the making of sand

 

Empty pages

Flap in the wind

In the sovereign silence

There is no history

There is only the cracking

And polishing of stones

by the sun

You see the making of sand

Is a long business

Shaped and re shaped

By surrender

 ~ Ayaz Angus Landman

from The Holy Algorithm

with thanks to Poetry Chaikhana Blog

Photo by Eliot Porter

a train of discontinuous fragments

 

"But I don’t want to go among mad people," 

Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can’t help that," said the Cat: 

"we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad."

"How do you know I’m mad?" said Alice.

"You must be," said the Cat, 

"or you wouldn’t have come here.”

~ Lewis Carrol

from Alice in Wonderland

In listening to my patients tell me thousands of stories, 

as they try to find some peace in the present, 

I have learned this beyond the shadow of a doubt. 

 Rather than behaving sanely, rather than being in touch with our present realities, 

we human beings - all of us, myself included - 

are too often simply run by losses and hardships long gone by,

 and by our stockpiled fears.  

 

Our collective history, our individual lives, our very minds, 

bear unmistakable testimony.

Instead of receding harmlessly into the past, the darkest,

 most frightening events from our childhood and adolescence gain power 

and authority as we grow older.  The memory of such events 

causes us to depart from ourselves, psychologically speaking,

 or to separate one part of our awareness from the others.  

 

What we conceive of as an unbroken thread of consciousness is, 

instead, quite often a train of discontinuous fragments.  

Our awareness is divided.  

And much more commonly that we know, 

even our personalities are fragmented - 

disorganized team efforts trying to cope with the past -

 rather than the sane, unified wholes 

we anticipate in ourselves and in other people...



~ Martha Stout
from The Myth of Sanity, 

Divided Consciousness and the Promise of Awareness

seeing through the "I" concept

 

After a summer storm, the sunlight comes out and we see a rainbow in the sky.
And generally, we feel happy at seeing a rainbow. It's a beautiful object of sight.
But the question is, is there a thing in itself which is the rainbow?
When we look more carefully, we see that what we're calling a rainbow
is the coming together of certain conditions of light and moisture and air.
And when these conditions come together in a certain way,
there's an appearance of a rainbow, but there's no thing in itself
which is the rainbow other than the appearance
arising out of these conditions.

Self is like a rainbow. There is an appearance of Bob, of Joseph,
of each one of us. There's an appearance which comes together,
which appears because of the conditions of all our mental, physical phenomena
coming together in a certain pattern. And we recognize the pattern.
We call it Bob, Joseph, rainbow. And on a relative level, we are experiencing it.
When we see a rainbow, we are responding to something.
On a relative level, we can say rainbow exists, but on a more ultimate level,
we see that there's no essential substratum which is rainbow.

There's no essence.

One Vipassana teacher really expressed this beautifully. Somebody asked him,
"Is the self real?" And he said, "Yes, the self is real. But not really real."
That captures these two levels. It is real on the relative level,
and we interact on this level, it's the level of our conventional reality.
We're not dismissing that. But we just see that on a deeper level,
there's another whole way of perceiving things.

Let me give you one more example.

You go out at night and, if it's a clear night and the stars are out,
most people can recognize the constellation of the Big Dipper.
The question then is, is there really a Big Dipper up there? …


Big Dipper is a concept which we're overlaying on a certain pattern of stars,
but there's no Big Dipper.

So, self is like Big Dipper. The notion of self is a concept,
just like Big Dipper is a concept, and we're overlaying that concept of self
onto this pattern of mental, physical, emotional content.
We're putting a name, we're giving a designation
of Joseph, Bob, Big Dipper.

But what's interesting is that, even though we know Big Dipper is a concept
and there's no Big Dipper in the sky, to go out at night, look up at the sky
and see if it's possible not to see the Big Dipper—
it’s very difficult, because we've been so conditioned to see
in a certain way.

It's helpful to realize that the concept of Big Dipper can be useful,
just like the concept of self can be useful. One of the stars of Big Dipper
actually points to the North star. If you're out in the middle of the ocean
and you want to navigate, you need to find the north,
the concept can be helpful.

We're not suggesting—either with Big Dipper or self—to get rid of the concept,
but to understand that that's what it is. ...

When we see that Big Dipper is a concept, even though we use it,
what happens is when we look up at the sky, we see the sky undivided.
It's possible to see all the stars as part of a unity.
Imagine what it would be like if we could experience the whole world
not bound or limited by the concept of the self.
We need to use it to operate on the relative level,
but if we have a deeper wisdom that it is just a concept,
then so many aspects of our separateness falls away.



~ Joseph Goldstein
from Mindfulness Interviews
by Robert Wright

advice from me to myself

 

Listen up, old bad-karma Patrul,
You dweller-in-distraction.

For ages now you've been
Beguiled, entranced, and fooled by appearances.

Are you aware of that? Are you?

Right this very instant, when you're
Under the spell of mistaken perception
You've got to watch out.
Don't let yourself get carried away by this fake
and empty life.

Your mind is spinning around
About carrying out a lot of useless projects:
It's a waste! Give it up!

Thinking about the hundred plans you want to accomplish,
With never enough time to finish them,
Just weighs down your mind.
You're completely distracted
By all these projects, which never come to an end,
But keep spreading out more, like ripples in water.
Don't be a fool: for once, just sit tight.

Listening to the teachings — you've already
heard hundreds of teachings,
But when you haven't grasped the meaning of even
one teaching,
What's the point of more listening?

Reflecting on the teachings — even though you've listened,
If the teachings aren't coming to mind when needed,
What's the point of more reflection? None.

Meditating according to the teachings —
If your meditation practice still isn't curing
The obscuring states of mind—forget about it!

You've added up just how many mantras you've done —
But you aren't accomplishing the kyerim visualization.
You may get the forms of deities nice and clear —
But you're not putting an end to subject and object.
You may tame what appear to be evil spirits and ghosts,
But you're not training the stream of your own mind.

Your four fine sessions of sadhana practice,
So meticulously arranged —
Forget about them.

When you're in a good mood,
Your practice seems to have lots of clarity —
But you just can't relax into it.
When you're depressed,
Your practice is stable enough
But there's no brilliance to it.
As for awareness,
You try to force yourself into a rigpa-like state,
As if stabbing a stake into a target!

When those yogic positions and gazes keep your mind stable
Only by keeping mind tethered —
Forget about them!

Giving high-sounding lectures
Doesn't do your mind-stream any good.
The path of analytical reasoning is precise and acute —
But it's just more delusion, good for nothing goat-shit.
The oral instructions are very profound
But not if you don't put them into practice.

Reading over and over those dharma texts
That just occupy your mind and make your eyes sore —
Forget about it!

You beat your little damaru drum — ting, ting —
And your audience thinks it's charming to hear.
You're reciting words about offering up your body,
But you still haven't stopped holding it dear.
You're making your little cymbals go cling, cling —
Without keeping the ultimate purpose in mind.

All this dharma-practice equipment
That seems so attractive —
Forget about it!

Right now, those students are all studying so very hard,
But in the end, they can't keep it up.


Today, they seem to get the idea,
But later on, there's not a trace left.
Even if one of them manages to learn a little,
He rarely applies his "learning" to his own conduct.

Those elegant dharma disciplines —
Forget about them!

This year, he really cares about you,
Next year, it's not like that.
At first, he seems modest,
Then he grows exalted and pompous.
The more you nurture and cherish him,
The more distant he grows.

These dear friends
Who show such smiling faces to begin with —
Forget about them!

Her smile seems so full of joy —
But who knows if that's really the case?
One time, it's pure pleasure,
Then it's nine months of mental pain.
It might be fine for a month,
But sooner or later, there's trouble.

People teasing; your mind embroiled —
Your lady-friend —
Forget about her!

These endless rounds of conversation
Are just attachment and aversion —
It's just more goat-shit, good for nothing at all.
At the time it seems marvelously entertaining,
But really, you're just spreading around stories
about other people's mistakes.
Your audience seems to be listening politely,
But then they grow embarrassed for you.

Useless talk that just make you thirsty —
Forget about it!

Giving teachings on meditation texts
Without yourself having
Gained actual experience through practice,
Is like reciting a dance-manual out loud
And thinking that's the same as actually dancing.

People may be listening to you with devotion,
But it just isn't the real thing.

Sooner or later, when your own actions
Contradict the teachings, you'll feel ashamed.


Just mouthing the words,
Giving dharma explanations that sound so eloquent—
Forget about it!

