Song About a Great Yogi

I woke up yesterday morning
And I listened to a voice
The voice was still and loud
And it said “Relax and Rejoice!”

I loved this voice
I think it was me
And I said to this voice, “Hey Me!
Walk with me!
Talk with me!
Sing with me!
Hey Me!

Let’s be a family together!
Walk into the Light together!
Wake up every morning together!
And enjoy being who we really are together!

The Big Yogi came to play,
I met him years before
In the spirit of play
Of the Hippie days
Before I ever heard him roar.

And when he did he said
“I am YB.
I Am Here Now!
I am here to teach you to say
As the Yogis do
“Wow!”

Say it from the navel
Loud and clear
Like the Yogis do, Waho!

YB, It’s the magic of the Word
Just after the beginning
Just before the end
Remember John the Baptist?

The Master of Word
The Master of Love
Beyond the master hypnotist!

So now I am playing
Music with my Soul!
And I hear my Soul
Rock and Roll

It isn’t really a dead art.
It really isn’t boring.
When you sing and listenTo your voice,
You find your Spirit soaring.

Now,Let’s all lift up
Not a glass but a cup.
A cup of Yogi Tea!

And drink to the Lion
Who roared out a song
That was really a song of Glee!
Life to All !
Love to All!
Peace to All!
And more!
Listen again to your beautiful voice
And again, let your heart soar!


(And yes! I still think the voice was me)

What I Want/My Story about a Great Yogi

Right at the end of the meditation on “What I really want”
I found my self wanting to have music-music-music! Create it ! Write it! Play it! I sing it out! I share it!
I woke up yesterday morning
Tuned in and listened to my Divine Voice.
I said will You walk with me?
Talk with me?
Sing with me?
Can we form a family together,
And walk into the Light together?
Wake up together and be together,
And enjoy being who we really are together.
The Big Yogi came to play,
And that is what he did.
I want for you and me and all
To do that, you know why?
Before I ever met him,
I met his spirit of play
It was part of the 60’s hippie thing,
He wanted it like we did.
He opened a door inside himself,
And said here is a way to uplift the world
With a structure that looks good to the world,
That ends up saying Play! Play! Play!
So now I am playing
Music with my Soul!
And hear it rock and roll
And know that Guru Nanak Dev
Really knew how to get it on.
He was high on the Word
It isn’t really a dead art.
It really isn’t boring
When you sing and listen
To your voice,
You find your Spirit soaring.

Sat's Writing Workshop

Sat’s Writing Workshop

Write-write-write!

Hello Hello!

I don’t know why you say goodbye.

I say hello.

Anyhoo,

Hello!

My monkey mind chatters!

It says what matters,

Is to listen to me!

Do what I say

Not what I do

‘Cause all I do is chatter!

So hello again

When are you going to

Loosen the chains that bind you?

When you get a blow torch

That scorches the skin?

Or when you relax

Your rigid frame and

Slip out?

Anyway, the Sounds of Silence

Fill my skull

And I feel full.

The voices of angels

Pierce through the hard bones

In my head

And let in a needle-point

Thin shaft of light

That completes the moment

Like nothing else can!

Winning is just completing.

It’s not about showing

You’re better or best

It’s just

When you’re done with that

You move on to the rest.

Softness can penetrate

Into every pore

Melt away the hardness

Of tension

Without breaking anything

Appetite is a force

That moves a body forward

Into,

What?

Consumption?

Or just letting in

Lots of brand new things

The Myth of True Love

A woman came up to me after a meeting and gave me what seemed to me to be a very long hug. So long that I pulled away a little twice but her embrace seemed so strongly intended that I ended up staying there.
Why did I try to pull away? I’m not sure. I believe I’m just not accustomed to long hugs anymore. The only long hugs I knew anything about were very romantic long hugs full of energy that combined a deep longing for something way beyond the womb with a familiarity I felt for someone I could best describe as my best friend. At least those hugs are the ones I remember best.
This person though, the woman after the meeting, I hardly know, unless in the great-distant past. As I grow older, I sometimes wonder how far in the past great-distant has to be, and still be in this lifetime.
Anyway later, when I was going home, I wanted to tell that person how much I appreciated that hug.
It caught me by surprise!
I wanted to ask, “What did it mean?”
Was it true love calling to me?
And I didn’t recognize it? Wasn’t open to it?
Now I don’t usually use that pair of words: True Love.
I didn’t think I believed in True Love, except in the universal sense that our True nature is Love. Our Love is our Truth. Our Truth is Our Love.
I believe that.
What I didn’t think I believed was that there was an exclusive, specific True Love that exists for every one. You know, that myth that we are all searching for our one true love and the greatest joy in life is to find our One True Love and live happily ever after.
I didn’t think I believed in that myth. I still don’t know if I believe in it. But I do know now that I have that myth inside of me.
And that hug somehow made me realize that it’s there and has been there for who knows how long. I wonder how many of us have that myth in us and really still believe in it even though our experiences have hidden it and made it too hard to believe. Do I pretend to not believe it, and still inside all the time I am still looking for my one true love?

