top of page

The ladder of Ascent is the Soul Itself

  • Writer: davidsmith208
    davidsmith208
  • Oct 25, 2019
  • 2 min read

The ladder of Ascent is the Soul Itself Poem: If you over ride your thoughts with just Simran you can startup in a higher place. If you just breathe and recite it is like you are on a retreat. If you turn yourself into a statue then you can sell yourself as a guru. You could start a meditation class in Manhattan at 3am. In the early mornings on Sunday the city has much less Sin. You can awaken to a beautiful hymn. At 9am We can end the session with a talk and go for a walk in the park. Whether you are Aladdin of just a common thief you can open up the treasure. You can setup a pipeline just ending in your brain. You can get a Doctorate in just Not Thinking. You don’t have to rely on any particular religion you can just wait for a new one. You could think about the path like the Pope - like St Gregory - using the ladder of ascent - wherein the ladder is the soul itself. It you just take your “naked blind awareness” up to the inner door you can see the light of God sort of like seeing the light of the Sun through a cloud or in this case through the cloud of unknowing. All that you know is useless when you are on the go. Having a “naked blind awareness” probably just means being present. Some people would think I teach a doctrine of escapism - exactly. It could be the same as Buddha just ask him. A Poem by David Smith NYC October 25, 2019 #stgregory #cloudofunknowing #privycounselling 


 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Exercise portfolio optimization

Your notes point toward something deeper than just a schedule. They describe a system that balances adaptation, skill retention, recovery, and variety. There are several ideas you could add. 1. The Th

 
 
 
Every man over 40 is a scoundrel

Yes. The quote is genuinely by George Bernard Shaw, although it was intended as one of his provocative aphorisms rather than as a sober philosophical statement. The exact wording is: “Every man over f

 
 
 
Poem for my birthday

Whitman 1 Rise O days from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer sweep, Long for my soul hungering gymnastic I devour'd what the earth gave me, Long I roam'd the woods of the north, long I

 
 
 

Comments


© 2023 by Nick Martinez. Proudly created with Wix.com

© Copyright
bottom of page