Follow by Email

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

William Samuel

Light dawns on wings of angels. This morning the angels 

sing of "Not Guilty" as the mysteries of alcoholism are 


Childish is the delineation of childlike and the alcoholic 

is  the childish one who never grew up. He didn't want to 

be an adult, he did not want to take on the responsibilities 

of the adult because his heart knows that is not his role. 

He is the Child and he wants to be the Child who doesn't 

have a care in the world. He drinks to kill the pain of 

separation from his Child Heart. The booze gives him a 

false sense of freedom as is observable by his 

irresponsible behavior. The alcohol-induced sense of 

freedom is like the tree's shadow that struggles and 

strives daily for its survival. It is the shadow that leads to 

the tree. The booze sedates him and for some time he 

feels even nearer to this Child Heart but he's afraid of 

losing it because, since what he feels is artificial, it will he keeps on drinking to try to hold on to but 

only drinks himself into oblivion with the excesses.

Alcoholism is rooted in the tree of good and evil and is 

ladden with the pairs of opposites. The husband and wife 

in this drama are the two that are one, there is a 

perpetrator and a victim and one cannot operate without 

the other. How can there be a perpetrator without a victim 

or a victim without a perpetrator, yet each one is 

responsible for his own drama. One can hide under the 

guise of victim. It gets him/her a lot of sympathy and 

attention, he/she can hold center stage...s/he is so 

innocent and his/her life would be just so wonderful if 

only s/he would  quit drinking and make him/her feel 

good...Typically, the victim of the alcoholic's stubborn 

attitude wants so desperately to hang on to his victim 

role...s/he is not comfortable standing on his/her own two 

feet and taking charge and responsibility for his/her own 

life. It's an easy way out to blame his/her partner...saves 

him/her from  having to look at his/her own bucket of 

crap, clever way to be deceitful, to have his cake and eat 

it too. 

Each is a master at distortion and can turn the clearest 

picture into a carricature (which it is in the first place!) It 

is childish making childlike plain.

In an 'enlightened' world, the parent's role is to KNOW 

the Child and to love the Child but if that parent does not 

know his/her own Heart then s/he cannot be a parent 

because s/he is looking 'out there', in the world of many 

to beloved...not to love but to BE loved. If the parent 

doesn't know s/he IS already IT then the parent doesn't 

have it and the child doesn't have it and everyone is 

looking to everyone else for love...She looks to the child 

and the child looks to her...where the heck is it going to 

come from? The alcoholic is the child who didn't grow up 

because, his parents have not discovered their own child 

heart. The circle continues until one is brave enough to 

go through the adult stage because that is where he will 

find that he not only knows but he will know that he 

knows his own Heart,his Real Identity, the One and Only 

Love that Is. This is the process and we are the process. It 

is much less painful to go through the pain of adulthood, 

of opening the heart and finding the child than to live in 

an endless circle of lies.

I don't see any way around it, do you?

Peace comes when the visible world reconciles the pairs 

of opposites, when we see them as the two that are one. 

And finally, the tangible world is the means by which the 

intangible One is made plain. The childish adult is what 

makes the innocent, joyful Child visible and clear upon 
the tables. And so I thank the childish alcoholic, I thank 

the drunk forgetting down to the pits of hell of guilt and 

worthlessness, to be so helpless that I see by contrast the 

power and Reality of Beautiful Eternal One, Love and 

Beauty and Wonder of Joy and Peace. And now I don't 

need him anymore and call him/her by his/her new name. 

Oh, Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, 

there is no guilty one.


Monday, May 22, 2017

Sweet Symphony of Life
Rose Burrows

Life is One All-inclusive Symphony, a Perfect, Harmonious Symphony with an infinite repertoire of jubilant joy and sweet sorrow and all the nuances therein.  The Symphony does not discriminate against, nor is it intimidated or disturbed by its sorrowful parts.  It does not ignore the passages that sing of anguish and pain, or to the agony of loss.  It does not try to silence them or to pretend they are something other than what they are.  It plays them with as much heart and gusto as it does its light and happy, glorious and triumphant parts.  It is all One wondrous Symphony echoing the Sweet Wonder that is Life.  The lonesome violin reaches the depths of the soul and opens the Heart to its deepest feelings...not to make judgments of good and evil but simply to feel and to let Be.  The most tender and loving parts of the Divine Symphony, in fact, sing of the sweet sorrow, of anguish so rich and so deep, it reveals the delicate beauty of God's Love.

Outside is inside and inside is outside.  It is as the symphony tuning its instruments before the concert.  Though the tuning appears to be outside the symphony, the sounding of false notes is not outside.  Symphony knows ALL of Itself by knowing what it is and what it is knows all this within Its Own Self- Its Own Self-Revelation.  Symphony does not condemn itself, it does not condemn its false notes, it strikes the precise, true note, pure and clear and holds that note until all instruments resound to its perfect pitch.

If the instruments (individual you/me/microcosm) are not tuned, the Symphony (macrocosm) can only perform a cacaphony.  In tuning, the false notes are played, the lies are exposed and harmony is re-established as all instruments play in the same pitch.  The Symphony now gives a Perfect Melody of Joy and sorrow, one as beautiful as the other.  Instrument in tune, one tastes the sorrow's sweetness and knows there is no evil.  Inside is outside and outside is unison we sing the One-der (wonder ) and Glory of Love as the One and Only Son(g) of God made tangible in the brotherhood of man.  Nothing is changed yet everything is changed.  We could say conversely that everything is changed but noting is changed..but our world is New.