When you don't have a text, you long for it;
Then when you've finally gotten it,
you hardly look at it.

The number of pages seems few enough,
But it's a bit hard to find time to copy them all.
Even if you copied down all the dharma texts on earth,
You wouldn't be satisfied.

Copying down texts is a waste of time
(Unless you get paid) —
So forget about it!

Today, they're happy as clams —
Tomorrow, they're furious.
With all their black moods and white moods,
People are never satisfied.
Or even if they're nice enough,
They may not come through when you really need them,
Disappointing you even more.

All this politeness, keeping up a
Courteous demeanor —
Forget about it!

Worldly and religious work
Is the province of gentlemen.
Patrul, old boy — that's not for you.

Haven't you noticed what always happens?
An old bull, once you've gone to the trouble of
borrowing him for his services,
Seems to have absolutely no desire left in him at all—
(Except to go back to sleep).

Be like that — desireless.


Just sleep, eat, piss, shit.
There's nothing else in life that has to be done.

Don't get involved with other things:
They're not the point.

Keep a low profile,
Sleep.

In the triple universe
When you're lower than your company
You should take the low seat.

Should you happen to be the superior one,
Don't get arrogant.

There's no absolute need to have close friends;
You're better off just keeping to yourself.

When you're without any worldly
or religious obligations,
Don't keep on longing to acquire some!

If you let go of everything —
Everything, everything —
That's the real point!



This advice was written by the practitioner Patrul Rinpoche for his intimate friend

 Patrul Rinpoche, in order to give advice that is tailored exactly to his capacities.

This advice should be put into practice!

Even though you don't know how to practice, 

just let go of everything —

 that's what I really want to say. 

Even though you aren't able to succeed in your 

dharma practice, don't get angry.

May it be virtuous.






— Patrul Rinpoche (1808-1887)
from Advice from Me to Myself

A wandering turn-of-the-century Dzogchen master of Eastern Tibet,
beloved by the people. He was renowned as the enlightened vagabond.
Translation by Constance Wilkinson

the world cleanses itself this way

There are more like us. All over the world

There are confused people, who can't remember

The name of their dog when they wake up, and people

Who love God but can't remember where

He was when they went to sleep. It's

All right. The world cleanses itself this way.

A wrong number occurs to you in the middle

Of the night, you dial it, it rings just in time

To save the house. And the second-story man

Gets the wrong address, where the insomniac lives,

And he's lonely, and they talk, and the thief

Goes back to college. Even in graduate school,

You can wander into the wrong classroom,

And hear great poems lovingly spoken 

By the wrong professor. And you find your soul,

And greatness has a defender, and even in death you're safe.

~ Robert Bly

from Morning Poems

self-portrait as subordinate clause

 

and when 

the larkspur

petals fall and when

the fall begins to sing

and when the song weaves

through the loss and when

the loss dyes

everything, when

everything is

emptier and emptiness

is whole somehow, when

whole is what a life 

does, when life is

what is now, when

now is

ever changing

and changing knows

no end, when

any ending

I might seek is

just another

when

~ Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

from All The Honey

in morning

 

The Palestinian child

does not think about being Palestinian,

but only of how his kitten

slept last night

and why is it not

in its basket.

Before he walks to school,

he will find it playing

with neighbor kittens

outside his house

and make sure it has breakfast.

The Ukrainian child

checks her doll

in its crib

which is really a box

shoes once lived in

and tucks

the blanket

which is really a napkin

tighter.

The Libyan child

thought he lived in a desert,

so how could his house wash away,

the Moroccan child

never dreamed a building so old

with such fat walls

could fall,

the child of Maui

never wears socks

but someone has given him

socks.

He misses

his old messy room

which he would clean up right now

if he still had it.

Each morning

we put ourselves together.

Try to imagine

what we will do,

gathering things,

thoughts,

mysteries

no one explains.

Scary things

feel farther away

in morning.

We try not to worry.

Wash face

brush teeth,

be as good as possible

because the stones

lined up

by the grandfathers

are still somewhere

and the wind from the west

is still your friend

and the little gray bird

pecking at a crumb

said something

we almost understood.

