This mystic dancer has enslaved me!
I think only about it,
I talk only about it,
I long only for this union,
It tastes sweet, sounds sweet, feels sweet;
This ancient dancer is limitless,
It dances in the golden hall of gnosis,
It is ambrosia,
It’s Immortality,
It’s clarity,
It doesn’t judge,
It’s all goodness,
It’s bliss.
It’s love.
1. I have begun the third iteration of registering books in library.
2. Took some time to read Vinoba Bhaave’s commentary on Vedas.
3. Last few days have been interesting self discovery.
4. This mystic dance which fills every inch of space within and without is my sole object of study and search now. It’s musical and it’s sweet like nectar. It’s a conscious living presence. In fact: all living presence emanates from it.
5. The mystic dance is the player who does and undoes and yet it’s not a doer. It’s beyond human perception as far as its comprehension is concerned.
6. When it reveals itself as your innermost core of being: it takes away your ego structures. Your belief in your identity is turned upside down. Either thoughts or this takes your attention. The more it takes your attention: thoughts begin to reduce. This reveals itself as a vibrant field which eliminates all unwanted thoughts and ideas.
7. In that sense: even the most holy thoughts are thrown out of your system. Deleted. Forgotten. You can’t comprehend it until it happens. When it happens: you wonder whether it was really you who believed in those things.
8. Identities are make-believe ego structures. We assume certain roles and responsibilities and often make them our lives. When touch with pure unfettered consciousness is lost the reality asserts itself and it often seems like great suffering. Then you begin to drop those assumed roles and responsibilities: it’s interpreted as returning towards simplicity. It’s reality of pure being in action.
The supreme beauty
Has no form!
The supreme dance,
Has no movements,
The supreme music,
Has no notes!
Wonder of wonders!
It picks its subjects at random,
Makes them feel like it does,
And they sing songs mystified about,
Its nature and grace,
Since they know,
In a world which only gives one,
What’s deserved,
It’s only this grace which,
Gives insuperable beatitude and bliss,
It’s a strange thing,
This dancer is unfathomable!
Oh supreme dancer,
Where art thou feet?
Head, face and eyes?
All heads are your heads,
All faces your faces,
And all feet are your feet!
Oh supreme damsel,
What can I sing about your ineffable beauty supreme?
Words return,
From the threshold of your shrine,
With silent dazed faces,
The form of your presence,
Consumes all forms!
The music created by your tapping feet consumes all music!
Are you formless or with form?
Are you musical or without sound?
It is a mystery hitherto.
You’re the supreme taste,
And supreme grace–
Is there any doubt about it?
Am I a moth in the flame?
Or flame in a moth?
Or both?
The same,
A form and a name,
A game,
As the moth,
I am burning with bliss,
Can’t wait this eon of mothship to sink,
In the blink of cosmic eye,
Can’t be truly a moth,
Or even a semi awakened flame,
As the flame,
It’s merely a speck,
Now it was,
Now it’s not,
And yet :
To the dream which is neither moth,
Nor the flame,
A mysterious dame,
The song seems blissful.
It’s a great mystery.
It’s the only experience,
Which uses all senses together;
It’s seen as magnificent dance made of jewels,
It’s heard as divine melody consisting of variegated instruments,
It’s tasted as ambrosia,
A sublime honey,
And felt throughout the body as divine mingling with mundane,
Making it divine,
It also has the fragrance,
Akin to camphor,
Soothing bliss completely unique experience which has no parallel.
And it’s one entity continuous without breaks in generating experience for different senses,
It happens all at once,
And interpreted in parts.
A unique experience of fruition.
You’re ambrosia!
Seeing you ambrosia.
Inside me ambrosia,
And outside me ambrosia;
Your touch is bliss,
Your taste exquisite,
Feeling you ambrosia.
My existence these days,
Is almost magical,
And often,
When I hear no echoes,
I feel unfathomable beatitude,
I often wish this was my swan song,
I often long for it to be my last day here,
But alas, it’s not,
Not yet!
