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Nature of God realisation

No one can ever come close to understanding the mystery of Shiva, for he is the very essence of the transcendence of the known. He is eternally steeped in the unknown, in the unfathomable. For a soul in samadhi, Shiva is like a horizon that can never be reached, the horizon of the infinity that is illuminated by the light of his love and magnificence. The reaching, and not reaching, of the horizon of Shiva’s supreme presence is the undying journey of the soul into his ever-receding transcendental subjectivity. This is her love, for love is both reaching and not-reaching. Love, in
order to exist, can never arrive at its destination – it is always arriving. To think that by realizing one’s pure nature one has become Shiva is not only ignorant, but even arrogant.

— Anadi

 

Poems

I was wondering..

news-universe-2
I was wondering yesterday looking at the stars, how all these is created? How I am connected with all these mystery? People live on earth but rarely are wondering about the mysteries of the world. How to connect oneself with all these mighties things that are above? There are people for whom these mysteries are not so far away, they are something known as grass, trees and flowers for ordinary people. They feel what is happening far above them in the same way as they feel their own bodies. But even in ordinary things is infinite depth, because beyond the trees, grass and flowers there must be hidden world that connects everything higher and lower. There must be mirror inside mirror inside us that reveal that which is now hidden. And this is not something “far away”, this is in our very soul, nearer than anything else. Because that which is dear to us is in our depths, it’s close to our nature, to our inner being. And that which is only outer appearance is closer to our outer being. So when we are looking above at these mysteries, actually we are looking inside..

This is the poem that I found today in Agrippa book “The Philosophy of Natural Magic”:

The Number and the Nature of those things,
Called Elements—what Fire, Earth, Aire forth brings;
From whence the Heavens their beginnings had;
Whence Tide, whence Rainbow, in gay colors clad.
What makes the Clouds that gathered are, and black,
To send forth Lightnings, and a Thund’ring crack;
What doth the Nightly Flames, and Comets make;
What makes the Earth to swell, and then to quake;
What is the Seed of Metals, and of Gold;
What Virtues, Wealth, Both Nature’s Coffer hold.

Whence all things flow—
Whence Mankind, Beast; whence Fire, whence Rain and Snow;
Whence Earthquakes are; why the whole Ocean beats
Over its banks and then again retreats;
Whence strength of Herbs, whence Courage, rage of Brutes
All kinds of Stone, of creeping Things, and Fruits.

As in great haste,
What makes the golden Stars to march so fast?
What makes the Moon sometimes to mask her face,
The Sun also, as if in some disgrace?

How th’ Sun doth rule with twelve Zodiac Signs,
The Orb that’s measur’d round about with Lines—
It doth the Heavens’ Starry Way make known,
And strange Eclipses of the Sun and Moon;
Arcturus also, and the Stars of Rain,
The Seven Stars likewise, and Charles, his wain;
Why Winter Suns make tow’rds the West so fast;
What makes the Nights so long ere they be past?

Hence, by the Heavens we may foreknow
The Seasons all; times for to reap and sow,
And when ’tis fit to launch into the deep,
And when to war, and when in peace to sleep;
And when to dig up trees, and them again
To set, that they may bring forth amain.