The Seer

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We fail to understand God’s purpose because we (are conditioned to) see with physical eyes only and not with our spiritual eyes.

We see what we want for ourselves (a better dream experience), not what God wants for us (to awaken as the dreamer to the dream).

So now (in awakening) we give our attention not only to what is seen, but to what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal

St Paul, sharing the gnosis (the knowing) with the followiers of Jesus’ teaching at Corinth, Greece. (2 Cor. 4:18).

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Years ago, I discovered a new way to look at the world — a new way to think, a new position from which I could view the universe — and that position let me see beauty and wonders that were not apparent to the old way, to the old position, to the Old Think.

Well now, this new way to think, this way to view the world seems wonderful and marvelous to me. At the time it happened I was absolutely certain it was virgin and pristine and that it never before had been seen by anyone. I’ve since learned that this experience is awaiting everyone and will for each come as it did with me, with the absolute conviction that it’s unique and new ….

God is light. Light is a beautiful synonym for what God is. You may have heard of Lucifer — Lucifer, the devil … the word Lucifer means the bearer of light, the one who carries light. And, according to the Bible myth, that Lucifer was thrown out of heaven, damned to an eternal darkness.

Lucifer is the idea that we are the ‘bearers’ of light. Lucifer is the idea that we are the ‘custodians’ of this awareness right here, right now. Never was there a bearer of life, never a bearer of light.

We are life, we are light and we let go the Lucifer, the deceitful nature of us that would say, “This is my life to do with as I please; this is my destiny to live as I choose.” We let all that foolishness go — just to be light, to be life that is the Godhead shining.

From a transcribed talk (Woodsong Series #7) given by William Samuel at his home — Woodsong, in Alabama, USA, in April, 1980

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We rarely make book recommendations in fiction, but you might find this odd new book from Sentient Publications of interest: God Is An Atheist: a novella for those who have run out of time.

The author, N. Nosirrah is a writer and philosopher who asks his readers to question their existence, God’s existence, and in particular, Nosirrah’s existence. He has said that those who understand his writings have no need to meet him, those who do not have no reason to meet him, and those who need to meet him have no need to read his writings.

A profoundly funny romp through religion, spirituality, and the contemporary clash of cultures of belief, with special attention to the human obsession with knowing what can’t be known. Nosirrah provokes just about everyone as he describes a world where God is on the run from Islamic extremists, the Pope announces he shares a bed with Richard Dawkins, and Buddha’s son disappoints by getting enlightened instead of becoming a doctor.

To say this novella is strange might give the reader a way to relate to it, but in fact, nothing will shift the burden away from the reader. In its pages, the world is bent around the reader’s mind until either the mind itself begins to bend, or indeed, breaks. A book without plot, characters, structure, or obvious purpose, this is an endless descent into the netherworlds of a dystopian mind. If a thousand monkeys typing endlessly would eventually produce all great works of literature, then God Is an Atheist (ISBN 978-1-59181-072-8) is their first draft.

Click on the link to see an amusing YouTube book trailer for God Is an Atheist. (Not available from Clearsight)

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This cannot be understood. It can only be recognised. Until recognition, there can be a trying to understand or grasping at the words, which are pointing to what is beyond words. Recognition cannot be forced and no particular circumstances are necessary. But there can be a tiring of trying to understand that which can never be understood. Sometimes it can take years before trying to understand is exhausted. Sometimes this only needs to be heard once or sometimes there is recognition ‘out of the blue’ with no apparent connection to anything in the story.

In recognition there is never any connection to anything that has come before this. In recognition, there is no story of past or future. There is no time. Any apparent story is recognised as simply a story. Nothing causes recognition because any apparent cause is simply a story. Recognition is the end of the belief in the story. Recognition is a leap beyond concepts. Beyond belief. Beyond what has always been assumed. It is a leap into the unknown. It is a leap into what has always been known but simply overlooked. I can recognise what is being pointed to in these words, because I am that. This is what I am, beyond any story of ‘me’. This is how I know that which is pointing, and that that is pointing to what l am.

From I am Life Itself by Unmani Liza Hyde????????

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When I walked into the coffee shop,
I saw God sitting at a small table
Sipping espresso and reading a newspaper.
She was about seventy years old.

I couldn’t believe it.
No one else seemed to realize that God was in the room,
Closer than four tables away,
Closer than life itself.

