“Every religion is the product of the conceptual mind attempting to describe the mystery.”

When we’re identified with Awareness, we’re no longer living in a world of polarities. Everything is present at the same time.

You and I are the force for transformation in the world. We are the consciousness that will define the nature of the reality we are moving into.

The dance goes from realizing that you’re separate (which is the awakening) to then trying to find your way back into the totality of which you are not only a part, but which you are.

The spiritual journey is individual, highly personal. It can’t be organized or regulated. It isn’t true that everyone should follow one path. Listen to your own truth.

It is important to expect nothing, to take every experience, including the negative ones, as merely steps on the path, and to proceed.

Our whole spiritual transformation brings us to the point where we realize that in our own being, we are enough.

Just relax and trust the process.

In mystical traditions, it is one’s own readiness that makes experiences exoteric or esoteric.

When you are already in Detroit, you don’t have to take a bus to get there.

Only that in you which is me can hear what I’m saying.

In most of our human relationships, we spend much of our time reassuring one another that our costumes of identity are on straight.

Don’t think about the past. Just be here now.

What you meet in another being is the projection of your own level of evolution.

Our interactions with one another reflect a dance between love and fear.

Do what you can on this plane to relieve suffering by constantly working on yourself to be an instrument for the cessation of suffering. To me, that’s what the emerging game is all about.

Your problem is you are too busy holding on to your unworthiness.

A daughter of mystery and moonlight magic danced within her veins her spirit singing a sweet melody as the goddess within her reigns.

You feel like the moonlight, mysteriously dark its blinding.

Eddying towards my zero points four mystery misted pens naked nib, the stars splash starlight ridden waves, on my ever-circling emotions.

The quest for precision is analogous to the quest for certainty, and both should be abandoned.

The more unintelligent a man is, the less mysterious existence seems to him.

Stitched with the bemused threads of reality our brains suffer from practicality, a mystic story edited to be a mystery.

Not how the world is, but that it is, is the mystery.

The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery.