Advaita Notebook  

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        April 2011       

The silliness of the world
And the confidence of fools
Point to

It's not that
You are God
And you have to do something

It's that
God is you
And you have to do nothing

Instead of protecting yourself
For safety
Demolish yourself
For freedom

Be no one
And do nothing
Because you are

It doesn't matter
What you don't believe
As long as you
Don't believe

Advaita only studies itself
And nonduality is

The search ended
Before it began
Because it always was

Advaita not two
Not even one

The illusion of pain

Hurts so much

When a great storm
Overpowers you
You have to go with it
And it has

If you're crying
Isn't that just as good

Aren't your tears worth
As much or more
Than insights

Who decides the order
Of preference
When all arrives
Higgledy piggledy
As everything?

You do of course
Already as the one
You wanted

Experts on sleep
Are awake

Authorities on death
Are alive

Professors of God
Are human

Judgement happens
You can't judge it

If you do though
It's just judgement

They can't help doing
What you judge them for
And you can't help doing
What you judge yourself for

Any movement is already
Before you can do it

Forgive yourself
Even for not forgiving

Freedom is definitely
Not a theory

You are

If you get even a tiny hint
Of freedom
Know the source must be
In full swing
And singing

Everything is already
Speaking to you
Of freedom

If you don't become
You'll be stuck with
This same old

If you worship the holy
The unholy becomes lonely

It's not these concepts
That are of any use
It's the wiping away
Of these concepts
And finally
The wiping away
Of that

You try to know the secret
When all authorities
Know nothing

Yet this is the hint
You're after

The sage knows you are
An illusion
But are you your illusion
Or his?

And the sage knows
He is an illusion
But is he his illusion
Or yours?

You are so cleverly disguised
As yourself
You'd never know

The sage told me
He too
Was not the doer
And that his doing
And my undoing
Were being done

What you say
Is said
Meaning is another story

You understand thoughts and
Ants understand pheromones
But neither are spoken
In heaven

When meaninglessness
Loses its meaning
Truth becomes

Freedom is
No longer knowing
What you want

The price of freedom
Is everything you desired

Great relief and peace
Is what happens
When you stop searching
For it

Neti neti
Negating things
Helps free you
From what wasn't there

There is no learning
Only unlearning
So becoming a teacher
Seems less urgent


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