We are the Awareness, God's Awareness before aware of Itself playing that Melody of Love.  God could not know or examine Itself other than through/as this One right here.  We are the "where" and the "when" of the Divine Symphony disclosing itself to itself.  There is noting to do, to change.   The time is NOW to clang the cymbals and shout "Halleluia", I am already IT" and to march on with courage to the best of our very own Heart's drums!  

The Symphony that is one with each and every note frees the Heart to leap for joy and dance to Its own delight or to weep and let the body shake in anguish or despair from every form of loss and to be free to feel good about it.  This is especially important for the dear men on our planet who have been conditioned to be responsible, to be in control, to be tough and rational and logical and full of false pride, men who have been made to feel unworthy if they are humble and trusting and sweet and loving and patient and kind and...

Some are confused, believing that the human can be reformed and made into a better person, that Light makes the human more comfortable, more secure, more spiritual if you will.  That is not it at alL!  Seeing and knowing does not make the mortal more pleasant, more lovable, more giving or more powerful, nor more healthy or wealthy.

If God is One, (and I am that One) Changeless, Immutable, can anything be more than That?  What does it matter if I am supposedly enlightened or not 'enlightened'?  To whom would it matter, to whom would it make a difference?  Could I, would I change the Light or prevent it from being all that It includes?  No, I cannot change the Love of God, nor can I be separate from this One no matter what the world looks like or does...God stays the same no matter what happens and nothing can happen to God.  I am free to carry on and do what I do and it makes no difference.  All the while I know that nothing that is Real is limited or subject to wordly events or circumstances or people or things.

It is somewhat like carrying a pebble in your shoe, a stone of false identity, thinking that there is something else to study, to understand, to acquire or do or be but when we let go the search the stone disappears and the shoe is comfortable again.

The walk takes us to that the Eye of the storm that we can observe the images and know they can never touch us.  Within the Symphony we are free from trying to be something we are not, we are released into the Experience of Life...Life frees us from the harness of rules and conditions and the dogma, from the need to fit into a mold.  The Symphony is an on-going song of crescendos and variations in is Love Ever New!  You are PERFECT just as you are, you cannot be 'less than' or more than the Only One Is!  There is nothing else to search for.  We are One with the Melody of Eternal Love that is All there Is!


Saturday, May 20, 2017

The Child IN US Lives

 From the parents' perspective, from the ordinary way of looking at things, and this is applicable to ALL parents, the same scenario exists.  Unaware of the limited perspective, the parent is looking for the child to love him, and why not?  That's the way it should be.  The parent thinks he has demonstrated every bit of love that the child can expect from him and he has, to the best of his ability.  Now, damit he expects something in return.  How about a little respect?

What the parent might not see is that he too is looking for love from 'out there', but if the child doesn't have it and the parent doesn't have it, where is it going to come from?  The parent may be tricked into thinking he has fulfilled all conditions of good parenting but if the child is not responding it is because the Child Heart within that IS LOVE KNOWS only love and the outside doesn't reflect what he knows.  The child finds himself in a strange place, a place of mixed messages, a place of fear, insecurity and no love.  He cannot identify with what he sees and this causes him to be disoriented and confused.  He feels unloved, unvalidated, unsupported because the scene does not coincide with what he knows of Love.  The parent wants something of the child, the parent demands that the child make him feel good (love him) by meeting the parent's expectations, by making him proud, by respecting him, by honoring him...something is demanded of the child in return for something the child did not receive.  So, what's the matter with that kind of love?

This is a difficult and very painful problem for all concerned. It certainly is not from lack of trying, you've put all available resources to the test.  The human attempts at resolution can at best provide an anaesthetic to kill the pain temporarily but since the sore remains festering it will return again.  But perhaps this is here to boost all concerned into a higher view of things. 

 To me it is a problem that cannot be resolved on the level of the problem.  The underlying Fact of this life form is the visible scene but it will only be resolved at Source.  The underlying Fact of this life form is Love.  The antecedant is Love.  At source, we are Light, Love.  We cannot see it because we ARE it, just like we cannot see ourself but only a reflection of ourself in the mirror and we are like the cat fighting its reflection in that mirror.  We are like the donkey chasing its tail.  We are dealing with a shadow, with a love that is limited, that is contained and conditional whereas the Essence, the original Love is pure, infinite, unlimited, free as the breeze because when we find it it is right here where I am, and it is everywhere present, therefore we do not, cannot go anywhere to get it.

We have it all backwards, we HAVE it, therefore it is about giving it but we're trying to 'get it' from 'out there' instead of letting it flow from within.  When we find it within, in the Child Heart we discover that giving is receiving as we see it flowing back to us naturally.  That is why, in the bible when  the widow was asked to give something of what she had in her house she gave a drop of her cruise of get the flow activated.  

The world is already perfect, we just need to SEE it.  The strength, power, dignity, intelligence, creativity, insight and courage of us is the Child Heart, the wise loving one, the original genuine one and it is already Being.  This is the love that never leaves you and when you find it, you KNOW how to give it and your child receives it, recognizes it, thrives by it and lives in Peace.  It is the parent's job to find the Love-Light of Wisdom and  Goodness.  This is the Love that is reflected to his offspring.  The child then says 'aha, this is it, I am safe here.  I am secure, I am at Home.  Love is what I Am and it is passed on to the next generation as it flows its natural course infinitely.

It can be an arduous task for the adult, the parent who did not find love reflected from his parents to find the Child Heart of himself but the  cycles of 'not love', of trying to get it from others cannot be broken any other way.