My myth of True Love is that there is a perfect person for me that is the perfect fit designed by God and that if I follow Divine Will perfectly I will find that perfect fit with someone and live happily ever after with that person with white and golden Light surrounding us and permeating within us together forever.

And I’m not kidding, now that I see the myth within me it feels so good to look at this vision (and it really is a feeling of great longing, great anticipation and great joy) that I want it to be true.
That is my myth of true love that I carry within me.
This experience has left me wondering about what other myths are floating around inside me that I’m still not very aware of. And about where they came from. I thought I knew. Mom. Dad. Movies. TV. etc.
Now I’m beginning to wonder if I brought them with me and created a whole reality just to bring them to consciousness and deal with them.

Do you have a myth of True Love inside of you? Do you think it is a myth? Maybe it’s just a part of being human and everyone has it. What do you think and feel about it? Also what do you intuit about it?

Talking to Babaji

Babaji, Time sees you.
You see time, and you see nothing.
Can you show me time?
Can you sing me a song
That makes me happy?
Can you sing me a song that
Makes me feel I am loved?
Can you sing me a song that
Opens my heart to
Endless possibilities?
Can you sing me a song that holds my worrisome
Nature in the light of Day?
Oh Babaji!
I cry without tears.
My cries are silent.
My heart breaks and
No one notices


So, now rings the gong
That separates my restless worriness
From the expansive space that holds
All that I Am.

And who is this,
That I Am?
Where did it come from,
And where does it Now Go?

The Wisdom of Beyond Time
Calls to me.
I try to hear.
The pain of being separated
Just keeps on reaching out to me,
And it makes me wonder.

Babaji seems to me to be saying,
"That, those words are your soul calling to you. Only one thing you need to do. Listen.
Listen tomorrow. Listen forever always.
Ask the man or the woman in front of you,
'Will you forgive me?'
And say 'Thank You!'
Without questioning why".

Thank You Babaji!

Paraphrasing Neville Goddard/Revision

Revision

At the end of the day, I review the day.

I don’t judge it.

I Simply Review it.

I look over the entire day,

All the episodes,

All the events,

All the conversations,

All the meetings,

As I clearly see it in my mind’s eye, I rewrite it.

I Rewrite it and make it conform to the ideal day I wish I had experienced.

I take scene after scene and rewrite it,

Revise it,

And having revised my day, then in my imagination I relive that day,

The revised day,

And I do it over and over in my imagination

Until this seeming imagined state begins to take on to me the tones of reality.

It seems that it’s real,

that I actually did experience it.

I find from experience that these revised days, if really lived, will change my tomorrows.

When I meet people tomorrow that today disappointed me, they will not tomorrow,

For in me I have changed the very nature of that being,

And having changed him, he bears witness tomorrow of the change that took place within me.

It is my duty
To take this garden
And really make it a garden
By daily using the pruning shears of revision.



It will bring about these objectives,


And bring about these changes.

Gloriously, it awakens in me

The Spirit of Jesus.

I find my self forgiving instead of justifying,

I realize that freedom and forgiveness are indissolubly linked.

By identifying the one I would bind and judge and condemn

With the Ideal I want to really realize,

I free myself.





I forgive

And I am forgiven.

The whole springs from me,

The one who beholds it.

The very spirit arouses itself within me

And I know that I am he that others spoke about

And thought lived 2000 years ago.


I am the one

That put away sin* by the sacrifice of self.

[* Sin is defined by Goddard as “missing the mark” He said that was the true meaning of the word in the original language.]

The self of man is the sum total

Of all that that man believes

And consents to as true.

That is the self that is sacrificed.



If a man is unemployed

I bring him before my mind’s eye

And I congratulate him on his good fortune because he is now gainfully employed.

I allow him to accept my congratulations,

Because I do not see a man unemployed,

I see him employed and he knows he is in my mind’s eye

For in that state I have pruned him from the unemployed state

and once more reshaped the branch


that grows in the garden of God.


Tomorrow people will see him

As they could not have seen him

Before the pruning that took place within me,

And he will be gainfully employed.

For all that vexes me,

I rewrite the script.

I don’t accept one thing in the world as final unless


it conforms to the ideal I want to realize in the world.



I look upon any vexation of this day

I don’t deny it,

I don’t duck it,

I look at it that I may prune it

And then reshape it.


In the conversations that have vexed me,

I rewrite the script.

What I see in the world,

It springs from my imagination.

That is where I go,

That is the workshop,

The Garden of God.



I have been selected

To really become the chief gardener in the garden of God.

The day is not slipping into the past,

It is always advancing into the future to confront you,

Either pruned or in some strange weed-like state.


“In heaven,

The only art of living

Is forgetting and forgiving.”

-William Blake



`
p.s.: This is called "paraphrasing Neville Goddard" because I was reading a lecture by N. G. and wanted to use what he was explaining. So I rewrote some of it the form of an affirmation that I could reread every night and use as a guide to rewriting my own day.

Another name I gave for it was "Practical Neville"

p.p.s.: Here is the whole lecture: http://realneville.com/txt/the_pruning_shears_of_revision.htm (I tried clicking it from this blog and it didn't work, so I guess you have to cut and paste it)