The Body Electric

Whatever one's background, from wherever one takes a point of view, it can be readily determined that our bodies tend to become our House of Worship. We live, eat and sleep the entirety of our existence within this abode and an enormous amount of time comes to be devoted in the maintenance and care of this object of desire which we could never do without. Oh, the tragedy of it all!

This fixated upon the body is quite obviously based upon our outlook of long standing that we are, indeed, the body. We become the object of our desire and so live a full and rich life devoted to that which concerns and considers the body and little else. As our unlimitedness becomes time constrained we too become bound and gagged expressing only that which correlates with the now quite common and established beliefs. Feeding upon each other, our dreams become self-sustaining and ever lasting. Oh, the folly!

Breaking the ties that bind comes to mean that which binds and restricts the body in our environment. In so freeing our object of supplication our beliefs take root and sprout endless none-sense and chatter, filling our hearts and minds with inconsequential yet momentous entertainment which has taken a turn for the worse. Where has the Golden Rule gone and how is it that the Golden Path has so easily vanished without being noticed? Notification is but due process. With my good eye I shall rout out what little is left of perception and be done with it!

Gazing into the Mirror of Life we see only that which we want to see, taking what we create as a blessing from above in innocent ignorance of our own hand in the matter. We are but the victim of our own demise and in walking the Earth as Men our bodily form endures the superiority of our form, taking root and stock in all that we proclaim from our Throne of Despair. Space and beingness, taking on the characteristics of enormity, belie the fact that neither are a true measure of one's worth, one's purpose nor one's self. In the field of Man giants are born and yet even these bodies lack in their measure when it comes to the spiritual realm. Death is neither an ending nor a beginning. Wisdom is neither created nor destroyed.

Pulling the curtain of Life up and over our Nature we come to take great pleasure in pleasure and great sorrow in sorrow. Being born again is but another rung in the endless cycle of parting the seas to attainment. Seeking, we come to take little notice that our vehicle of access is flawed and so our attainment comes to be like-wise colored. There is no such thing as perception as one simply cannot take notice of that which notices. Despite the tricks and traps of beingness and existence our Nature remains unmoved and yet in this World of Consequence we create the illusion of beingness in order to take advantage of the fact that in the spirit of play, we play. Oh, the Mind of Man and it's field of play!

Striving, we take root.

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