Advaita Notebook  

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        April 2011       













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





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
Anything






Advaita only studies itself
And nonduality is

The search ended
Before it began
Because it always was
Itself






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
Happening






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
Done
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
Listen!









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






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
Clear







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
Yourself
Seems less urgent


























   

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