~ Naomi Shihab Nye

with thanks to Ruth at 

 https://thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com

humility and curiosity in support a meaningful life

 

The first is humility. Humility amounts to an understanding 

that the world is not divided into good and bad people, 

but rather it is made up of all manner of individuals, 

each broken in their own way, each caught up in the common

 human struggle and each having the capacity to do both terrible

 and beautiful things. 

If we truly comprehend and acknowledge that we are all imperfect creatures, 

we find that we become more tolerant and accepting of others’ shortcomings

 and the world appears less dissonant, 

less isolating, less threatening.

The other quality is curiosity. If we look with curiosity at people

 who do not share our values, they become interesting rather than threatening. 

As I’ve grown older I’ve learnt that the world and the people in it

 are surprisingly interesting, and that the more you look and listen,

 the more interesting they become. Cultivating a questioning mind, 

of which conversation is the chief instrument, enriches our relationship

 with the world. Having a conversation with someone I may disagree

 with is, I have come to find, a great,

 life embracing pleasure.

~ Nick Cave

with thanks to The Marginalian 

by Maria Popova

close your eyes

 

Close your eyes.

Fall in love.

Stay there.

~ Rumi

Image: NASA/Chandra X-Ray Center

Once we dreamt that

we were strangers,

We wake up to find that

we were dear to

each other.

~ Tabindranath Tagore

This story began many years ago as two planets

journeyed from far distant regions to circle 

each other in the light and warmth of the sun.

In such company, 

fears fell away,

protective barriers disolved in the light.

Their essences were revealed in 

the flow of their magma. 

Each saw themselves within the living

core of the other.

What joy!

each of us must turn inward

 

 

 

Klaas, all I really wanted to say is this: we have so much work to do on ourselves

 that we shouldn’t even be thinking of hating our so-called enemies.

 We are hurtful enough to one another as it is.

 

 And I don’t really know what I mean when I say that there are bullies

 and bad characters among our own people, for no one is really “bad” deep down. 

I should have liked to reach out to that [bully] with all his fears, 

I should have liked to trace the source of his panic, 

to drive him ever deeper into himself, 

that is the only thing we can do, 

Klaas, in times like these.

And you, Klaas, give a tired and despondent wave and say, 

“But what you propose to do takes such a long time, 

and we don’t really have all that much time, do we?”

 And I reply, “What you want is something people have been trying to get

 for the last two thousand years, and for many more thousand years before that, 

in fact, ever since [humankind] has existed on earth.” 

 

“And what do you think the result has been, if I may ask?” you say.

And I repeat with the same old passion,

 although I am gradually beginning to think that I am being tiresome,

“It is the only thing we can do, Klaas, I see no alternative, 

each of us must turn inward and destroy in himself 

all that he thinks he ought to destroy in others. 

And remember that every atom of hate we add to this world

 makes it still more inhospitable.”

And you, Klaas, dogged old class fighter that you have always been,

 dismayed and astonished at the same time, say,

 “But that—that is nothing but Christianity!”

And I, amused by your confusion, retort quite coolly,

“Yes, Christianity, and why ever not?”

~ Etty Hillesum

from An Interrupted Life: The Diaries

 

 

 

 

 

the teachings of my blood pulsing within me

 

I have no right to call myself one who knows. 

I was one who seeks, and I still am,

 but I no longer seek in the stars or in books;

 I'm beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me.

 My story isn't pleasant, it's not sweet and harmonious 

like the invented stories; it tastes of folly and bewilderment,

 of madness and dream, like the life of all people 

who no longer want to lie to themselves.

~ Hermann Hesse

from Demian: The Story of Emil Sinclair's Youth

art by Van Gogh

with thanks to whiskey river

other desires are substitutes

A spirit that lives in this world

and does not wear the shirt of love,

such an existence is a deep disgrace.

Be foolishly in love,

because love is all there is.

There is no way into presence

except through a love exchange.

If someone asks, But what is love?

answer, Dissolving the will.

True freedom comes to those

who have escaped the questions

of freewill and fate.

Love is an emperor.

The two worlds play across him.

He barely notices their tumbling game.

Love and lover live in eternity.

Other desires are substitutes

for that way of being.

How long do you lay embracing a corpse?

Love rather the soul, which cannot be held.

Anything born in spring dies in the fall,

but love is not seasonal.

With wine pressed from grapes,

expect a hangover.

But this love path has no expectations.

You are uneasy riding the body?

Dismount. Travel lighter.

Wings will be given.

Be clear like a mirror

reflecting nothing.

Be clean of pictures and the worry

that comes with images.

Gaze into what is not ashamed

or afraid of any truth.

Contain all human faces in your own

without any judgment of them.

Be pure emptiness.

What is inside that? you ask.

Silence is all I can say.

Lovers have some secrets

That they keep.

~ Rumi
photo by Eliot Porter

struggle?

 

When you surrender, the problem ceases to exist. Try to solve it, or conquer it, 

and you only set up more resistance. I am very certain now that… 

if I truly become what I wish to be, the burden will fall away. 

The most difficult thing to admit, and to realize with one’s whole being, 

is that you alone control nothing. 

To be able to put yourself in tune or rhythm with the forces beyond, 

which are the truly operative ones, that is the task

 — and the solution, if we can speak of “solutions.”

One thing I don’t worry about… is what people think, 

how they misinterpret things. There’s nothing you can do about that… 

What amazes me more and more is how much people do understand 

when you give them the full dose, when you hold back nothing.

One has to permit people to become desperate, to become wholly lost, 

that only then are they ready for the right word, only then can they 

avail themselves of the truth. To withhold it then is a crime. 

But to nurse them along is a worse crime. And there is where much

 of the conflict centers, about that point. The human instinct to spare 

the other person his agony (which is his means of salvation, 

in any sense of the word) is a fallacious instinct. Here the subtle temptations, 

the vicious and insidious ones, because so confused and entangled, 

enter in. On this so-called human plane it is the ego which commands — 

often in the most amazing disguises. The temptation to be good, 

to do good, gets us all some time or other.

 It’s the last ruse, I feel, of the ego.

This clamor and agitation which I seem to create all about me, 

even from a distance, 

proceeds from me. 

I know it.

Have I not become more and more aware latterly that the things 

I deeply desire come without struggle? … 

All the struggle, then, is phantom play. 

The fighting with shadows. 

This I know.

~ Henry Miller

from A Literate Passion: 

Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller

with thanks to The Marginalian by Maria Popova

photo Henry Miller on his bike

Hokusai says

Hokusai says look carefully.
He says pay attention, notice.
He says keep looking, stay curious.
He says there is no end to seeing.

He says look forward to getting old.
He says keep changing,
you just get more who you really are.
He says get stuck, accept it, repeat yourself
as long as it’s interesting.

He says keep doing what you love.
He says keep praying.
He says every one of us is a child,

every one of us is ancient,
every one of us has a body.
He says every one of us is frightened.
He says every one of us has to find a way to live with fear.

He says everything is alive—
shells, buildings, people, fish, mountains, trees.
Wood is alive.
Water is alive.
Everything has its own life.
Everything lives inside us.
He says live with the world inside you.

He says it doesn’t matter if you draw, or write books.
It doesn’t matter if you saw wood, or catch fish.
It doesn’t matter if you sit at home
and stare at the ants on your verandah or the shadows of the trees
and grasses in your garden.

It matters that you care.
It matters that you feel.
It matters that you notice.
It matters that life lives through you.

Contentment is life living through you.
Joy is life living through you.
Satisfaction and strength
are life living through you.
Peace is life living through you.

He says don’t be afraid.
Don’t be afraid.
Look, feel, let life take you by the hand.
Let life live through you.

 

 

 

~ Roger Keyes

a single word

 

A single word can brighten the face

of one who knows the value of words.

Ripened in silence, a single word

acquires a great energy for work.

War is cut short by a word,

and a word heals the wounds,

and there's a word that changes

poison into butter and honey.

Let a word mature inside yourself.

Withhold the unripened thought.

Come and understand the kind of word

that reduces money and riches to dust.

Know when to speak a word

and when not to speak at all.

A single word turns the universe of hell

into eight paradises.

Follow the Way. Don't be fooled

by what you already know. Be watchful.

Reflect before you speak.

A foolish mouth can brand your soul.

Yunus, say one last thing

about the power of words --

Only the word "I"

divides me from God.

~ Yunus Emre

from The Drop That Became the Sea: 

Lyric Poems of Yunus Emre 

Translated by Kabir Helminski and Refik Algan

with thanks to Poetry Chaikhana