Shakespeare says of this world that it is a stage and all of us are actors in it. Wise observation.  On the stage of life, the visible scene now looks like so:  it is the parent's job to be in "that place of Perfect Love' that can reflect nothing but love, Eternal Light, Everlasting Joy, Immutable, Immortal Love that comes from within.  How much more secure can we be, if we are IT, it cannot but follow us everywhere we go and when we know
that we are it, It cannot but follow us everywhere we go.

  And it works this way because the world is myself. It is myself I see reflected in the world.

Years ago I published a little booklet titled "The Little Love Light", an exercise that I did with my grandchildren at bedtime.  It illustrates where Love comes from and that there is no place that Love is NOT.  It is available through Pay Pal. 

Note:  Had I had the means to record on a disk it would have been more effective but it is not difficult to follow and one can use their own imagination to personalize it for themselves.

Blessings and Love,

Rose Burrows

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Excerpt from a talk 

by: William Samuel

. the experience of illumination comes on as stillness, out of quietness. It comes from the absence of effort. It has never never been reached while one is gnashing his teeth, trying with might and mane to crash the gates of light. Even longing for the experience is baneful and I can say without equivocation that the written or spoken instructions of teachers who go out of their way to create the desire for illumination should all be put aside. Light blooms in the gentle conversation, in the quiet moment, in the happy atmosphere where enthusiasm prevails. Light blooms in the experience of being love. Light blooms from giving to others. Breakthroughs occur… the breakthroughs that we call light, occur spontaneously and gently in proportion to the honest stand that we take, acknowledging light to be the already fact of this identity right here, right now, already. And then, I think it isn’t enough to have the experience and then be contented to talk about it or write about it. We live the new life as it comes to us. We live it and the new revelation is perpetuated and expanded only by this living of it, which you see, is really to give it. The new revelation is extended and perpetuated only by forsaking the previous views and living the new view that the light allows.
Just a simple example. This action that I’m engaged in here, of writing and talking to those who’ve come so far, has neither motive nor human purpose behind it. It is just my own doing. It is guileless and it is heartfelt. It is the action that light has just indicated for me to do and I do it as irresistibly as yon mockingbird’s urge over there to shake the boughs and sing.
I have been asked about this matter of reaction, why the truth sometimes seems to be followed by a period of upheaval and torment and foment in one’s personal affairs. The absolute statement, or a statement being as nearly in as absolute as a statement can be, is somewhat like a chord that is sounded in perfect pitch. Now, the chord does nothing positively or negatively for those who are in tune, but it produces a discordant resonance in those who are out of tune and of course, out of that discord comes the knowledge of which strings to tighten or which ones to loosen. Now, the aim in our self-to-self writing is to sound the proper pitch, to make the absolute statement as best we can, not to get anyone to agree with it, whether it’s correct or incorrect…that’s beside the point…we simply make the sound, make the statement as best we can.
Now, those who come here are those who usually…well, I’ll put it like this, in the form of an analogy…those who come here are hoping to find the proper note, to hear the proper pitch, which often is not, they discern very uncomfortably out of the dissonance that what is said here produces. Now, even though the discomfort is unconsciously beneficial to the unwary, or to those who have come here expecting the truth to be like oil on troubled water, well then, the jolt is disillusioning and our temptation is to argue with whatever makes us uncomfortable. So, the chord sounded by way of a letter or a book or impersonal tape leaves less room for personal reactions, right?...

Saturday, April 22, 2017


 by: Rose Burrows

    Suffering, pain and anguish bring all together in the heart.  When we observe others... brother, sister, mother, father, son, daughter... friend or foe... in deep sorrow, the heart opens to a universal language called love and we become our brother's keeper.  Their pain moves us beyond ourselves to an unselfish love; their pain becomes our pain and we would do anything in our power to comfort them.   The petty judgements (lies) that have caused division melt away and only love (Truth) remains.  The pain of others awakens the Mother (Love) in us, it puts us in touch with our heart and soul. In that moment where love is pure there is no enemy, the heart is all-inclusive.  Love begets love.

Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much
seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

The Contradistinction called Death
(by William Samuel)
An understanding of the "principle of contradistinction" allows for the unravelling of a number of mysteries and the tying together of loose ends of metaphysical truth.  While our understanding of this principle is not a prerequisite for arrival, it helps us comprehend why we are already there.  Also, it is a means by which the enigma of 'death' can be comprehended "this side of the grave."  So I will use it in the following discussion of Life's contradistinction, called "death."

When we see the corn pulled in the Fall and watch the stalks turn brown in the Winter wind, we do not think of the death of "corn."  Rather, we consider corn in its totality and know that Winter is not the time of growing.  When Summer comes we see the corn standing tall again in the sunshine, swaying in an August wind.  It is corn from the harvest of the year before that is still growing green-in another row, perhaps; in another corner of the field.

So, what is this matter of 'death'?  What is the much ado over it?  Why is it an '"enemy"?  We end the enemy by no longer judging it to be an enemy.  We end the appearances of certain other things by ending the judgments that called those appearances bad.
The statement "the last enemy to be destroyed" labels the appearances as an enemy.  But listen, listen:  it is one thing to see the valuelessness and powerlessness of death and call it a dream.  It is quite another to look on the event and see it as neither enemy nor friend.

When we stop limiting awareness to just the "tangible" purview of Eternity and admit to the possibility of the intangible (as the other half), we no longer see things as beginning and ending, as having birth and death.

In the Winter when the kernel of corn is stored in a bag in the seed house, the full being of corn is there yet.  Tangibly speaking, it is in miniature compared to the Summer way of looking at corn, but it is all there.  If we had an internal way, a Winter way of introspectively looking within the kernel, we would find the corn right there as before, without having come to an end.

