And you are now yourself these very folds! Nobody could ever undo himself after all.

The deep folds open when the soul runs no more from the falseness of Other - where is there to run in One? Stand in the suffering of Illusion's going, Wisdom says, stand and do not move. But if you should fall, even if it is a thousand times, I am here to remind you of what is true: not-two, not-two, not-two...

Is it not worth suffering the burden-burning so the burden will come no more?

[jupiviv]

In the midst of the sky's temples
Blooms a flower.

"IOHYMENHYMENAEEIO
IOHYMENHYMENAEE"

[Diebert van Rhijn]

-- I suppose I should explain the purpose of a thread called "pastiches". The idea is to explore your own philosophy but with a bit more awareness or emphasis of a particular style or origination. So far I've paraphrased using terminology and style (as far as present in a translation) of Mohandas Gandhi and Khazrat Inayat Khan. Actually the first post was based on an exchange between them. Second post was obviously Nietzschean including the bad clunky translation that most people use to read his work. The content can be discussed of course but from my point of view I've said the same thing a hundred times before. New threads are always welcome to pick something apart to make it richer.

This next one is for Pam, using something perhaps closer to her, the gospel of Philip.

[Diebert van Rhijn]

The unwise does not die, for he has never lived in order that he may die. As for the nature of wisdom, also called "the barren", she is the mother of all angels. And so the companion of the wise is called Mary Magdalene. And he will love her more than all his followers, audiences or families.

[Pam Seeback]

The unwise does not die, for he has never lived in order that he may die. As for the nature of wisdom, also called "the barren", she is the mother of all angels. And so the companion of the wise is called Mary Magdalene. And he will love her more than all his followers, audiences or families.

My pastiche on your pastiche:

The ignorant, because they mistake the perishable for the imperishable or believe the perishable can be made imperishable, strive in vain to light the fire of the spirit with the ashes of the self.

Wisdom of the imperishable waits for the ashen ones to weary of hunting for that which cannot be caught, and then, and only then, She comes. And when She comes, She uses the perishable only to awaken the soul to the light of the imperishable, emblazening its spirit with words that open it to truth.

Those souls that seek for their spirit to be emblazened so truth will be opened come to love wisdom and keep Her closer than they do the people and things of their perishable world.

And because they love Her not so they will be loved but for her knowledge of the imperishable, She loves them tenderly and purely as the Sunflower loves the Bee.

[jufa]

We are products of a society of hearsay and conformity. And we individually have been indoctrinated by religion, cults, opinionated dead and alive philosophers, psychologist, scientist, political politician, and ignorant slothful, selfish people who shaped and turned the wheels of our minds, leading us to the desert where the plague of human material mirages and the law of matter and the law of mind dwell.

Walking in this wasteland desert our human lives are constructed from the sands of human wisdom and maturity garnered from childhood, adolescence, and adulthood we accept or reject of peculiarities we are still submissive to in agreement to our particular cultural brainwashing, and traits of living which have become the mask of our own deception, and that which we present to others. So deceitfully we cast shadows of ourselves of being wise, yet when we are alone we realize we cannot get pass the infectious disease of our human dual mind set. Nor can we get over the reality it has always been ourselves we must eliminate by taking back our true will of obedience and righteousness of Life--"Father, into thy hand I commend my spirit."


Never give power to anything a person believes is their source of strength - jufa