Till the consciousness of duality is completely dispelled, you cannot act in the infinite consciousness; you cannot even understand it, even as one standing in the sun does not know the coolness of the shade of a tree.
In the infinite consciousness, in every atom of it, universes come and go like particles of dust in a beam of sunlight that shines through a hole in the roof. These come and go like ripples on the ocean. Vasistha
Wir haben zum Ewigen keinen anderen Zugang als durch den Augenblick,
in dem wir leben. Herbert von Hoemer
Worauf konzentrieren wir uns? Auf Vergangenes, auf Künftiges? Oder auf den gegenwärtigen Moment? Es dürfte kein Zweifel bestehen, dass wir am meisten bei uns selbst sind, wenn wir aus der Gegenwart nicht abschweifen. Dann nehmen wir unseren Körper wahr, dann sind wir offen für sämtliche Geräusche, Gerüche und Eindrücke um uns herum. Dann fühlen wir. Dann sind wir erfüllt. Wir sind auch eingebettet. Wir sind – sofern wir dies annehmen können – geborgen im Hier und Jetzt, auf diesem Fleck unseres blauen Planeten im Universum. Inwiefern hat das etwas mit dem Ewigen zu tun? Nun, dieser Augenblick ist einer von unzählig vielen, die es seit Entstehen unserer Erde gab, die es auch künftig geben wird. Man kann diese Milliarden von Jahren und Erdumdrehungen eine Ewigkeit nennen.
Im Kontinuum der Menschheitsgeschichte haben wir als Individuum unseren eigenen Platz. Das darf uns mit Ehrfurcht für die ewige Lebenskette und zugleich mit Demut erfüllem. Während alles, woran wir denken, weiter nichts als Vorstellung bzw. Erinnerung ist, pulsiert das wahre Leben im jeweiligen Augenblick. Im Jetzt spüren wir es – und uns.
Quelle: @Imulse
by Carter Phipps (German translation see below)
As I was researching my book, Evolutionaries, I made an interesting observation: This is not a world built for generalists. It is a world built for specialists. What‘s valued intellectually is specialty knowledge“”expertise on the mechanics of eukaryotic cells or the chemistry of black holes or the life cycles of ant colonies. Even within individual disciplines, the drumbeat of specialization takes precedence over broader systems of knowledge. It‘s not enough to be a physicist; one is a particle physicist or a quantum loop theorist or a string theorist. It‘s not enough to be an historian; one is an expert on Renaissance social customs or South Asian political dynamics in the eighteenth century. Indeed, the degree of specialization in our collective knowledge base is both stunning in its depth and detail and frightening in its increasing fragmentation.
“Most educated people at the beginning of the twenty-first century consider themselves to be specialists.“ Writes Craig Eisendrath. “Yet what is needed for the task of understanding our culture‘s evolution, and of framing a new cultural paradigm, is the generalist‘s capacity to look at culture‘s many dimensions and to put together ideas from disparate sources.“
The people I have come to call “Evolutionaries“ are generalists for this very reason. Their critical insights are a result of thinking as a generalist must think“”with a passionate but broad curiosity that fans out across culture and sees connections, patterns, transitions, and trends where others only see discrete facts and details. An Evolutionary must be able to look at the movements of nature, culture, and cosmos as a whole, yet without denying the infinite detail that surrounds us.
No postures, contortions, exercises or routines – just relax, feel nice and easy with yourself. In that silence, sitting peacefully, all happens by itself, understanding arises of its own accord. When the moment is enough, there is no goal, no desire to be elsewhere, no turbulence.
Then energy has another dimension, the dimension of celebration in the moment.
How does one empty the mind? Not with effort, by watching. By becoming a witness. Watching passively, as one watches a river; not actively, as one waits for a lover. In this silence and ease, thoughts recede on their own, one’s mind becomes empty effortlessly.
Tilopa
Written by Bruce Sanguin (For German translation see below)
Theologian John Haught suggests that the best name for God, and one that is grounded in the scriptural narrative, is The Future (1).The idea of God inhabiting the future is harder to grasp than God inhabiting the past or the present. We have history books, our own personal history, and memory to assure us of the reality of the past. It‘s stuff that happened already. The present is not a problem for us either. It seems undeniable, if only by our apparent incapacity to dwell fully in it, as Eckhart Tolle and other gurus of the “now“ remind us. The present is this moment and we’re able to experience it by breathing deeply, stopping our chattering mind, and inhabiting our experience. It‘s stuff that is happening now.
But this moment is also always about to intersect with a future that’s always in the process of arriving. There, it just arrived again. But we have difficulty granting full, existential status to the future, because the future, by definition, doesn‘t exist yet. Unlike the past and present it has no content. Yet, it just arrived again. And in the moment of its arrival, it’s no longer the future. The future is always just beyond our grasp, yet always in the process of arriving.
In the Biblical book of Revelation, God is referred to as Alpha, the beginning, and Omega, the end. We’ve tended to privilege God as Alpha“Creator. But we haven‘t done much thinking about how God is present as Omega“”the end. Fundamentalist religion does think about God as Omega, but to these folks it means that God has fixed a predetermined end time when “He“ will bring history to an abrupt and violent end. This way of thinking renders the past and the present as little more than filler. It‘s just what happens while we‘re hanging around for the real action“”apocalyptic action“”to take place. It diminishes the role of history and our personal role in shaping the future.