In much the same way, the human view of existence is a half-view, an incomplete, male or female view, a rich or poor, right or wrong, good or evil, dead of alive view...but the a half view, nonetheless; only a partial view.  Uninhibited, unlimited, unbound awareness is a complete view, a whole view, a Winter and Summer view combined.  Awareness views "as a tree in paradise wherein the leaves do not fall in Winter of Summer." (Thomas)

There seems to be an internal and external view of the kernel of corn-a Summer and Winter view.  Humanity is geared to the Summer view exclusively--the external view, the good-bad, male-female, real-unreal, relative-absolute, dead or alive perspective.
There is another perspective: the whole view, the centered view, the transcendent view.  This is the perspective of uninhibited, unpossessed, uncontained Infinite AWARENESS-I!  Who says we are bound to the male outlook or the female outlook because "we were born that way?  Who says we see everything as either good or bad because that is the nature of the beast?  Who says Identity is either enlightened or unenlightened, expanded or unexpanded, developed or undeveloped, awake or sleeping?  Who is twisting our arm and making us continue those beliefs?  Not God, not Reality, not Wholeness, not Allness, not Awareness!

We stop identifying as half the pendulum's swing, as half of All.  Awareness (Identity) is COMPLETE.  We stop thinking of ourselves as male, female, good, bad, enlightened, unenlightened, awake or sleeping.  We do not have to think in that sense at all.  We simply look--watch--behold--be: and find our former view of Life with its apparent contradistinction (death) appearing in new perspective.
And so, our valiant Heart
Just keeps on singing Its Love Song
Its mournful passages and its joyful ones
All within the Symphony of Life
And there is no death
Only Love that God Is!

Love from my heart to your heart (One Heart)

Rose Burrows

Friday, April 14, 2017

Love Letters from North Montgomery Street - Spring 2002
by: Sandy Jones

It is easy to love what we love.  However, it is the things we do not love that need to be loved.  I have found my way out of many 'difficult circumstances' through the power of love.  I know it works.  loving our life when it is all rosy and peaches n'dream...that is good, that is grand, we would always live in gratitude for the good things.  But, we must, even more so, live in gratitude and love when situations seem to threaten us.  Those are the times when working with our attitude, our inner soul, Child Self, is most essential.  We can change the scene by changing our attitude.  Love really does conquer all things.  We can change the scene by changing our attitude.  Love really does conquer all things that appear 'out to get us'.  Honest It does.  I have seen it work many times in my life.  One must try love, even if you think you cannot do it.  If you can't find a place to start, then start here.  "Well, I sure love me for even trying to love my way out of this.  I sure love my courage, my devotion to God and my grace.  I love the deep integrity of my heart that leads me and speaks to me of love as an option."  The voice is God and praise God we hear this voice.  Can you love it all, no matter what it appears to be?  Yes!  Love it all because deep in your soul you know, from the bottom of your heart, as naive or as silly as it may sound, you know love will fix it all, love is the answer.  We decide to love .  It is our choice which attitude we use to negotiate our lives.  Our attitude is what shapes our world.  Our attitude is what we can choose, even if we cannot chose our circumstances.  The Power is most certainly within each of us.

Our attitude is a vibration, it is an energy, and we can align ourselves with love and light at its highest vibration or we can be of lesser character and allow the low vibrations to envelope us.  We hold the power of choice.

As you change your energy through gratitude for all things, just the way they you change your attitude to one of love for life just the way it is, good and bad situations alike, then you will see your world change as you left your own sight.  The sights you witness become filled with light and love  Miracles do happen.

Our study is not one of intellectual meta-
physics.  All the words we read should bring us back to the peace that everything is all right just the way it is. A rejoicing heart is the answer, not a complex erudite, rote understanding of words.  Words won't help in our time of need  What does help is the real work that is 'asked of us, that we assert our heart, the heart that is tenderly true to God and to Its Self, our heart that can muster the strength and bravery to choose the attitude of love.

During the hard times these are the times when love needs to be used, when love needs to be put into action, acted on and lived.

Now we see the power is here within us.  Live an attitude of love, even with all the commotion, uneasiness, difficulties.  Choose love, and love works, it is most powerful.

With Bouquets of Sunshine and Tulips,

Love, Sandy Jones


Thank you so much Sandy Jones.  I was so amazed to come across this, like a sweet delicacy to soothe the soul.  The Child Heart whispering its delicate treats in the ear of those who will but listen!  1982 ...fancy that!

Rose Burrows

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Seminar by William Samuel
Tape #3  PEUBLO

as I often did in those days, into the philosophers and I had noticed how Pluto and Socrates and Aristotle had a great deal to say about beauty. The pond experience allowed me to see things in new light. Suddenly, mountains weren’t mountains anymore, they were real mountains and trees, they weren’t just ordinary things, they were life, courage, strength, patience, comfort, service and birds, we say in the south…Rachel, every morning says, “time for me to go out and feed the birds”…were angels, but it didn’t last, by the end of the night they were birds again, mountains…

All right, in Cade’s Cove, I asked this old man, “what is beauty?” He was selling honey, he was one of the few who had been allowed to remain there and he was to be a custodian. His ancestors had settled in the mountains, he was kept on by the Park Service to maintain the land and he had hives all over the place. He was selling honey and had his little stand down by the dirt road. In Cade’s Cove there’s no electricity or telephones, you go to bed when it’s dark and you get up at daylight, in some parts, because they keep it that way. And I said to this old man, “What is beauty?” And he said to me, “this is beauty, this is beauty,” and he pointed at the beautiful blue sky, he says, “blue sky, those big white clouds and this meadow out in front of me, the mountains.” Right by us was a stream, and the water was ice cold, he says: “there’s beauty,” and just then a big grey squirrel went hopping by, and he said: “there’s beauty,” and I said, “all right, that’s beauty.”

