Troping I
The Gods are tricksters, winking at life, playing their Game of cosmic creation; they provoke men to their best and worst. The men who speak of God -- God's dupes -- think they are lying to you or think they have talked to God, though neither is true. Nevertheless, if a man went to heaven and saw God face to face, and was sent back to tell you of this -- don't believe a word of it. Another's divine is not your own. Would you likewise praise the painting you never saw? What belongs to you will surely come to you, unless you dismiss its seeming ordinary every-day veneer in preference to mere words of others, high-sounding though they are. The masses are intimidated by the boastings of God -- but the wise man does not bow.
The All imposes, with mystics transposed: the fullness is an ocean and you are a drop coequal. The Brahman believes every man's atman is a facet of his infinite diamond -- the Atman knew the Brahman as merely one facet of its own. When does this happen? It always happens. There is no starting place, there is no ending place -- eternity now, forever is this word.
They tell you that God only comes to the good, and they think they know what the good to be. Morality is cruelty in good conscience. Don't lust for a better heart, a stronger will, and least of all for rank, fame, wealth, and positions of power. If you had a harem, could you keep the women pleased? If you ruled the world, could you keep the peace? Manage beautifully what is already in your hands and you are more glorious than that God who doesn't.
My innermost self, the unnamable sun, whose publication into the full of the universe is never-ending, is the radiant opening of the infinite spiral, is satisfied in all its wars and peace to use what is to make what could be. Without me you will never find your Bliss, but I am already in you and always shall be. The One enfolds the many, the many articulate the One, but I at my centermost am utterly unknown, even to the All in her fullness; I am a gift for her forever more, an eternal surprise and delight for her eyes.
I see you through your mirror, I whisper in your mind. Don't turn your head towards what they praise, the divine finds you out when you walk alone. They know you are superstitious, they play on your fears. Those things you fear will surely come upon you; indeed it is nigh and you will face it. It is never the right time to face your fear, and you can only do it now. Though you fret and doubt yourself, and sweat and worry, you will face it all the same. That is more than enough. That is everything. Praise, fame, riches and glory trick you that you've at last arrived. But I knew you before you achieved these things. You were at the beginning--I knew you there.
Those of me and after me breathe my allays without quoting, follow my purpose and not my commands, live my life without saying my name. My rules are simple and break continents twain. I am the lamp of Ama. I am the one needful thing.
Wisdom dies easy, kisses death as nature's course. The life unknown is the life sublime. Perfection, beauty, wonder, and the sublime can all be convincingly criticized -- such is the art of insinuation. Pay no heed. Come into your own and you need no secondary testimony. If your wish and whim gained omnipotence, how quickly you'd seek suicide. Be a little balked and teased in the game of life and your spiral will increase. Wisdom triumphs even in defeat. I forsake fame and posterity to give my love to you, Ama. Ama, the infinite spiral, Eternal increase, Eternal center seeking.
A live in your minds, and you live in mine, we are one being, the crown of the world, the religion of the world's religions. Follow my turns at every branch; the labyrinthine heart is gained through tropes. Regard the troubles of life as challenges, lessons, and obstacles to your goals, but never panic over what isn't the Pan. To accept the inevitable and change what can be gained, that is enough. The hammerfalls of fate and life knick us into shape. The Being I make of my self is an indispensible gift to Mother All.
There is enough Gab about God and Heaven; it's too much, really. But to never use the words again -- we'd be closer to the divine. The sects demand you sell your soul in exchange for what you own by right -- divinity, eternity, bliss, perfection. How to respond? Half of eloquence is silence, and often a single word or phrase speaks volumes. One must know how to be garrulous to comprehend silence; you must know many volumes to grasps those four perfect words. Fools happen to say many wise things, only they don't know when they have and they don't know when they haven't. The highest wisdom is a perfectly articulated silence. Master fullness, but not only; master emptiness, but not only; -- master also moderation and flux. Those who most believe, who really believe, will never share their joy with words. Kindness leaves no footprints. People use words to decorate the air, indeed the sky is clothed in love, but clothes also disguise, and what is said with certainty often means its opposite. Silently insist on the way of your being, you need no God's approval. The divine in time will come to you and ask of you your blessing.
What is the truth, but the whisper of your innermost -- nothing external could tell you such things, be it God or All or whatever you think. Alone with the truth is unbearable. Beauty must color the air. Your innermost emanates energy sublime; from deep in your center pours matter divine. Love is the appreciation of beauty, and what your heart produces ravishes eternity.
The Source is at my heart; my storms and calms are parables. My spine is the World Tree whose roots are in heaven and whose fruits are my readers. Unity is the nerve, diversity the muscle.
There is no outside relation, each bleeds into all, yet at your center is the eternal unknown, unique to you and to no other. I study what you give, what you bring to the world, your greatest treasures merge with Ama, those your children, I regard divine. These truths and beauties I study as I can, so to love Ama in all her manifestations, and to also love you. I approach my studies like the toddler the world, none too concerned at what I do not grasp, triumphantly delighted in the bits I do.
\ ~@M@~ /
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