Friday, April 9, 2021
wordless and idea-less
Let your ears hear whatever they want to hear;
let your eyes see whatever they want to see;
let your mind think whatever it wants to think;
let your lungs breathe in their own rhythm.
Do not expect any special result,
for in this wordless and idea-less state,
where can there be past or future,
and where any notion of purpose?
Stop, look, and listen.
let your eyes see whatever they want to see;
let your mind think whatever it wants to think;
let your lungs breathe in their own rhythm.
Do not expect any special result,
for in this wordless and idea-less state,
where can there be past or future,
and where any notion of purpose?
Stop, look, and listen.
~ Alan Watts
Tuesday, April 6, 2021
a flowing force
Songs are thoughts,
sung out with the breath when people are moved by great forces
and ordinary speech no longer suffices.
Man is moved just like the ice floe sailing here and there out in the current.
His thoughts are driven by a flowing force when he feels joy,
when he feels fear, when he feels sorrow.
Thoughts can wash over him like a flood,
making his breath come in gasps and his heart throb.
Something like an abatement in the weather will keep him thawed up.
And then it will happen that we, who think we are small, will feel still smaller.
And we will fear to use words.
When the words we want to use shoot up of themselves -
we get a new song.
~ Orpingalik
Inuit poet and shaman
every time
Let people realize clearly
that every time they threaten someone
or humiliate or unnecessarily
hurt or dominate or reject
another human being,
they become forces for
the creation of psychopathology,
even if these be small forces.
Let them recognize that every person
who is kind, helpful, decent,
psychologically democratic,
affectionate, and warm,
is a psychotheraputic force.
~ Abraham H. Maslow
Two Look at Two
.
Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountainside
With night so near, but not much further up.
They muct have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of the path back, how rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness;
When they were halted by a tumbled wall
With barbed-wire binding. They stood facing this,
Spending what onward impulse they still had
In one last look the way they must not go,
On up the failing path, where, if a stone
Or earthslide moved at night, it moved itself;
No footstep moved it. "This is all," they sighed,
"Good-night to woods." But not so; there was more.
A doe from round a spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
She saw them in their field, they her in hers.
The difficulty of seeing what stood still,
Like some up-ended boulder split in tow,
Was in her clouded eyes: they saw no fear there.
She sighed and passed unscared along the wall.
"This, then is all. What more is there to ask?"
But no, not yet. A snort to bid them wait.
A buck from round the spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
This was an antlered buck of lusty nostril,
Not the same doe come back into her place.
He viewed them quizzically with jerks of head,
As if to ask, "Why don't you make some motion?
Or give some sign of life? Because you can't.
I doubt if you're living as you look."
Thus till he had them almost feeling dared
To stretch a proffering hand-and a spell-breaking.
Then he too passed uncsared along the wall.
Two had seen two, whichever side you spoke from.
"This must be all." It was all. Still they stood,
A great wave from it going over them,
As if the earth in one unlooked-for favor
Had made them certain earth returned their love.
.
~ Robert Frost
.
A little further up the mountainside
With night so near, but not much further up.
They muct have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of the path back, how rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness;
When they were halted by a tumbled wall
With barbed-wire binding. They stood facing this,
Spending what onward impulse they still had
In one last look the way they must not go,
On up the failing path, where, if a stone
Or earthslide moved at night, it moved itself;
No footstep moved it. "This is all," they sighed,
"Good-night to woods." But not so; there was more.
A doe from round a spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
She saw them in their field, they her in hers.
The difficulty of seeing what stood still,
Like some up-ended boulder split in tow,
Was in her clouded eyes: they saw no fear there.
She sighed and passed unscared along the wall.
"This, then is all. What more is there to ask?"
But no, not yet. A snort to bid them wait.
A buck from round the spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
This was an antlered buck of lusty nostril,
Not the same doe come back into her place.
He viewed them quizzically with jerks of head,
As if to ask, "Why don't you make some motion?
Or give some sign of life? Because you can't.
I doubt if you're living as you look."
Thus till he had them almost feeling dared
To stretch a proffering hand-and a spell-breaking.
Then he too passed uncsared along the wall.
Two had seen two, whichever side you spoke from.
"This must be all." It was all. Still they stood,
A great wave from it going over them,
As if the earth in one unlooked-for favor
Had made them certain earth returned their love.
.
~ Robert Frost
.
