This is Not the End - Fred LaMotte

This is not the end of the world, but the beginning.  A time to
do something New.  Old ideologies, religions, political concepts
of left and right, dry up and fall like brittle leaves, all swept
away, destroyed by a gentle breath of Presence.

You are not "shifting" into a new dimension, a new age, or a
higher level of consciousness.  You are dissolving all dimensions
into one whole awareness, which cannot be divided into levels,
planes, star-ages, or degrees of initiation.  You must evaporate
 these illusions into energy itself.  This is your real Dharma,
your real Duty.  It transforms the earth.

This alchemy does not happen in times.  The effortless sinking
of Presence into deeper Presence has no duration...

Simply turn from your fearful angry mind to the space between
your thoughts, which is the space between the stars, which is the
radiant clarity of an open heart.  Then let the whole creation
burst form that cornucopia of emptiness.

Root down in the hollow of your seed, be naked, drop every
garment of belief.  Let go of your hope and your story.  Relax
into the divine darkness of uncertainty, the wound of not knowing.
The the glory of ten billion suns will blossom from the stillness
between your heartbeats.

Miracles 

happen in the field of the effortless.  Repose in the 
diamond point of no-thing, where exhalation ends and
inhalation begins.  This is the glowing dimension-less bindhu,
the seed of the wild flower of grace, just an inch or two in front
of your chest.

Breathe down into That, and for one eternal instant be breathless.
Galaxies whirl out of this space.  It is the loam of stars. Here,
the earth is refreshes and recreated.  Come and see for yourself.
Bring all your relations.

Fred LaMotte

Uradiance

 

Fierce Grace - Matt Licata

The Soul is always communicating with us.  The great Friend
is always looking for us, in the hope of drawing us nearer,
but often in ways that are unexpected and even bewildering
to the part of us that believes it's in control.

There are times in our lives when the most precious beliefs
and realizations fall apart and dissolve...  What was so clear
only days or weeks ago is transformed to dust.

In order to get our attention, the Soul must at times upset and
dissolve the status quo, turning inside out the dreams and
fantasies of me and the life I thought I was living... causing us
to see that perhaps we have no idea who and what we are, what
a relationship is, what the Divine is, and where we will find
meaning.

The reassembling of our world is a sacred process...

As we deepen our inquiry, we might start to see this activity
of somatic and psychic restructuring as the expression of a
certain kind of grace... not the sweet, flowy, and expansive
grace that is our favorite kind, but a grace that is fierce and
wild and can have a certain disassembling energy to it.

It is the [fierce] grace of Kali, or that of the wrathful Tibetan
goddesses, a raging grace, a creative and destructive
reorganization of consciousness.
But it is grace nonethless.

Matt Licata 

~

FunQi Art - Mystic Meandering

2012

 

Heart Sutra Discourse #2 by Osho

Photo by David Peters

At the very core of life, death exists.
Hidden in it is the greatest freedom.

Death is not an ax that cuts down the tree of life.
Death is making love to God, or God making love to you.
Death is cosmic.

You don't remain like you.
You don't remain as an entity.
You don't remain defined,
identified with anything.

You disappear into the Whole.

Learn to die consciously...

excerpt from The Heart Sutra, Discourse #2 by Osho

 

Pathless - Fred LaMotte

 I breathe in darkness, breathe out light, but pranayama is
not my way.  I bend and bow and honor the tides in my
spine, but asanas are not my way.

I savor the name of God, but the Word is not my way. I
honor the Guru, but my path has no master.

Though I listen to the songs and suras of the wise, I follow
not the Vedas, the Torah, the Qur'an.

I give to those in need, but the path of seva is not for me.  I
surrender, Lord, but even You, even You, are not my way.
Parasam Gateh, "beyond the beyond," is where I am right now.

With no chant, no altar, no eucharist or puja, I wander in the
forest, offering the silence of cedar, trillium, fern.

At midnight, soundless owl wings, bright knives of un-knowing,
slice through the glory of darkness.  Coyote howl is my song.

And because the light of primeval stars is only now arriving
in my body, I am awake.

Each electron bathes in the glory of its origin.  Every photon
collides with the darkest particle of its other self.  I follow the
wordless path of this breath Om.

But my way is not a journey, it passes neither in nor out, but
shatters every window between seer and seen, sinking every
vessel in the ocean of transparency.

I have trillions of eyes, gazing into the well of eternal aloneness,
where past and future kiss, annihilating time.  This very
moment is the diamond of my awakening.

I achieve the beatific vision of celestial mansions, simply by
gazing at the motionless explosion of a rose.

Every religion a blood-colored petal of this, but I would offer
the whole flower, the wounded bud which opens in all directions
at once.

Where I Am there are no steps, no degrees of initiation, no levels
one to seven: only fragrances, only dissolving.

Each lineage of masters is a pollen mote, but I have sticky feet. 
I visit the center, where the nectar is made in secret darkness.

Down where the pistil and stamen touch in a throb of stillness.
Come, drink.....

Fred LaMotte
Uradiance

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

Dissolve - Fred LaMotte

Rosette Nebula - From: The Invisible Universe
by David Malin

 Stars dissolve into a rose. A rose dissolves into stars. Ask Dante.

The solution is dissolution.  What dissolves?  Separateness.

I am not my skin color.  I am not my tribe.  I am not even my
gender.  I wear these veils and garments, just as I have a red
shirt or a Yankees cap on: but they are not my Self.

Nor am I my political party, my nation, or my religion.  And I
am not my ancestors.  These are marvelous incidents, but not
my Essence.  The core of my existence is prior to labels,
identifications, masks.  Yes, I enjoy wearing them, dancing in
them, playing in their forms.  I need not renounce them,
because they were never really "mine" to begin with.  In deep
meditation, these forms dissolve like the dreams they are.
Then I Am.

In deep meditation, the core of existence reveals itself as the
One who cannot be divided into races, tribes, religions, parties,
yet who plays in them all as light playing in a kaleidoscope.
The revelation transcends thought and imagination.  It is the
Self-image of the Imageless.  Groundless, brilliant, empty, it
is nowhere and everywhere.  It is the Holy of Holies.

Emerging from meditation, I need no longer look for that place.
I look from that place.  Then it is impossible to identify any
color or creed, any political or spiritual movement, as "me."
I am simply who Am.

The verb "Am" is solid as a diamond, boundless as the sky.
Who needs to say, "I Am a man, I Am a liberal, I Am a Buddhist,
I Am a white or a black?  Not I.  Just Am.  Those labels of
identity make the mind small.  No noun, no-thing, ever really
follows the verb To Be.

Fred LaMottte
Uradiance