To: K-list
Recieved: 2001/01/10 17:39
Subject: Re: [K-list] Life and illusion
From: Carol C.
On 2001/01/10 17:39, Carol C. posted thus to the K-list:
----- Original Message -----
From: ashok sharma <agrostarATnospamnetkracker.com>
To: <Kundalini-GatewayATnospamegroups.com>
Sent: Wednesday, January 10, 2001 3:29 PM
Subject: [K-list] Life and illusion
> Carol C: On life and illusion....
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Thank you ,Ashok. I will keep this because it says so much truth. Love,
Carol
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> Not all the learned savants, now engaged
> On consciousness-research, to ascertain
> The plot and action of the drama staged
> And how, it is enacted by the brain,
> Can e'er contrive in e'en a hundred years
> To life the veil this World-Enchanter wears,
> This great exploit, to match with nature's plan,
> Must be himself performed by every man.
> ............., for this boundless Whole
> Is but a veiled reflection of his soul,
> Which Consciousness itself does build and plan
> To see, perplexed, the Play as mortal man.
>
> Where is the cosmos, what source lies behind
> The hasty verdicts of the agonostic mind?
> Wherefrom arise ideas, conceptions, views
> And all the mass of learning,stories,news
> With which the world is flooded in our day?
> Whence comes what,we believe or what we say?
>
> And where is birth,where death and all our fears
> That our temporal span is of some years?
> Where are the sun,the moon,the wind and tide,
> Those shining starry crowds which long abide?
> Where are the wits and thinkers new or old,
> Whence came the thought they did or now unfold?
> And where is sorrow,sickness,suffering,pain
> Or joy and cheer,love,beauty,loss or gain?
> This is a point one ne'er can too much stress:
> They all originate from consciousness!
>
> Our image of the world,our personal views
> And our experience come from that which lives,
> Which knows,imagines,calculates and thinks,
> And one observed fact with another links
> To build the extremely complex world of thought
> Which all exists, but where?We know it not.
>
> Perhaps you hardly will believe me, when
> I say what might shock nine men out of ten,
> That this immense display, this Cosmic show
> We carry all with us where'er we go!
> The external world and our internal thought
> Depend for their appearance on our mind
> What of them would survive if mind were not,
> Can any one imagine,guess or find?
> We are mistaken too when we concede
> That subtler forms of matter form the base,
> They too are products of the mind, indeed,
> As,save it, who can their existence trace?
> .....
> The talk about brain cells and genetic code
> And all the carefully made-up bookish load
> Is again an endless round of forms and names
> Which suits the learned, who love wordy games,
> For all whatever we know for sure or guess
> Must e'er come from spring of Consciousness.
>
> E'en after a thousand years whate'er we know,
> Whate'er we prove or still unproven show,
> Shall not out of a different seed-bed grow,
> But from the same mysterious spring-head flow.
> Whate'er the future holds,whate'er is past
> Nowhere save in the mould of mind is cast.
> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
>
> Whate'er exists or happens in the world,
> Whoe'er arrives out of it is hurled,
> Analyzed lastly will be traced to mind
> In league with something which we cannot find
> By which this vast creation comes into view,
> And hence all we experience, know and see
> Is but an image, not reality.
>
> Our modern scholars try to find without
> What is within, beyond a shade of doubt.
> The ponderous cosmos which they see before
> Their eyes, when fast asleep is there no more,
> And reappears, with change, when one awakes,
> Which Cosmic-mind in this duration makes.
>
> When one is dead it is not sould has died
> And left the physical world which he espied
> Before, but that his image in our mind
> Has ceased and save in thought we no more find,
> Because the world-creative Pranic link
> That made his shadow-body act and think,
> In his and our identical mental world,
> Is broken, and off the image has been hurled.
>
> We strut and dance upon the imaginary stage
> Of mind where lust, desire and passion rage,
> Clothed in the fancied dress of flesh and bone,
> Of phantom earth of water, air and stone,
> All but creations of a magic base
> Which, as the mind and matter it can trace,
> Is all: the actor,action and the stage,
> The rogue, the hero,the knight and his page,
> The rabble and the elite, the saint and fraud,
> This infinite creation and its Lord!
>
> (Riddle of Consciousness)
>
>
>
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