Saturday, April 3, 2021
toward me
Existence leans its mouth
toward me,
because my love
cares for
it.
toward me,
because my love
cares for
it.
~ Meister Eckhart
art by Coleen-Joy Page
see no stranger
See no stranger has become a practice that defines my relationships. . . .
Seeing no stranger begins in wonder.
It is to look upon the face of anyone and choose to say:
You are a part of me I do not yet know.
Wonder is the wellspring for love.
Who we wonder about determines whose stories we hear
and whose joy and pain we share. Those we grieve with,
those we sit with and weep with, are ultimately those we organize
with and advocate for.
When a critical mass of people come together to wonder about one another,
grieve with one another, and fight with and for one another, we begin to build
the solidarity needed for collective liberation and transformation
—a solidarity rooted in love. . . .
Out in the world, I notice the unconscious biases that arise in me
Out in the world, I notice the unconscious biases that arise in me
when I look at faces on the street or in the news.
To practice seeing each of them as a sister or brother or family member,
I say in my mind: You are a part of me I do not yet know.
Through conscious repetition, I am practicing orienting to the world
with wonder and preparing myself for the possibility of connection.
(Sometimes I do this with animals and the earth, too!)
It opens me up to pay attention to their story. When their story is painful,
I make excuses to turn back—“It’s too overwhelming” or “It’s not my place”
—but I hold the compass and remember that all I need to do is be present
to their pain and find a way to grieve with them.
If I can sit with their pain, I begin to ask:
What do they need?
What do they need?
~ Valarie Kaur
Australian aboriginal art
Wednesday, March 31, 2021
love and compassion
.
.
We can reject everything else: religion, ideology, all received
wisdom. But we cannot escape the necessity of love and compassion....
This, then, is my true religion, my simple faith. In this sense, there is no need
for temple or church, for mosque or synagogue, no need for complicated
philosophy, doctrine or dogma. Our own heart, our own mind, is the temple.
The doctrine is compassion.
Love for others and respect for their rights and
dignity, no matter who or what they are: ultimately these are all we need.
So long as we practice these in our daily lives, then no matter if we are
learned or unlearned, whether we believe in Buddha or God, or follow some
other religion or none at all, as long as we have compassion for others and
conduct ourselves with restraint out of a sense of responsibility, there is
no doubt we will be happy.
~ Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama
.
deepest root of compassion
Bearing the unbearable is the deepest root of compassion in the world.
When you bear what you think you cannot bear,
who you think you are dies.
You become compassion.
You don't have compassion - you are compassion.
True compassion goes beyond empathy
to being with the experience of another.
You become an instrument of compassion.
~ Ram Dass
art by Susan Cohen Thompson
Monday, March 29, 2021
scapegoating?
The word “scapegoating”
originated from an ingenious ritual described in Leviticus 16.
According to Jewish law, on the Day of Atonement,
the high priest laid hands on an “escaping” goat,
placing all the sins of the Jewish people from the previous year onto the animal.
Then the goat was beaten with reeds and thorns,
driven out into the desert, and the people went home rejoicing.
Violence towards the innocent victim was apparently quite effective
at temporarily relieving the group’s guilt and shame.
The same scapegoating dynamic was at play when European Christians
burned supposed heretics at the stake, and when white Americans
lynched Black Americans. In fact, the pattern is identical
and totally non-rational.
Whenever the “sinner” is excluded, our collective
Whenever the “sinner” is excluded, our collective
ego is delighted and feels relieved and safe.
It works, but only for a while, because it is merely an illusion.
Repeatedly believing the lie, that this time we have the true culprit,
we become more catatonic, habitually ignorant, and culpable
—because, of course, scapegoating never really eliminates evil in the first place.
As Russian philosopher Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn wrote,
“If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds,
and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them.
But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.
” As long as the evil is “over there,” we can change or expel
someone else as the contaminating element.
We then feel purified and at peace.
...we think our own violence is necessary and even good.
But there is no such thing as redemptive violence.
Violence doesn’t save;
it only destroys all parties in both the short and long term.
~ Richard Rohr
adapted from CONSPIRE 2016: Everything Belongs
Saturday, March 27, 2021
annals of T'AI CHI: "Push Hands"
In this long routine "Push Hands,"
one recognizes force and yields, then
slides, again, again, endless like water,
what goes away, what follows, aggressive
courtesy till force must always lose,
lost in the seethe and retreat of the ocean.
