One senior's travels on the knowledge path to Moksha, using poetry, essays, and stories as a means of transportation.
- The Ancient Hippie
- Retired from 10 years in the Canadian Navy, and 28 years in the Canadian Diplomatic Service, with postings in Beijing, Mexico City, Sri Lanka, Romania, Abu Dhabi, Guyana, Ireland, Trinidad, and, last but not least, India.
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
Quantum Magic: The Case for Meditation
I was possessed
of a kind of
spell, I suppose
in which
I was watching me,
being me
living my life
understanding
that the perspectives
are Infinite
but the effects
of the Possession
linger
Aum
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
The Flower Garden
The man revelled in the beauty of all things,
the woman had a deep appreciation
of order and the aesthetic.
Together they raised a family,
where harmony, balance,
and love was the standard.
Their cottage was neat, and,
although small and rather common,
reflected the love within
through the medium of a flower garden.
This simple garden made allowances
for the occasional flowering weed,
for the less flamboyant blossoms,
for the wild, for the climbers,
for the ground covers:
simple blooms all,
yet, together
they made a garden
fragrant and beautiful,
balanced and thoughtful,
with unexpected nooks,
where one could find
a strong sense of peace.
In the nearby town
people with kindred spirits
prospered, loved,
helped the less fortunate,
and gave guidance and comfort
to the troubled,
care and treatment to the ill,
fostering an environment
of respect and tolerance.
Towns and cities with similar qualities
comprised a respected country
with global peers,
equal amongst equals.
Their green planet floated,
alone and serene,
in a single universe,
where order and balance reigned,
and chaos was kept at bay.
In my world
chaos rules:
corporations plan a New World Order
in which a self-appointed elite
control politicians who mandate
military adventurism,
and banks cause orchestrated crashes
to transfuse tax monies
into corporate coffers.
The middle class is demoted,
through loss of wages and benefits,
and repeal of social programs,
to the role of serfs,
accepting part-time work
to fuel a consumer frenzy
of overextended budgets,
of credit financing,
encouraged by compliant media.
Religions hate each other
while preaching love;
people are demeaned and killed
for their sexual preference;
others are ridiculed for their ethnicity,
or their handicap,
or the way they speak,
or who their parents are:
people hate,
and that hate engenders
and empowers
a brutish rage that rules,
and ultimately affects us all.
In my universe,
one of innumerable that coexist forever,
chaos produces a cloud of energy
attracted by our global negativity,
that rushes,
at the speed of light,
to destroy the cosmic balance,
and any flower garden
that could ever have existed.
Monday, 4 October 2010
The Waiting Room
Hindus believe that only Brahman exists, and all else is illusion (maya), including all creation. According to Hinduism, there is no start or finish of creation, only continuing successions of life and death. The soul (atman) of man is a "spark" of Brahman trapped in the physical body. Repeated lives or reincarnations (samsara) are required before the soul can be liberated (moksha) from the body. An individual's present life is determined by his efforts in previous lives (the law of karma), and the physical body is ultimately an illusion (maya). Bodies are usually cremated, and the soul goes to an intermediate state of punishment or reward before rebirth into another body. Reincarnations are experienced until karma has been removed and the individual soul is reabsorbed into Brahman.
Http://allaboutreligion.org
The Waiting Room
Humanity’s main conceit is that
we have an egocentric view
of our world,
of the universe,
of eternity.
Both science and religion teach
that much is beyond
our feeble understanding.
Still, though, we continue
our frantic and self-centred race
through a life
concerned solely
with hedonism,
with possession,
with sensation,
with status.
.
We pay slight attention
to salvation,
to atonement,
to the divine retribution
required by vengeful gods.
We ignore scientific knowledge,
preferring instead
the joy of instant gratification.
We abjure prudence,
swearing fealty
to the golden calf
of indulgence.
What, then, if the Vedas are correct,
and we all return to Brahman
for our Karma to be weighed,
attaining moksha,
or reincarnation?
What, then, if the Bible is right,
and we can live forever
through sincere belief?
What, then, if quantum cosmology is correct,
and other universes exist
near enough to be touched?
Our senses tell us
that here is now,
that then is past,
that when is tomorrow.
Imagine our surprise
when we discover the profound Truth
that our lives
are merely tickets,
upon which we inscribe,
through our living,
the destination to which we depart
from this waiting room
of Now.
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The Ancient Hippie
Welcome, and Namaste
Greetings fellow travellers,
For you American friends visiting, you will notice that this old Canadian uses Canadian English in this blog: kindly bear with me. As I blog primarily on subjects that are vitally interesting to me, I appreciate all feedback.
As I tend to be a bit of a language usage freak, I will, as required, edit obscenity and rude comments. That said, I welcome your opinions and discussion.
May your Dharma be clear
Peace
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended:
That you have but slumb'red here,
While these visions did appear."
Puck’s epilogue to A Midsummer Night’s Dream
For you American friends visiting, you will notice that this old Canadian uses Canadian English in this blog: kindly bear with me. As I blog primarily on subjects that are vitally interesting to me, I appreciate all feedback.
As I tend to be a bit of a language usage freak, I will, as required, edit obscenity and rude comments. That said, I welcome your opinions and discussion.
May your Dharma be clear
Peace
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended:
That you have but slumb'red here,
While these visions did appear."
Puck’s epilogue to A Midsummer Night’s Dream