SINCE BEFORE TIME
AKASHA TAO CORE SILENCE
SURVIVES
MAN-MADE BELIEFS, DRAMAS AND DESTRUCTION..
THAT IS THE WAY OF NATURE....SO THEY BELIEVE...
HOWEVER.....
∞
ONLY THE HUMAN MINDING-MIND BELIEVES
∞
ALL ELSE
JUST IS
∞∞
BE THE IMMORTAL THAT
THAT
JUST IS*
<
AH!
SIMPLICITY OF BEING
ew
3:27AM-7/7/18
*See Read More at end of Afternoon photos
and/or find here:
http://alovinghealingspace.blogspot.com/2018/07/happy-83rd-birthday-to-dalai-lama.html
AKASHA TAO CORE SILENCE
SURVIVES
MAN-MADE BELIEFS, DRAMAS AND DESTRUCTION..
THAT IS THE WAY OF NATURE....SO THEY BELIEVE...
HOWEVER.....
∞
ONLY THE HUMAN MINDING-MIND BELIEVES
∞
ALL ELSE
JUST IS
∞∞
BE THE IMMORTAL THAT
THAT
JUST IS*
<
AH!
SIMPLICITY OF BEING
ew
3:27AM-7/7/18
*See Read More at end of Afternoon photos
and/or find here:
http://alovinghealingspace.blogspot.com/2018/07/happy-83rd-birthday-to-dalai-lama.html
The Daily Lesson – July 7, 2018
“With each meditation there must be this surrender
of ourselves to the Spirit within,
together with a realization that God's grace is our sufficiency
and that we are in meditation for the express purpose
of receiving the comfort of His presence.
Nothing greater can come to us
than the still small voice of assurance
because then we know
that all of Infinity is pouring Itself out for us,
all of Omnipotence,
and in that there can be no power apart from God.”
~Joel S Goldsmith
A Parenthesis in Eternity
The Voice is Still – we must be still to hear it.
~Al Denninger
See Full Sharing here:
www.iwso.org/thedailylesson.htm
“With each meditation there must be this surrender
of ourselves to the Spirit within,
together with a realization that God's grace is our sufficiency
and that we are in meditation for the express purpose
of receiving the comfort of His presence.
Nothing greater can come to us
than the still small voice of assurance
because then we know
that all of Infinity is pouring Itself out for us,
all of Omnipotence,
and in that there can be no power apart from God.”
~Joel S Goldsmith
A Parenthesis in Eternity
The Voice is Still – we must be still to hear it.
~Al Denninger
See Full Sharing here:
www.iwso.org/thedailylesson.htm
AFTERNOON
No afternoon beach stroll for today...was Sequestered in Transparency In-Abode
...the below photos all from (Random-Pick) 11/30/2014
"Call It Grace"
See OceanSpeak for this date:
https://dorotheamills.weebly.com/oceanspeak-and-more/call-it-gracethat-needs-not-devour-sunriseafternoon-nov-30-2014
To be a space of love in this wasteland, amidst this desolation.
It is here
—in this space made of prayers and devotion, of longing and love--
that real magic can happen.
It is here
—in this space made of prayers and devotion, of longing and love--
that real magic can happen.
We are the place where the worlds meet, where miracles can be born.
If we live attuned to what is Real,
we can be a remembrance that comes alive,
a promise once again made possible.
Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee
For Love of the Real: A Story of Life's Mystical Secret,
Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee's new book is now available,
please click here for advance book details.
https://goldensufi.org/a_Postscript_and_Prelude.html
If we live attuned to what is Real,
we can be a remembrance that comes alive,
a promise once again made possible.
Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee
For Love of the Real: A Story of Life's Mystical Secret,
Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee's new book is now available,
please click here for advance book details.
https://goldensufi.org/a_Postscript_and_Prelude.html
Desert and void.
The Uncreated is waste and emptiness to the creature.
Not even sand.
Not even stone.
Not even darkness and night.
A burning wilderness would at least be “something.”
It burns and is wild.
But the Uncreated is no something.
Waste. Emptiness.
Total poverty of the Creator;
yet from this poverty springs everything.