Let me tell you what I found out. I found out that this old man had many many years earlier decided to leave his home there in the mountains and he went to work up in the east. He left the mountains, he left all of this beauty and he went to work up east and while he was there his wife became ill and passed on, his son became ill, passed on. All the money he accumulated while he was there was taken from him in a mis-adventure. His health broke down and everywhere he looked he saw the smoke and grime of industry. He talked of dirt and anguish and poverty and finally he was old and helpless, but the southern nature… it is difficult to be understood outside the south, unless one knows it—fiercely independent, very proud, and he wasn’t going to be taken care of by government, he wasn’t going to be put in kind of a nursing home or anything like that. He wasn’t going to be on anybody’s dole, so he went back to his mountains, and as I understand, he walked all the way. It was after that experience I said to him, “what is beauty?” He said: “this is beauty.”

Now, suppose with me, if you will, that I had happened on him as a young man, he’d been born in those mountains and raised in those mountains and he had been raised by fine folks, mountain people, taught to love the beauty around him and to use it, to utilize it, supposed I had happened on him then, before his grand expedition and I’d said to him as I said to him in a moment of anguish, looking for help, anything, I said to him: “what’s beauty?” Suppose this young man had said to me, “this is beauty, the blue sky is beauty, those big white clouds, these mountains and this meadow and the stream right here, this is beauty.” Suppose at that time a little grey squirrel had hopped across the water and he said, “that’s beauty,” here is a man who has, in heart, a little explanation here, we’d spoken to him in his youth and he told me exactly what he told me in his old age, the same thing twice, what would be the difference in the two statements? I think that, intellectually, you can see, in the twinkling of an eye, that after he has gone, even though his first words were correct as far as correct-incorrect go, right or wrong go, a truthful statement or untruthful statement, though the first statement was absolutely correct, the second statement is the same statement but it’s not the same statement because the second statement comes through with authority, this man speaks with authority. Why? Because he lived and experienced and fought the battles of is-not beauty, the hypothetical opposite, the means by which beauty is fully understood and known.

Now, intellectualism could say, “ah, come on, I don’t have to experience all the negatives in order to know the positives,” but, insofar as we live a negative, we are experiencing the positive, fully, in order to know it. You see, the young man gave me a very truthful and honest statement, the old man, the same man, and it was me, myself, talking to myself—he’s speaking with authority the second time.

You tell me that when arises a man to know beauty and know it without doubt or equivocation, to know it and know he knows it…absolutely not…this time the sky was blue and he told me, he said, “you know, when I came back home, I flang myself in that creek and I hugged the water”, he said, “I hugged the trees.” And while he was talking to me a squirrel went by.

All right. What appear to be the negatives in our experience are making very plain the positives. The positives are the real and the true, the positives have the power and authority. Noise the means by which we know what silence is. You can’t tell me you would know what wealth is had there not ever appeared to be penury or poverty or lack or absence in your affair? Who knows what health is until it would seem he’s in an experience, what is called ‘is-not’ health, a negative, an opposite, but there’s no power and authority in the opposite, the power and authority lies with the real, the truth, the eternal. What is bad? The means by which good is made plain, so we know it and know we know it.

During the break, if you will be kind enough to keep your mind just stayed on these ideas, in general, and don’t go wandering off to what’s happening in Cuba and the troops there and whether President Carter is going to be attacked by another rabbit and whether there’s going to be turmoil or collapse of the economy or what, just keep your mind stayed, just a little bit on—okay. One doesn’t have to dismiss the sense of anguish from one’s self but to say, ‘what’s going on here, the means by which I can understand what peace is all about.’ What is night? It’s certainly not the actions of light. By some definitions, it’s the absence of light because the sun is occluded. No such thing, every grain of salt you pick up can be turned into an immense ball of light and light spreads, light is magic. What is darkness? The means by which light is made plain. Who would ever know what light was, what light is, unless there had been light or darkness. Who would ever know what the consistency of eternal peace is all about had it not been through the ups and downs, the comings and goings, the mountaintop experiences and the waverings and the frustration. My peace give I unto thee, not as the world understands these things, was the statement the Carpenter made. Now, what I’ve said to you today is true and faithful because I’ve lived it and I know. We’ll be back together at 2:30.

Hello everyone. This is what in the army is referred to as sleepy time. This is time that is considered impossible, impossible to communicate, so I will keep that in mind and I will make allowances for it, and so forth, but we’ll communicate—whatever that means, communicate—communicate sounds as though we have two minds on the scene, doesn’t it, it sounds like it’s going from one place to another place, and so forth, but that’s just how it seems.

Let me begin by saying that what was said this morning was a potent period. It may have seemed very gentle, but if it didn’t, then you were listening with your heart, that is, if it didn’t seem potent, or it didn’t seem distracting and upsetting, it was because you were listening with your heart. What was said this morning was intellectually disturbing because it chopped down my shibboleths, icons, cherished notions. It may not have shot them down but it spoke as though they didn’t exist or paid very little attention to them.