I took a deep breath,
And watched God take another sip of coffee.
I wanted to stand up and shout in a loud voice,
“Listen, people; this is a very special coffee shop!
This is where God chooses to drink coffee
And read the newspaper.
This place is sacred.”
But I remained silent.
No need to scare everybody.

Then, I looked at the sunlight coming through the front window,
And the way it lit up dust motes in the air—
Millions and millions of individual particles
Dancing.

From behind the counter came the tinkling sounds
Of silverware being dumped into a sink.
Small groups of people talked quietly at their tables,
And a cash register rang up a sale.

I suspected that this was the only morning in the history of all time
That it was going to happen just like this.
I thought to myself,
“It’s a lucky thing I came here this morning.”

After a while, I got up my courage and walked over to God’s table.
I said, “Hi, what’s your name?”
God said, “Jane Smith.”
I said, “Really?”
She said, “No, not really.”
We both smiled,
And then I walked out of the coffee shop and into the street.

Some people go to church to find God,
And you can find her there if you know how to look.
But you can also find her at the coffee shop.

by Bob Harwood

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This entertaining and thought-provoking online video animation is well worth watching. Dr Q. points to that other dimension that is always there to be noticed, discovered and enjoyed. Just Click Here

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I breathe the breath of the morning, I am one with the one World-Soul.
I live my own life no longer, but the life of the living Whole.
I am more than self: I am selfless: I am more than self: I am I,
I have found the springs of my being in the flush of the eastern sky,
I — the true self, the spirit, the self that is born of death –
I have found the flame of my being in the morn’s ambrosial breath.

I lose my life for a season: I lose it beyond recall
But I find it renewed, rekindled, in the life of the One, the All.
I look not forward or backward: the abysses of time are nought.
From pole to pole of the Heavens I pass in a flash of thought.
I clasp the world to my bosom: I feel its pulse in my breast, –
The pulse of measureless motion, the pulse of fathomless rest.

Is it motion or rest that thrills me? Is it lightning or moonlit peace?
Am I freer than waves of ether or prisoned beyond release?
I know not; but through my spirit, within me, around, above,
The world-wide river is streaming, the river of life and love.
Silent, serene, eternal, passionless, perfect, pure ; –
I may not measure its windings, but I know that its aim is sure.

In its purity seethes all passion in its silence resounds all song:
Its strength is builded of weakness: its right is woven of wrong.
I am borne afar on its bosom ; yet its source and its goal are mine.
From the sacred springs of creation to the ocean of love Divine.
I have ceased to think or to reason: there is nothing to ponder or prove:
I hope, I believe no longer: I am lost in a dream of love.”

by Edmond Holmes

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Pure, as the mountain stream after a fall of April snow
Conscious as he who wakens from deepest sleep, aglow
Aware as the cat who senses all before she prepares to go
Blissful as a babe in arms fondled like an endearing doe
Alone, I AM

Self-existent
Here in the Heart from where I AM is found
Now, in the Heart from where I AM is ground.
I am space for this beautiful place to happen in, and
My Earth is a grain of sand on Being’s strand
Whatever’s on the screen, whatever wave the spectral band,
Goodly Air, stormy Sea or merely mediocre Land
All is in me, this I truly recognise and understand.

I am not a tortured victim in a tormented world
A twin-holed meat ball, hairily curled,
I am no thing, no name, no body, no word,
I am single-eyed and feeling very headless
There’s no thing on theses shoulders, mind’s no longer restless
Where I’m seeing from is a boundless window, frameless.

By Alan Jacobs

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Planets, solar systems and nebulae appear and disappear; energy is transformed into matter and matter is transformed into energy, but there is something which does not appear and disappear but is eternal and that is the great cosmic ocean of Consciousness, from and into which come all forms of energy. This is what modern science tells us, confirming the intuitive insight of the mystic.

Ramesh Balsekar

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The true function of problems is to direct you to their solution at the Centre. Having some problems is very helpful.

Having quite severe problems brings me back to the place where there are no problems. Because Who I really, really, am is problem-free. I’m living from the problem-free area out into the world.

Part of the price of involvement in the world is to have feelings, some of which are agreeable, some of which are disagreeable, some of which are tragic.

I can’t exist, can’t express at all without this dualism: the dualism of good and evil, beauty and ugliness, black and white, etc, which is the inescapable condition of expressing into the world from the place that is free of those dualities.

From: Open to the Sourcemebeli, by Douglas E. Harding. Edited by Richard Lang.