Sunday, May 23, 2010

The easiest puzzle

No questions need answered.  No experience needs to come.  No realization is required.

Reality is one, one happening, one potentiality, one IS-ness.

The only way to grasp it is to not grasp.  The only way to find it is to be it.

The only way to see it is to be the seeing.  But you cannot DO that because you already ARE that.

Only the imagination about what you are falls away.

Without imagination reality has no walls, no borders, no separation.  Without imagination reality has no individuals, no lives, no deaths.

Without imagination reality has no subject nor object, although even the descriptions, in which subject and object are put, are not other than reality.

It's like the eye trying to see the eye or the finger trying to touch itself.  It is a puzzle which only has one piece.

It is so close it cannot be apprehended.  It is not hidden but the most obvious thing you've ever known.

Stop - you're looking in the wrong place.  Any place is the wrong place.  Any thing is the wrong thing.

Look where no one can possibly look and you will find what never needed finding.


su said...

ah and how our imaginations were encouraged in childhood.
thanks randall, once again the hammer hits out.

mellowg said...

Randall - it's very lovely poetry.

But highly impractical if someone's objective is to be empty of false notions of the self and separation.

I myself don't like poetry very much - never did. But I do appreciate it's beauty - it's function in our human lives.

If people like you were more direct about the nature of reality, maybe more people get shaken out of their perma-casts and look at themselves.

But hey - how can I criticize you for writing a poem? I just don't like it when other seekers think it's a practical pointer. It's not. It's a poem - read it, smile or weep or not, then move on to more practical advice about your self-nature.

Randall Friend said...


Are you certain it's only poetry?

Is not poetry using words to express something inexpressible?

When you look where no one can possibly look - don't overlook this so quickly.

The fragrance of liberation isn't coming in new - it is always perceived yet it's taken to be the same ordinary garbage of "my life".

See the real in the unreal and there is nothing left to do.

love to you

mellowg said...

My friend Randall,

Some poetry tries to express the inexpressible and other poetry doesn't. Stop limiting the meaning of words to how your mind-body organism defines them. Poetry can express the expressible: such as the misery of apparent separation. Is not an emotion, a thought, expressible? Inasmuch as it appears in consciousness it can be expressed.

You, my friend, are trying to express the inexpressible, a much more absurd endeavor, and one that is certainly going to further confuse the already confused (I'm referring to the majority of people that read this site).

The fragrance of liberation is just another experiencing that is happening. It too will end like all the other "fragrances" in your life. Do not be lulled by fancy words tempting you towards the wafting aroma of some experience called liberation...

Leave the inexpressible be. It's very nature opposes any ideation. Stop trying to mangle it into something that you express.

Just my two cents.

Randall Friend said...


Every way of expressing it is bullshit, including every word of this blog - when you see your own bullshit as bullshit then we'll be on the same page.


Josef said...

Dear Mellowg,

you don´t have the right to regulate the content of Randalls blog. He makes no commercial, doesn´t clame a fee and everything is for free.

And he helped me a lot. When I came over his blog by accident, it opend my eyes for the first time.

You are right. Somehow is every word bullshit. But if I wouldn´t have read the writings from Randall, I still would be caught up fully in the dream.

I don´t want to criticize your words. My english is to bad for that. And my words are the same bullshit as your words.

But nobody squeezes you to read this words.

Warm regards