I have no doubts,
I would be the happiest person on my last day,
Since degree of happiness can’t be compared for subjects in either time or space,
You have to take my word.
I really don’t want to live here ever again.
I really don’t want to improve any lives known or unknown.
I had my full cup and I drank from it.
It’s enough. It’s final.
1. It’s like a friend you know and yet you don’t.
2. All the mystics and some poets have talked about it. They became one with it. They came from it. It was playing in them. It became itself when they truly found themselves.
3. They allude to its effects as footprints on sand. Everyone talks about the music and ambrosia. Vedas talk about taking one from darkness to light, from illusion to reality and death to immortality.
4. I see this bird. It’s a sign in my consciousness. When I began it was not a choice. It was a compulsion. I didn’t choose to be hungry for truth and thirsty for nectar. It was like running out of a house which was on fire.
5. All the fields of knowledge merely indicate limitations of human mind which need to be transcended. The more we explore humbler we become.
6. It soon becomes apparent even to most developed of minds that our lives and searches are limited. Learning various arts and becoming adept at technologies: just what is available at present: means countless lifetimes.
7. Certainly: amassing knowledge is not way to lasting bliss and peace.
8. Becoming knowledge is.
9. By coming in contact with it. You start becoming it. As moths burn when attracted by light: your personality burns completely.
10. Since source of all has all: all advertisement for moth like personalities are illusions.
11. None of your desires get fulfilled. They either disappear or lose value or can be seen as easily fulfilled in a new dimension.
12. If a desire isn’t satisfied immediately: it’s not the same desire when it’s satisfied. If you understand this clearly : you know that only in a state of complete harmony : desires which spontaneously get satisfied arise.
13. Every dream of limitations wonders about perfection. It’s akin to our dreams in a way. A play. Until it dissolves completely: you can’t say what it was and why.
14. It is fire. It’s water. It’s ether. It’s earth and sound. It chooses mystics to meditate on any one aspects of it. It’s love. It’s compassion. It’s infinite beauty and bliss.
15. Boredom and ennui are parts of a mechanism which perpetrates suffering. It’s a blinding mechanism. Every situation is new. It’s almost impossible for a human being to retain all details of every environment. Therefore even when an event takes place in the same setting there’s something new about it. Being unable to attend to this newness is because of the dullness of mind.
16. It has countless eyes. It takes away dullness. It is so addictive that everything else seems like hell in comparison.
17. Every moment the home is coming closer. Mystery is infinite. It’s an ever increasing love, wonder and awe.
18. When some immortals gather in the hall of gnosis: they have no worries, nothing to do, no goals, an eternity.
19. Science, reason and intellect are shaped by it. Can’t comprehend it. Can’t use it. Can’t predict it.
20. Singing songs to praise it is to focus your mind on it. You can’t analyze it. All you can do is to appreciate how good it tastes. Feels. How engrossing, vast and ceaseless it’s.
21. Though revealed in works of nature. It transcends nature and its root cause. Many patterns and movements in artificial and natural intelligence seem to resemble it.
22. All names are its names. Everytime you name it, it’s naming itself via you. It’s not to suggest that there exists something other than itself.
23. It cheats with itself by creating its shadows with which it plays. It’s not however alone in the sense humans get. Humans feel lonely because of idea of multiplicity. It’s neither one nor many. The ancient idea of it was one so desired to be many is a myth.
24. It doesn’t know itself. It has no faculties. Or maybe it does. In this matter I can’t speak on its behalf. Knowing suggests limitation.
Beautiful birds are chirping sweet,
They were singing its praises,
I was saved by it,
From becoming someone who is praised and then not praised,
I was saved from ego deaths,
All its praises are my praises,
I sing along with others.
1. No people.
2. Noise.
3. Hunger, thirst or disease or fatigue.
4. No business or calls.
5. No distractions or thoughts or
6. Pitfalls.
7. hinder me or obstruct my vision.
8. This rendezvous is perfect.
9. I feel accomplished.
It dances between
The void and being
The expanse of void
Is a place of supreme rest
Being is always striated with
Crests and valleys.
Dancing light of grace 