“Why?” The question which seeks answer to the root of conditioned causality. Intent behind purpose. Existentially asked by those ignorant to the nature of reality.
PDF Screenplays to:
Namo Gurus Wachowskis et. al.
Ideas realized
“Why?” The question which seeks answer to the root of conditioned causality. Intent behind purpose. Existentially asked by those ignorant to the nature of reality.
PDF Screenplays to:
Namo Gurus Wachowskis et. al.
To Son of Man The Lord the fruits of knowledge did forbid, For one who mistakes knowledge for wisdom the truth is hid. Knowledge is the cup that overflows, Wisdom the cup that emptiness holds. Claim not that thou are wise, Proclaim wisdom to be thy prize.
“... suppose that this great earth were to be an ocean upon which a single yoke were being tossed about by the wind and thus being moved from here to there. And suppose if under that ocean there were a blind turtle, do you think it would be easy for it to insert its head into that yoke when it rises to the surface only once every hundred years? In a similar fashion it is extremely hard to obtain the human state.” From Bodhicharyavatara
May I, for the sake of all beings, be ever mindful of intent to develop perfect renunciation for bodhicitta (awakening mind) of prajnaparamita (perfect wisdom).
om soham (x4)
In the ti-sarana (three refuges) of Buddha, Dhamma, and Shangha, I seek refuge…
As to take refuge in the three jewels is to give refuge, with intent to give refuge, I go…
I give reverence to Buddha Shakyamuni, the Perfectly Enlightened One, and his twelve principle deeds…
May I realize the causes and consequences of paticca-samuppāda (dependent origination)…
May I be ever conscious of ariya-sacca (the noble truths) [1-4] and the eightfold path [5-12]…
May I be diligent toward the paramitas (the six perfections) [1-6] for sake of all beings in the six realms of cyclic existence [7-12]…
May I develop determination toward attainment of the three principle aspects of the path for the sake of all beings and their bliss…
May I be ever mindful of altruistic intent and of true buddha nature. and meditate on the…
Namo Gurubhāya
Namo Buddhāya
Namo Dharmāya
Namo Sanghāya (x3)
May I take on defeat and offer victory.
om vajrasattva hum
om mani padme hum
What was one concealed, The mysteries of the cosmos, The aspiring mystikos To self would reveal.
Conscious that there is only one religious source, self, and that outward displays of one’s religious observances are but metaphor of inner observance, creed.
A fourth of the flock, By the three forgot, Near night’s opened door, Lifeless laid on the floor. Life’s brief dream, Fallen leaf in a stream, Mere memory evermore. Matter matters not, But carnage in rot, By wood-handled spade In earthen-clay laid. To higher realms I pray you soar.
May I realize,
That of any measurable quantity
I am empty,
And thus
May I realize,
The immeasurable qualities
Of inherent Buddha Nature.
In fractal, fractal intertwined. As to become, as so behind. With singular aim, a cosmic bow, Intent as above, so below. A spectrum of white, Harmonic cosmic blue, Illuminating clear light that is inner 'you.'
I have no identity But what you would have of me. A friend I would be, Or son, brother or father, To your mother, sister, daughter. But If you ask me, Nothing here to see. Guitar on the knee, Twangy variations of Bluesy E With a found blue A.T.C. Somewhere south of Tennessee. Where the Creek would roam, When they were free, Before losing their homes and way For the sake of foreign liberty.
Cross dimensions four I steered my faithful ship. With sea of time both aft and fore, O’er space my hull did skip, Toward sands of unknown distant shore. For ever east, where west is west Whilst on a circumferential plane. Chart tangential of the axial twain To plow through spatial trough and crest Of a boundless celestial ancestral plain, Where perhaps we shall meet again.
Having sailed over a green sea, Far from home and shore, Upon a small isle I set my keel, A place I’d never been before, To replenish diminished stores From natures bloom, Those rebels of doom, Fragrant flowers of spring. So praises I sing With lines of rhyme, Of ambrosias sweet in taste, ‘Fore the sickle of time Those posies reposed lays waste.