Consequently, the emotions that might have been felt in lunch could have been a great deal of upset, disturbance, or anguish or super-seriousness, or super-sensitivity, all of which is just trying—it makes no difference because it was intended that it be that way. I am sorry if it sounds devious or anything like that. There is no way that any kind of teaching or telling of stories, or relating one’s original experience can be done without breaking through what is called the gauze of non-attention or the film of ego, whatever you want to call it, and the various disciplines of the world that used different methods to do that—this is assuming, of course, that there is a gauze of non-attention within the one mind, but assuming there is, and bearing in mind that we’ve all been raised with the idea, “there he is”, you know, the veil of misunderstanding—but a mist rose up to cover the whole face of the earth…and so forth, all of that…assuming that such a thing exists, that the Divine Mind has such a veil or mist between Itself and itself, between Mind and its own Self-awareness—all right, assuming it does, and it certainly seems so, then all of the instruction in the world that’s been geared at some point or another to break through it, for instance, those of you who’ve ever had any sort of Zen discipline, know that you’ll be slapped in the face, you’ll be whipped in order to—or you’ll be asked questions, you’ll be embarrassed, humiliated, but only the old sense of self is embarrassed and humiliated, only the ego, the personal sense of I am somebody and who is this guy that he can come along to do such a thing.

But, when you were in school and the teacher whacked the blackboard with the eraser and said, “now, pay attention,” the same thing was going on. When, all of a sudden, she took the ruler and slapped the desk and made a big noise and you came out of your stupor, longing for vacation again, looking out the window, you came back to the attention of the classroom.

All right, what was said this morning was done in a way to very gently reach the attention of the surreal of us and it was done simply by addressing the real of us, the honest of us, the heart of us. Over here, you’ll notice I’ve divided the board, the whole world would appear to be divided, all tangibility has its division, all organization has its division, everything is divided against itself, it would seem. The one side over here, marked (I) is the intellect, and all spoken words are addressed to the intellect. And because words are made by people, words are supposed to make sense and therefore, they are addressed precisely to the intellect of us, and the more precisely they’re addressed, the great philosophers would say, the more reason and logic that are behind the statements to support the statements, the better it is because then I will understand. But now, as any story is told, and as any memory comes to mind about husband or family or children or youth or age or anything, that memory always comes with it a feeling, albeit not necessarily good, but a feeling, which is intangible, at least it will be extremely difficult to put it into words. Very often, with a spoken story, as you heard twenty, at least, this morning, with those stories often come an inner melody, an inner song that has direct bearing, and that song, of course, is tied directly to what would appear to be our accumulated experience, our memory. To some, apparently…I say apparently for good reason, as I can only be certain of the experience of one awareness, this one here. I’m not certain that any image sees, hears, feels anything but I am certain that this awareness is aware, the Divine awareness that is I. I can speak about that and address that only.

But it seems, as I listen to the responses and see them and remember my own, that with every memory comes sort of a melody, a feeling, and it’s often beyond words. For example, who can explain The Star Spangle Banner in words. You say, ‘well, I can’t put it into words, but you give me a piece of paper and I will diagram, I will put the star spangle banner in the notes.” Yes, but can you put goose pimples into those notes, can you put the feeling of pride, if you feel it, when you hear The Star Spangle Banner? I learned a few years ago I shouldn’t do all that because, being a soldier, maybe I’m kind of like nationalistic or very prideful of country, and so forth and so on, but to me, I still tingle when I hear it, and I love to see—I stay up sometimes just to see it on television with the fields of grain and all that sort of thing but I tingle when I hear the French national anthem—nothing could be more beautiful than that, it’s mine too, you know, when I listen to the British national anthem. And the other day I really listened for the first time as an American band played the Chinese national anthem, and holy smoke, it was great, it was beautiful. Who could put those tingles into the sheet of music, or into words?

All right, we’ve been told that those who know don’t speak, that is those who know the truth don’t talk about it. There’s a great deal of truth in that statement. We’ve been told that those who talk about it and say, “this is it”, don’t know it, really, and there’s a grand degree of truth in that too. The intellect of myself would say, “well, why is it that the people who made that remark spent such a long lifetime making an effort to speak of the truth or to tell about it and to explain it; why did they do it?” I’ve answered that for myself only in that it seems I can’t do otherwise, I can’t do otherwise than explain what I live. I’m asked by others, people come, and so it would be rude, would it not, to not make the attempt to answer the question. Others say, ‘how do you feel about thus and such’? Would it be honest to not reply? So, I reply, I go where I’m asked to go because it seems, it appears to be a need and if I can be helpful, I shall because I used to do the same thing.

Now, in addressing the heart, I’ve learned that it is possible to talk beyond words. Listen gently, listen like a child right now, forget trying to figure out whether this makes sense or not and just listen. The child of us hears a sound and thrills. It doesn’t say, “is it a good sound or a bad sound; does it make sense, does it not make sense?” It just listens and thrills. As the child gets older it listens and hears a sound and says, “ghosties, maybe, I wonder what ghosties are?” What are they? I went through all these ghost towns and I didn’t see a ghost. The child listens, and the feeling accompanies the listening. The feeling is quite beyond words, but the feeling is real.

It would appear that feeling, like anything else, is tangible and that feeling is tangible because it is included within awareness and is not being all there is to awareness, therefore, since it isn’t all there is to awareness, it would be finite, it has a beginning and an end, so therefore, because it appears to have a beginning and an end, there can be what we call feelings that are positive and apparent feelings that are negative. They’re opposites.

All right. We pointed out this morning in as soft a way as I could, but really, in a very brutal way, that our anguish is often to teach us what joy is all about. I sense that the dark night of the soul is the means by which we can see what light is, and our wonderment, our feeling of inadequacy, our sense of separation or our feeling of being rejected are all to point out what homeless is.

