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Ramana Maharsh's Death experience and Yoga Nidra
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Nonduality Highlights: Issue #3346, Sunday, November 9, 2008, Editor: Mark
This is an invitation to sit in wonderment, or to sit in awe, in cluelessness, in being willing to take every certainty that the mind holds and let it be turned into a wondering... as though this were your first moment on Earth, innocent of all the mind's cleverness and assumptions... just simple being. And every day, we treat being as beside the point. Here, this being is the point! It's not skipped over on our way somewhere... just fully embraced and explored. What is it like to simply be?
Let everything be just as it is... just resting unprotected and simple, innocent, offered to the moment... When we enter the moment wide awake, we enter the moment openly, leaving all that's known behind. We enter the radical new. We enter what's alive, what's unborn. We open ourselves to being informed and moved by something beyond the mind.
With your eyes closed, it's rather tricky to try to find the boundary between body and space. There's just this field of awareness and these dancing sensations - the inner and the outer environment coming together in one big dance of sensation... all environment... what's inside-what's outside - just little sensation blips on this wide screen of awareness. So let yourself forget who you think you are... what you think you are... all that you've figured out... to just enter the newness of this moment, the freshness of sitting here not knowing, just exploring not figuring out, just feeling, sensing, resting, imagining yourself to be this wide screen of awareness. Let yourself rest as space... as a night sky... as an ocean...
If you let everything in the mind be up for re-evaluation, where would you be? What would you be.. Just here, lost in God. No past.. no future, just opening and opening in this clueless depth of now.
All of the things that drove us from here come calling when we simply dare to be here. Just like Jesus in the desert or Buddha under the tree, waiting out the temptations and the illusions if we just dare to be. It can take a while for the whole body to get the message that everything's welcome, that all burdens can be laid down. All the tiny identifications and the not-enoughs can come dancing in this lit space. And we just let them dance. No matter what sensations in the body come with them, they are not real. They are what drive us to keep doing, to get somewhere. Drive us towards our deathbeds in this wild bunch of doing called a life.
Wherever the friction is for you between the song of your heart and the fear of your conditioning, that's where God is growing through you.
No amount of strategized doing can improve on how the Holy wants to move us. No amount of fighting what is actually makes anything better.
When deliciousness is here, when we know ourselves as nothing, as resting, why go anywhere else? It's done. Whether it starts up again or it doesn't is another question, but who cares? Don't fall for the bait of the mind. Give your whole being to NOW.
We see the wind blowing the trees sideways, and do we say "You jerk. Stop blowing so hard?" It's really the same as attributing anything to or evaluating the fictitious one based on how the flow of life is going. Some people take identification to that level--they look out and the sky is cloudy, and they say, "See? Nothing ever goes right. I'm a shit." What else can I personally attribute to this one that doesn't exist? When we get no ownership,, when we get that we have no control, that we can't make it go faster or better because we actually aren't, Ah! That's like the biggest vacation. Just hang the whole thing on a hook and go about riding the flow, you know? Like, why not?
- Jeannie Zandi, from her monthly newsletter, which you can elect to recieve by emailing [email protected]
Storms, inevitably arising
The ocean seems such a long way off,
high in the mountain drainage.
Boulders sit for centuries
beside the stream,
unmoved by its perfect song.
So many days and nights,
circles spun 'round the brilliant sun,
seasons of change and return,
change and return.
Yet even massive rocks
so sure and solidly standing,
fall before the irresistible movement
of storms inevitably arising.
They spill into the flow,
they hear the water's song - finally!
and are drowned in it.
Now they are only movement,
sometimes almost imperceptible
yet irrevocably drawn -
bumping against one another,
dissolving in the current.
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