Thomas Merton
http://parabola.org/2015/07/20/not-knowing-non-being-and-the-power-of-nothingness-by-llewellyn-vaughan-lee/
The Uncreated is waste and emptiness to the creature.
Not even sand.
Not even stone.
Not even darkness and night.
A burning wilderness would at least be “something.”
It burns and is wild.
But the Uncreated is no something.
Waste. Emptiness.
Total poverty of the Creator;
yet from this poverty springs everything.
Thomas Merton
http://parabola.org/2015/07/20/not-knowing-non-being-and-the-power-of-nothingness-by-llewellyn-vaughan-lee/
One day, in a mood of sublime emptiness,
Subhuti was resting underneath a tree
when flowers began to fall about him.
“We are praising you for your discourse on emptiness,”
the gods whispered to Subhuti.
“But I have not spoken of emptiness,”
replied Subhuti.
“You have not spoken of emptiness,
we have not heard emptiness,”
responded the gods.
"This is the true emptiness.”
The blossoms showered upon Subhuti as rain.
Subhuti was resting underneath a tree
when flowers began to fall about him.
“We are praising you for your discourse on emptiness,”
the gods whispered to Subhuti.
“But I have not spoken of emptiness,”
replied Subhuti.
“You have not spoken of emptiness,
we have not heard emptiness,”
responded the gods.
"This is the true emptiness.”
The blossoms showered upon Subhuti as rain.
And Rumi said:
"No more words.
In the name of this place
we drink in with our breathing,
stay quiet like a flower.
So the nightbirds will start singing."
"No more words.
In the name of this place
we drink in with our breathing,
stay quiet like a flower.
So the nightbirds will start singing."
Through emptiness, the blossoms can fall like rain.
Through silence,
the song of the nightbirds rings out.
In the nothingness,
the heart of the world has space to spin,
has silence to sing.
http://parabola.org/2015/07/20/not-knowing-non-being-and-the-power-of-nothingness-by-llewellyn-vaughan-lee/
Through silence,
the song of the nightbirds rings out.
In the nothingness,
the heart of the world has space to spin,
has silence to sing.
http://parabola.org/2015/07/20/not-knowing-non-being-and-the-power-of-nothingness-by-llewellyn-vaughan-lee/
It is only turning at night to a lover that one learns
He is set apart like a star forever and that sleeping face
(For whom the heart has cried, for whom the frail hand burns)
Is swung out in the night alone, so luminous and still,
The waking spirit attends, the loving spirit gazes
Without communion, without touch, and comes to know at last
Out of a silence only and never when the body blazes
That love is present, that always burns alone, however steadfast.
~May Sarton
Excerpt from:
https://makebelieveboutique.com/2018/07/06/27669/
Also full Sharing
in Read More at end of Afternoon photos
He is set apart like a star forever and that sleeping face
(For whom the heart has cried, for whom the frail hand burns)
Is swung out in the night alone, so luminous and still,
The waking spirit attends, the loving spirit gazes
Without communion, without touch, and comes to know at last
Out of a silence only and never when the body blazes
That love is present, that always burns alone, however steadfast.
~May Sarton
Excerpt from:
https://makebelieveboutique.com/2018/07/06/27669/
Also full Sharing
in Read More at end of Afternoon photos
BE THE IMMORTAL THAT
THAT
JUST IS*
****************************************************************************************
From Matt Licata:
*Wishing His Holiness the Dalai Lama a joyful 83rd birthday and praying for his long life!
I’ll never forget the one and only time I met the Dalai Lama, outside his residence in Dharamsala many years ago. I was quite young, coming off a difficult break-up, heartbroken and wandering alone in the mountains of northern India.
We held hands for a minute and he looked at me with such love and care. I felt so seen by him as he allowed me all the way in to his heart. He wasn’t trying to make my sadness go away or offering some subtle teaching on the insubstantiality of the self or the empty-luminous nature of awareness.
He wasn’t hurling blessings at me so that my pain would be replaced by bliss. He had little interest in fixing or healing anything, but only to make sure I knew that he was right there me, holding my broken open heart close to his. In this own way pointing me back toward the shattered pieces which were somehow filled with wisdom and sacred data for the journey ahead.
