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Jerry Katz
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The wind carves shapes into the beach sand

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Nondual Highlights Issue #2606, Saturday, October 7, 2006, Editor: Mark

All our struggles are like the frustrated flutterings
of a caged bird - they are useless.

- Ramesh Balsekar

Stop struggling! Sit back, relax, like an old man
basking in the sun. The world will come and play at
your feet.
- dg, posted to DailyDharma


The true understanding comes from outside.
It is not of the space-time dimension. There-
fore, we can only call it Grace. Keeping your
being open and receptive to that other dimension
is a matter of Grace.

- Ramesh S. Balsekar, from A Net of Jewels, posted to AlongTheWay


in its form,
most pure,
is that which
buoyantly exists, regardless,
of circumstance,
or outcome...

In Love and Light...
ARIAL, posted to Mystic_Spirit

One Lasting Truth

That awesome Beauty gives us everything.
Whose fault is it
if we go away empty-handed?

Don't be disheartened
if that Charmer is ruthless -
Who ever saw Him acting otherwise?

His love is sugar enough
even when it gives no sugar.
His beauty is promise enough
even when it causes you
to break your promise.

Show me a house where His light
does not shine.
Show me a garden where His grace
does not bloom.

God was jealous of His own Face
and so He created the splendor of morning.
When the spirit awoke in that light, it said,
"To grasp God's beauty, you must become God."

The eye and the lamp are different lights
but when they come together
no one can tell them apart.

What is true?
What is false?

The only truth I know in this world
is my master, Shams-e Tabriz:
The light of his Sun
has never shone upon anything passing
without making it eternal.

- Rumi, Ghazal (Ode) 861, version by Jonathan Star, Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved, posted to Sunlight

Your true substance is concealed in falsehood,
like the taste of butter in buttermilk.
Your falsehood is this perishable body;
your truth is that exalted spirit.
For many years, this buttermilk of the body
is visible and manifest, while the butter, which is the spirit,
is perishing and ignored within it:
until God sends a prophet, a chosen servant,
a shaker of the buttermilk in the churn,
who skillfully shakes it, so that you might know
your true self which was hidden.

- Rumi, Mathnawi IV: 3030-3034, version by Camille and Kabir Helminski, Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance, posted to Sunlight

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