A non- comment :
From The Valley of Shadows….To The Soundless Top
“In order to become the knower of ALL SELF (9) thou hast first of self to be the knower.” To reach the knowledge of that self, thou hast to give up Self to Non-Self, Being to Non-Being, and then thou canst repose between the wings of the GREAT BIRD. Aye, sweet is rest between the wings of that which is not born, nor dies, but is the AUM (10) throughout eternal ages (11).
He who would hear the voice of Nâda (2), “the Soundless Sound,” and comprehend it, he has to learn the nature of Dhâranâ (3).
Having become indifferent to objects of perception, the pupil must seek out the râja of the senses the Thought-Producer, he who awakes illusion.
The Mind is the great Slayer of the Real.
Let the Disciple slay the Slayer.
When to himself his form appears unreal, as do on waking all the forms he sees in dreams;
When he has ceased to hear the many, he may discern the ONE — the inner sound which kills the outer.
Then only, not till then, shall he forsake the region of Asat, the false, to come unto the realm of Sat, the true.
Before the soul can see, the Harmony within must be attained, and fleshly eyes be rendered blind to all illusion.
Before the Soul can hear, the image (man) has to become as deaf to roarings as to whispers, to cries of bellowing elephants as to the silvery buzzing of the golden fire-fly.
Before the soul can comprehend and may remember, she must unto the Silent Speaker be united just as the form to which the clay is modelled, is first united with the potter’s mind.
For then the soul will hear, and will remember.
And then to the inner ear will speak —
Followed by a practical meditation exercise to find your vocation
Through Rosie, 6. April, 2016
It is time for all of you, inhabitants of earth, to realise that SILENCE is not a void where something is missing. Turn off and tune down the screeching and constant babble of your world. Pull the switch, shut our the noise, shut out the propaganda and close your eyes to find that the sudden “silence” is in fact a steady, distant but distinct hum which is pregnant with potential. It is a plateau where anything – YES ANYTHING YOU CREATE – could suddenly come into view on the horizon. It is a vast expanse where the first ray of the morning sun can strike like a knife upon the sand of the desert. It is a surface which can suddenly be struck by lightening, swept by hurricanes or engulfed by floods.
This is silence – the pregnant pause. This is the state into which you must now catapult yourselves more and more. This is the state with which you must become familiar – a space which will save you in the midst of insanity, a space where you can unfold when all else seems lost, a place where you can contemplate your own divinity in complete seclusion, unaffected by all else.