He simply spent a moment with me, offering the gift of his presence—totally alive, totally vulnerable, and utterly human. Our meeting spanned a short period of time, but in another way seemed eternal. Those sorts of rare encounters, heart to heart, are precious, and not easily forgotten.
In my experience, the Dalai Lama is a holding environment of vast space and profound kindness; a mountain of love, really; a totally humble, open-hearted, incredibly warm, genuinely kind, authentic human being—someone I have so much to learn from.
May you live long, your Holiness! Thank you for the sweetness you once showed me, in a moment when I really needed it. I'll never forget that.
Matt Licata
http://alovinghealingspace.blogspot.com/2018/07/happy-83rd-birthday-to-dalai-lama.html
THAT
JUST IS*
****************************************************************************************
From Matt Licata:
*Wishing His Holiness the Dalai Lama a joyful 83rd birthday and praying for his long life!
I’ll never forget the one and only time I met the Dalai Lama, outside his residence in Dharamsala many years ago. I was quite young, coming off a difficult break-up, heartbroken and wandering alone in the mountains of northern India.
We held hands for a minute and he looked at me with such love and care. I felt so seen by him as he allowed me all the way in to his heart. He wasn’t trying to make my sadness go away or offering some subtle teaching on the insubstantiality of the self or the empty-luminous nature of awareness.
He wasn’t hurling blessings at me so that my pain would be replaced by bliss. He had little interest in fixing or healing anything, but only to make sure I knew that he was right there me, holding my broken open heart close to his. In this own way pointing me back toward the shattered pieces which were somehow filled with wisdom and sacred data for the journey ahead.
He simply spent a moment with me, offering the gift of his presence—totally alive, totally vulnerable, and utterly human. Our meeting spanned a short period of time, but in another way seemed eternal. Those sorts of rare encounters, heart to heart, are precious, and not easily forgotten.
In my experience, the Dalai Lama is a holding environment of vast space and profound kindness; a mountain of love, really; a totally humble, open-hearted, incredibly warm, genuinely kind, authentic human being—someone I have so much to learn from.
May you live long, your Holiness! Thank you for the sweetness you once showed me, in a moment when I really needed it. I'll never forget that.
Matt Licata
http://alovinghealingspace.blogspot.com/2018/07/happy-83rd-birthday-to-dalai-lama.html
Alone one is never lonely: the spirit
adventures, waking
In a quiet garden, in a cool house, abiding single there;
The spirit adventures in sleep, the sweet thirst-slaking
When only the moon’s reflection touches the wild hair.
There is no place more intimate than the spirit alone:
It finds a lovely certainty in the evening and the morning.
It is only where two have come together bone against bone
That those alonenesses take place, when, without warning
The sky opens over their heads to an infinite hole in space;
It is only turning at night to a lover that one learns
He is set apart like a star forever and that sleeping face
(For whom the heart has cried, for whom the frail hand burns)
Is swung out in the night alone, so luminous and still,
The waking spirit attends, the loving spirit gazes
Without communion, without touch, and comes to know at last
Out of a silence only and never when the body blazes
That love is present, that always burns alone, however steadfast.
~May Sarton
https://makebelieveboutique.com/2018/07/06/27669/
adventures, waking
In a quiet garden, in a cool house, abiding single there;
The spirit adventures in sleep, the sweet thirst-slaking
When only the moon’s reflection touches the wild hair.
There is no place more intimate than the spirit alone:
It finds a lovely certainty in the evening and the morning.
It is only where two have come together bone against bone
That those alonenesses take place, when, without warning
The sky opens over their heads to an infinite hole in space;
It is only turning at night to a lover that one learns
He is set apart like a star forever and that sleeping face
(For whom the heart has cried, for whom the frail hand burns)
Is swung out in the night alone, so luminous and still,
The waking spirit attends, the loving spirit gazes
Without communion, without touch, and comes to know at last
Out of a silence only and never when the body blazes
That love is present, that always burns alone, however steadfast.
~May Sarton
https://makebelieveboutique.com/2018/07/06/27669/
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