So does the sail fill, and air come
just so, because of what's gone, "Yes"
in all things, "Yes, come in if you
insist," and thus conducted find a way
out, yin following and becoming
by a beautiful absence it's partner yang.
~ William Stafford
from Poetry, Sept. 1992
Sunday, March 21, 2021
choices
What we ordinarily mean by choice is not freedom.
Choices are usually decisions motivated by pleasure and pain,
and the divided mind acts with the sole purpose
of getting “I” into pleasure and out of pain.
But the best pleasures are those for which we do not plan,
and the worst part of pain is expecting it
and trying to get away from it when it has come.
when I try to act and decide in order to be happy,
when I make “being pleased” my future goal.
For the more my actions
are directed towards future pleasures,
the more I am incapable
of enjoying any pleasures at all.
For all pleasures are present,
and nothing save complete awareness of the present
can even begin to guarantee future happiness.
It seems that if I am afraid, then I am “stuck” with fear.
But in fact I am chained to the fear only so long as I am trying to get away from it.
On the other hand, when I do not try to get away I discover
that there is nothing “stuck” or fixed about the reality of the moment.
When I am aware of this feeling without naming it, without calling it “fear,”
“bad,” “negative,” etc., it changes instantly into something else,
and life moves freely ahead. The feeling no longer perpetuates itself...
The further truth that the undivided mind is aware of experience as a unity,
of the world as itself, and that the whole nature of mind and awareness
is to be one with what it knows, suggests a state that would usually be called love…
Love is the organizing and unifying principle which makes the world a universe
and the disintegrated mass a community. It is the very essence and character
of mind, and becomes manifest in action when the mind is whole…
This, rather than any mere emotion,
is the power and principle of free action.
~ Alan Watts
from The Wisdom of Insecurity
art by Van Gogh
with thanks to brainpickings
outside the court of religious and civic opinion
The greatest prophet of the Jewish tradition, Moses,
had the prescience and courage to move the place of hearing God outside
and at a distance from the court of common religious and civic opinion—
this was the original genius that inspired the entire Jewish prophetic tradition.
It is quite different than mere liberal and conservative positions,
and often even at odds with them.
Prophecy and Gospel are rooted in a contemplative
and non-dual way of knowing—
a way of being in the world that is utterly free
and grounded in the compassion of God.
how we might maintain that same sense of prophetic freedom
how we might maintain that same sense of prophetic freedom
outside the contemporary political and religious “encampments” of our day.
For those of us who are sincerely and devotedly trying to camp elsewhere
than in any political party or religious denomination,
we know full well that we must now avoid the temptation
to become our own defended camp.
it means that we can
it means that we can
“safeguard that little piece of You, God, in ourselves”
as Etty Hillesum describes it.
~ Richard Rohr
excerpt from his Daily Meditation
photo by Dorothea Lange
Thursday, March 18, 2021
the music that is always there
When I used to wake with night sweats my mind would spin in endless loops of anxiety,
going over little irresolvable problems, like a miser counting pennies, unable to stop, to sleep.
Even when I told myself there was truly nothing to worry about, and believed it,
still, the wild worries persisted. The ghosts of these attacks haunted me for years.
Sometimes it's okay.
Sometimes it's okay.
Sometimes it's not one desperate act after another.
Sometimes we hear the music that is always there. As the old Irish homily goes:
"The most beautiful music is the music of what happens."
It is not necessary to run to a remote, quiet place to hear it.
Sometimes we hear the music that is always there. As the old Irish homily goes:
"The most beautiful music is the music of what happens."
It is not necessary to run to a remote, quiet place to hear it.
It is here already, always.
The essence of eternity is how we experience the present.
The witnesses are here in ourselves.
The fullness of our inheritance denies nothing.
The ravaged road goes on and on
in both directions.
Who can I ask to buy the bones?
Snow settles on hemlock and Yew.
This is enough.
To the end of my days
Without end amen.
~ Terrance Keenan
from Zen Encounters with Loneliness
The essence of eternity is how we experience the present.
The witnesses are here in ourselves.
The fullness of our inheritance denies nothing.
The ravaged road goes on and on
in both directions.
Who can I ask to buy the bones?
Snow settles on hemlock and Yew.
This is enough.
To the end of my days
Without end amen.
~ Terrance Keenan
from Zen Encounters with Loneliness
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