God created man incorruptible, and made him in the image of his own nature, but through the devil’s envy, death came into the world.
Meditating on the lotus of your heart, in the centre is the untainted, the exquisitely pure, clear and sorrowless, the inconceivable, the unmanifest, of infinite form, blissful, tranquil, immortal, the womb of Brahma.
For him who has completed the journey, for him who is sorrowless, for him who from everything is wholly free, for him who has destroyed all ties, the fever of passion exists not… He is like a pool, unsullied by mud; to such a balanced one, life’s wanderings do not arise. Calm is his mind, calm is his speech, calm is his action, who, rightly knowing, is wholly freed, perfectly peaceful and equipoised.
Christmas, here again. Let us raise a loving cup: Peace on earth, goodwill to men, and make them do the washing up.
