Thinking?


Here I go again…I often wonder from where these thoughts come, but they do and seek expression through the power of words.

How far back can you remember? Take a moment and direct your mind to find your earliest thoughts. Sweep all distractions from your mind and with some silent concentration you will be able to guide your memory to the time when your mind was new and unencumbered with intellectual illusions in boxes of time.

Once you are there get comfortable and will the mind to pass the gossamer barrier of illusion and you will know the splendor from which you came.

Poet William Wordsworth wrote:

“Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The soul that rises with us, our life’s star, hath had elsewhere its setting, and cometh from afar. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory, do we come from God, who is our home. Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy, but he beholds the light, and whence it flows, – He sees in it his joy.”

Wordsworth is poetically saying that before we came into this physical plane, we existed in glory as conscious beings whose spirits are enthused by the light of omniscient Love and each of us is encouraged to be that love in the density of matter through experiential choice.

I believe that life is eternal. Matter and physical form is not. Physical life is only one manifestation of temporary being. The Master Jesus said, “In my Father’s house there are many mansions.” Earth is just one of the many schools for learning. Some proclaim, it is the only one, but singular belief comes from the density of our form, not from the gnosis of our being.

In whatever worlds and realms we reside, we are the divine emanations of God’s love, and perpetual life is His gift. We are the individuation of the indivisible. The reality of our life, the personification of God’s gift, is our choice based on a direct precipitate of what we think.

Descartes hypothisized: “I think therefore I am.”

The Buddha: “What we think we become.”

It’s not that we have lived before or that we will live again, it is that we never cease living.

I’m gonna go and think about ice cream for awhile. It’s easier!

True and False


Good Morning Friends,

I can’t wait for this election to be over. I said the same thing the last presidential election and the one before that. Rumor, lies and innuendo run rampant in our media outlets and especially on the Internet.

I was sent another false claim the other day. It was a fake receipt allegedly signed by Michele Obama from the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City for over four hundred dollars for a lobster dinner for two including caviar and Champagne.

The New York Post ran a story about it. A couple of days later the Post ran a retraction saying it wasn’t true. They were duped by a Political Action Committee (PAC) who sent the false receipt to discredit the Obama campaign.

Political Action Committees are beholding to no one. They can say whatever they want, make up stories, tell lies and do. Their intent is to create damaging rumors for people to believe and pass on. Common sense would tell you check it out, but it is in the nature of human ignorance to believe what you want to believe whether it’s true or not. Why is it we’d rather transgress than transform and transcend?

My new book, Stone Wisdom comes out in a couple of days. One of the entries is a poem entitled Election Limerick which I wrote after the last Presidential campaign. It seems appropriate for this post and as a commercial plug for the book.

Thanks for the indulgence.

Election Limerick
© 2008 Rolland G. Smith

Some thinking today on the pain
Of this past election campaign-
A rhyming viewpoint
To scold, not anoint.
How negative drives us insane!

Notice it’s easier to breathe
With no more political sleaze.
The ads are all gone.
Let’s vow from hereon,
To demand politics that please.

Imagine what that would be like
Back to times of Stassen and Ike.
All words must be clean,
No phrase could be mean,
Commercials could only unite.

Start it with political speech
And the rule to follow for each:
Find something that’s nice,
That’s true and precise
With phrases that honor and teach.

Maybe we should make it a law
For parties to lead or withdraw.
All ads must be true-
Now that would be new-
All perfect, no lies, not a flaw.

Tell us truthfully, where you stand.
If you need it, bring in a band.
Keep it clear! Direct!
The truth in effect,
And politics would then be grand.

Doom and Gloom


Good Morning all,

My friend Bob said to me yesterday there is so much doom and gloom out there when we have so much for which to be thankful. How about writing a poem and post about that? OK, Bob, here it is:

Doom and Gloom
© 2008 Rolland G. Smith

Let’s choose some words and play a game
To fit our national mood.
For some it’s doom and some it’s blame;
A few are misconstrued.

But I am sad in what I read
For gloom is part of it.
Investors think the growing seed
Is tarred within a pit.

That may be true and times are tough
And loss does come to mind,
But don’t you think we have enough
And need not more entwined?

We really have a lot to count
For those who keep the score
And when it’s bad we all surmount
The issues we abhor.

When global markets scrape the tanks
And numbers breach and fall
Let’s change our thoughts to giving “thanks”
For what we have at all.

We have so much, we’re spoiled kids,
Complaining all the time.
Comparing us to real skids
Our lot is most sublime.

Can we not go from East to West
And turn and then head back
Without a stop to even rest,
No border stops to track.

Do we not have a power source
Without a thought each day?
To me that is a gift perforce
And something we should weigh.

Do we not have a freedom’s grace
To say what all we please?
And let our thoughts then interface
With others in degrees.

We have a vote where some do not
And choice to make it so
Too many say, Oh, I forgot
To pull the lever row.

I’ll bet with thought a list would come
And blend within your mind.
So many gifts where we succumb
And be as if we’re blind.

There are so many things we need
To say we’re thankful for.
The sun is one and flower’s seed,
And mountains and the shore.

A gentle rain is in there too
As is an Eagles screech.
Let’s not forget the morning dew
And those who like to teach.

So when we say we’ve not enough
Complaining here and there.
Perhaps we need to call our bluff
And make the choice to share.

A thank you is oft hard to do
And some think it means weak,
But we should say it and pursue
This way to always speak.

So I will end this post this day
With lofty thoughts in mind
And hope that all who read will say
Tis gloom I leave behind.

The Mighty Oaks


Hello Friends and by the way, if I haven’t said thank you for logging in from time to time, I do so now.

What a glorious day this has been in the east. I live in the mid-Hudson valley approximately midway between New York City and Albany, New York. The fall this year was spectacular. I say, “was” since most of it is now past peek and replacing it is the season of the “drab”; a place between colorful fall and white winter.

Being still and observing is one of my choice things to do and in doing so, I invariably muse and this time the result is…

Oak Sonnet
© 2008 Rolland G. Smith

Old rusted Oaks hold firm their foliage
While other trees have shed to silhouette!
Are leafy hoards, now dead, a sacrilege?
Or does the Oak hold leaves as amulet?
Soon Winter’s wind unlocks and leaves release
But still, we’ll not, know why, this is the way
For Oak’s have always had a staying peace
That knowledge cannot change or castaway.
The Druids saw their Oaks as sacred trees
And to them prayed for guidance and support,
But that meant not they must release their leaves
To be in fall the way most trees abort.
The mighty Oaks and man are much the same.
When ready we release what we became.