How can you teach beyond words? It seems that I’ve been shown this, been given this. I try to be as honest and faithful with it as I can. I want to, here, use this little gizmo as an illustration, and those of you, bear with me, that have heard it 1,000 times before, but, if you walk up to a piano and you strike one note—and the stories I told this morning, each were a note—each of those stories, I hoped, were intellectually honest and had all of the reason and logic necessary to support the story, so that the intellect would say, A + B = C, he’s talking about C, he’s told us A, he’s told us B, therefore, it makes sense, and the intellect doesn’t argue.

All right, but along with this story comes an overtone, a feeling that is often an accumulation of a lot of memories, a lot of experiences and everything else, but often comes another feeling, sometimes it will bring anguish, sometimes it brings pain or a tear or a great sense of relief, but it’s an overtone.

Okay, now, when I told another story, it was like that, another note, a finite story that has a beginning and an end, but with that story also comes an overtone of its own. But now, we live when we are concerned with tangibility and words, we are therefore concerned with sequence. The first word of a sentence is before the second word, and the first note of the symphony is before the end, and therefore, we’re talking about sequence and we’re in an arena called time, because what is time but the measure of distance between things. So, I tell one story, (strikes a note) which is like so and somewhere along there’s another story, like so (strikes a note), each with their accompanying overtones, but tell me, all you musicians, when you put the two notes together, what happens? Any of you who have played the piano know that when you strike two notes together you hear their harmony, you hear the overtone, so while each note appears to be separate, each note has an essence of its own, each note, hopefully, is reasonable and logical and makes sense. There is another overtone that those notes sound that is heard by the heart of us. If you happen to be on the piano, you actually hear the music.

Now, the overtone is strictly one’s own. I made no words to announce that overtone. I restricted it in no way. The overtone is immaculate, the overtone is pristine. Now, here’s what I’ve learned, I’ve learned how to make overtones. We all do it intuitively, perhaps not consciously. For years and years and years, as a writer, I wrote and didn’t know, didn’t realize what I was doing and in the process of living I didn’t realize, in the process of teaching or explaining ideas to soldiers or others I found that I was making overtones—I was making them, but unconsciously.

When you read Charles Dickens, oh a master of overtones. His bombasting chapters are preceded by a chapter of immense moodness and quietness, softness, gentleness, and so the bombasserphy of the second chapter sounds twice as loud, but the overtone is, what’s the word, is exponential, it’s greater still. When one is getting ready to make a point firmly at a business meeting and the salesmen are there and the other business people are there, if he wants to make the point, he might find himself banging the table in the process of making the point. He’s adding to his words. I know that in the process of writing “The Melody…” I wasn’t aware, at the time, how softness preceded loudness and roundness preceded the straightness, and how the various parts of things were counterposed or poised, once against the other to accentuate and to make clear.

Well, as I began stories… and the only stories I can tell are the honest ones I’ve lived and I only told them because it seemed people wanted to hear them and because they too had seen that they could go and do likewise, and that it was possible and it wasn’t a dream or a metaphysical goal that was unattainable but it was something that was immediately attainable because if I could reach it, most surely, anyone could. And others live it, and so on and so forth. And so the word spread and the stories were told, and I began to find that well, after all, this experience would be tangible, or a finite experience because it just has so many things that have happened, very full. I don’t know anyone that has done anymore than this body has, had anymore experiences than this body, has gone anymore places, studied with anymore teachers, nor sat at the feet of more enlightened than this has, or stand at the feet of fools—whichever might be the case, or seem to be the label attached. I don’t know of anything that’s had anymore anguish or anymore joy than this body has.

Now, bear in mind, I am not this body. Awareness is …(end of side 1)

they can do, that they do…I know, for instance, that certain stories and the overtone it produces when mixed with one’s very emotions at the moment, can produce an immediate scene of what I’m saying, it’s an immediate thing. Others would not be immediate at all, but await, maybe a moment of anguish or a moment of anger or a moment of frustration, but when that comes, then the story or the story’s overtone is remembered. And listen, is there anymore honest way really, to teach or to make a point? If I simply tell someone what to do, oh, how foolish I found that to be, how vainglorious, as if I know something to do, that you should do! And I’ve belaboured that point for a lot of years, sort of like telling a leaf that you see falling off the tree, and there’s a trail down below, it’s like telling that leaf which side of the trail to fall on, “that’s bad over there, son, don’t go that way because that’s ridiculous, fall on that side, son because there is a life of intelligence and joy and ease”, and wouldn’t it be stupid to stand out in the woods and tell the leaves which side to fall on. And furthermore, in teaching in such a manner, 99% of all metaphysical instruction is done in such a manner, actually, when you get right down to it, but it still leaves one basic area untouched, and that is one knowing beyond doubt, a knowledge of an idea that is not just vicarious knowledge. For example, I can tell someone, “well, I’ve been driving an automobile a lot of years, when the pavement gets wet down here in the south, where everybody’s cars are not adjusted very well any way and it hadn’t rained in a long time and the pavement gets wet, so when you come to curves, son, please slow down because otherwise your rear end will slip out from under and you will be over there in the seventh row of cotton or corn, or something and your car will be smashed up.” I can say that, and he can say: “well, how do you know that?” And I can say, “Because I’ve lived it, I’ve lived it, I have found out that if I go around the corner too fast, I’ll have an accident, and so you do not have to suffer the anguish I did, and so you listen to the wisdom I am because it has at least chronological wisdom connected with it, and so you don’t have to have the same thing, and if you listen and believe, you don’t have to have such an accident.” Well, that’s good, that’s true, that’s fine, and of course, all intellectual instruction is based on that and we can listen to it and we can believe it, provided we can listen to someone we can believe and know we can, but it leaves unanswered this matter of omniscience, this thing of knowing that there is one life and that being the one life alone, and knowing that beyond any question of a doubt, beyond belief, and even beyond belief or faith, all right. I will believe at this point, because I have no other alternative, so therefore, God, you’re all, I believe you’re all, I’m nothing—whatever that means, and you’re in charge. And you take the great leap of faith, and you put it everything in God’s hands. And incidentally, we are required to make such a move as that, and that’s what the human experience is. Finally, there is anguish in some quarter that does force an absolute surrender of the sense of personal me, if by chance it happens to be no more than age itself and what appear to be the declining years and finally the crutches, and then finally the stroke, and then finally a bed, and finally, the inability to talk at all, and finally, an inability to do anything, and finally there’s a surrender, if that should be it, but that’s not necessary. It doesn’t have to be that way.

Well, by the use of overtones, I’ve learned that I can make just a few notes, and I, at one time, sat down and I said, “how many are the notes that I know and I know I know”, and I have looked and examined and watched and seen and this is the tangible consequences of this story and this story, or this group of stories or this kind of a presentation and that kind of a second hour or third hour, what do I really know and I found out there were only seven, just seven, and one day at Woodsong, I said to a very lovely lady who was there with her husband, I said, “I don’t know why but I can make seven overtones, and with the grandest, grandest, sweet smile, the lady said, “there are only seven notes”, all the seven were those seven notes. And I’ve been eternally grateful for that kind of reminder.

All right, this morning, I used overtone. The consequences, the effects of those overtones are really devastating because I laid bare, I sensed a personal sense of self, and I did it all while addressing the intellect, every bit. I found that every one of these presentations, I do address the intellect, because I found out that in this tangible arena of people, places and things, where intellectualism reigns supreme, the prince of this world, where everything must be reasonable and logical, else it’s not accepted at all, I found out I’d better make this as intellectually honest and straight as I can. It must be intellectually supported, else the schools, the philosophers or the theologians are only like a June bug.

All right, now, this morning I did lay bare personal sense of self in the process of addressing the intellect. I would like this afternoon, before all the questions that I hope you’ll have, I would like to make a few statements about the heart of us. Where is the intellect and where is the heart? Well, what is the heart? The heart, I guess, is that—I don’t know how to put it into words, all I can do is make a stab at it, like I don’t know how to put truth, spirit, God, any of those terms into words that are precise, I just make a stab at it, but the heart, when I refer to the heart, I have reference to that in us that is intuitive, that is childlike, that is inordinately honest and is forever there but always seeming to fight a battle with the intellect. It would appear that the two are poled, one to the other, but they’re not—they’re not.

During the remainder of the evening, the statements I make will be addressed to the heart of us. Now, in the process of doing that, I have a semantic problem and I address this semantic problem, of course, to the intellect. Let me use a diagram here. We will say this diagram represents infinity. It represents all, it represents whole, it represents the Godhead, it represents all that truth is. That’s what it represents. No such diagram can hold all that, can it. Why? Any story that I happen to tell, one of the things that I’ve learned in my search for truth, only to discover the truth is what I was and am and what everything is always has been. If I tell the story of my own search it will be quite fair.

Here comes a story of my past. No matter how honestly I tell my story, no matter how well I tell it—here’s the story. Why? Because the story is told in words, words are finite, words are tangible, words are created by people. Now, words are a wonderful thing, they’re readily born, they come along and they’re filled with all kinds of color and if a person can tell the story well, which he doubts, he still is not addressing the whole truth in the process of using words, he’s told the story and able to depict it as this on that (as per illustration).

Now, have you ever noticed, when you’re in the classroom, or when you had a real good metaphysical discussion or absolute discussion, or any kind of discussion, and there is, especially, someone who is very mentally active and aggressive, and perhaps in assurance of themselves, you’re always saying to yourself, when you hear a statement that is diagraphic and someone said: “thou shall not kill”, but a big war is going on and you’ve just been drafted and you’re saying to yourself, “but, what if I’m suddenly decapitated? The ‘but what ifs’ represent this. (illustration) Here is what the speaker has just said, this is what you’ve just heard, or seen or experienced, this is what I did, the series of tales this morning and it will probably here 50,000 years and it will still just be that, as far as words go, as far as experience goes. And what is this back here? Within infinity, it would be impossible to make any kind of illustration, any kind of an analogy that the grand intellect cannot also come up with an ‘what if’. Do you follow me? What I’m saying is very simple and it doesn’t require any intellectual struggle. Now, when you listen to people talking and you have somebody that’s argumentative, you have someone yelling—somebody…

(SECTION INDISCERNABLE HERE – seems he has moved to do the illustration and the words have become too difficult…so there is a blank spot here)

To say again what I just said, I am now addressing the heart, forced to use the intellect’s words but the heart and the intellect make a beautiful balance and the two are one. They are what appear to be the basic relation, so far as my own experience goes-- seem to be the basic provision that awareness is. One might see male or female because awareness is obviously both, this awareness is all there is to all gender, both male and female, and don’t think that, as you look down at fingers and toes, and because it’s a boy or because it’s a girl, that that is one gender—never is that so. Jesus made the statement: “when you make the two into a single one”, awareness is always both of them, and oh, what a wise, wise thing this is to see the problem of gender resolved. All of a sudden, you can say, well, my goodness, the male I yearned for is already here within this very one—already present, or the female, the genders or the understanding or the service or whatever one wants to refer to that is the permanent nature of awareness is already here and we go looking for it and it has no way to appear.