My Christmas Present

Poem:

My Christmas present to myself is to sit cross-legged and look into outer space. And listen to the hum of the music of the spheres as the planets go round me. The gains from practice are cumulative that is why I have a big head. If you sat still in silent contemplation for a long time what would happen? A working pathway for energy up your back is a whole lot better than cable TV. Cable TV is like throwing money away. If you have a competent Guru you can practice the voluntary NDE instead. In the 19th century when they ask you “how are you?” they really meant “how is it you are still alive” - an early death was much more common. If you lasted to fifty you were lucky. Some people have a mystical experience and think it is glorious. I think it should be more consistent. It should be constantly repeated. It is like replacing your lower body with something ethereal. It is annoying that you have to have a lot of purity because I am still attracted to Sin. Though Master Darshan says I should blow over it like a Zephyr. I could be relying on Dhikr. My poems are my letter to the world which are rarely read except in Turkey and Australia. It must be the time difference. I am published at a time when there are a billion others, it is almost like I wasn’t. My Master either writes them or listens by definition. When I do all-the-time Simran, I can start meditation like it was already the third hour. All-the-time Simran for those of you frightened by it is not really all the time: I estimate in practice it comes in at about 1/4 of the day about six hours about the same as people who look at their iphone. You just repick it up after each activity. The same way people justify social media. Once I was sitting in meditation with my mind wondering all over with worldly thoughts when they were rudely interrupted by Simran, that’s what happens with the habit of all-the-time Simran. DS Poem December 25, 2018

How hard to forgo desire after intimate pleasure! Better pass over this vale of thorns like a zephyr. (40:1) Sant Darshan Singh Page 11 Love’s Last Madness by Barry Lerner