Sunday, August 27, 2023

cello

 
 
 

 
 
It rests inside its close-fitting red-velvet-lined case
the way medieval monks slept inside their coffins.
But it doesn't  meditate on death; it has already died,
and barely remembers sunlight, water, the wind among the branches.
It lies there in the dark, feeling all through its graceful curves
the memory of a hundred years of music,
and sometimes dreaming of heaven: the Bach suites.
 
Taken out to be played, it knows that by itself it is nothing,
that it would be incapable of producing a single note
even if it were a Stradivarius.
So it gladly assents to having its strings tightened,
painful though this is; it wants to be perfectly in tune,
stretched to its utmost but not straining.
When it feels ready, it leans back and waits
for the bow to be drawn across,
for the resonance to fill it completely.
 
 
 
 
 
 ~ Stephen Mitchell
from Parables and Portraits
 
 
 
 

no longer sure

 
 
 
 




It has come to this: I'm sitting under a tree
beside a river
on a sunny morning.
It's an insignificant event
and won't go down in history.
It's not battles and pacts,
where motives are scrutinized,
or noteworthy tyrannicides.

And yet I'm sitting by this river, that's a fact.
And since I'm here
I must have come from somewhere,
and before that
I must have turned up in many other places,
exactly like the conquerors of nations
before setting sail.

Even a passing moment has its fertile past,
its Friday before Saturday,
its May before June.
Its horizons are no less real
than those that a marshal's field glasses might scan.

This tree is a poplar that's been rooted here for years.
The river is the Raba; it didn't spring up yesterday.
The path leading through the bushes
wasn't beaten last week.
The wind had to blow the clouds here
before it could blow them away.

And though nothing much is going on nearby,
the world is no poorer in details for that.
It's just as grounded, just as definite
as when migrating races held it captive.

Conspiracies aren't the only things shrouded in silence.
Retinues of reasons don't trail coronations alone.
Anniversaries of revolutions may roll around,
but so do oval pebbles encircling the bay.

The tapestry of circumstance is intricate and dense.
Ants stitching in the grass.
The grass sewn into the ground.
The pattern of a wave being needled by a twig.

So it happens that I am and look.
Above me a white butterfly is fluttering through the air
on wings that are its alone,
and a shadow skims through my hands
that is none other than itself, no one else's but its own.

When I see such things, I'm no longer sure
that what's important
is more important than what's not.




~  Wislawa Szymborska
S. Baranczak and C. Cavanagh translation 

 
 
 
 

slip beyond





...love impels people to service.  If love starts with a downward motion,
 burrowing into the vulnerability of self, exposing nakedness, 
it ends with an active upward motion.  It arouses great energy 
and desire to serve.  The person in love is buying little presents, 
fetching the glass from the next room, bringing a tissue when there's flu,
 driving through traffic to pick the beloved up at the airport.
 Love is waking up night after night to breastfeed, living year after year to nurture.
  It is risking and sacrificing your life for your buddy's in a battle. 
 Love ennobles and transforms. 
 In no other state do people so often live as we want them to live. 
 In no other commitment are people so likely to slip beyond the logic
 of self-interest and unconditional commitments
 that manifest themselves in daily acts of care.

Occasionally you meet someone with a thousand-year heart. 
 The person with the thousand-year heart has made the most of the passionate,
 tumultuous phase of love. Those months or years of passion have engraved 
a deep commitment in their mind.  The person or thing they once loved hotly
 they now love warmly but steadily, happily, unshakably.  
They don't even think of loving their beloved because they want something back...
 They just naturally offer love as a matter of course
 It is gift-love, not reciprocity-love.



~ David Brooks
from The Road to Character



now is the time








Now is the time to free the heart,
Let all intentions and worries stop,
Free the joy inside the self,
Awaken to the wonder of your life.

Open your eyes and see the friends
Whose hearts recognize your face as kin,
Those whose kindness watchful and near,
Encourages you to live everything here.

See the gifts the years have given,
Things your effort could never earn,
The health to enjoy who you want to be
And the mind to mirror mystery.



~ John O'Donohue
from To Bless the Space Between Us


Households, cities, countries, and nations have enjoyed great happiness
 when a single individual has taken heed of the Good and Beautiful. . . .
 Such people not only liberate themselves;
 they fill those they meet with a free mind. 

~  Philo

Tuesday, August 1, 2023

in this passing moment

 
 
 
 
 


 
 
  may my path
  benefit everyone!
 
I vow to choose what is:
If there is cost, I choose to pay.
If there is need, I choose to give.
If there is pain, I choose to feel.
If there is sorrow, I choose to grieve.
When burning -- I choose heat.
When calm -- I choose peace.
When starving -- I choose hunger.
When happy -- I choose joy.
Whom I encounter, I choose to meet.
What I shoulder, I choose to bear.
When it is my death, I choose to die.
Where this takes me, I choose to go.
Being with what is -- I respond to what is.



~ Hogen Bays
excerpts from  The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World
 (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) 
Edited by Ivan M. Granger 
 
Hogen Bays and his wife, Jan Chozen Bays, are the co-abbots
 of Great Vow Monastery in Oregon as well as being the spiritual directors
 and primary teachers with the Zen Community of Oregon.
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Saturday, July 29, 2023

natural compassion through meditation

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
Sitting practice makes you more aware; it sensitizes you to the little nicks and bruises
 that the heart is subject to. Hurtful things you used to say and do, 
painful things said and done to you that you formerly brushed off or hardly noticed, 
you now see as painful. It pains you to say, even to think, hurtful things,
 and you notice even more—though you probably noticed before—
when such things are said or done to you. The more you are familiar with all this
 in your own mind, the twists and turns of which increasingly come into view 
as you go on practicing, the more it dawns on you that others are like this too. 
 
You see you are not unique—there’s a human pattern here.
The human mind is a swirl of activity mostly centered around self-preservation 
and self-justification (which can, oddly, sometimes take the form of self-recrimination)
 and all sorts of scheming to get one’s own way. After some initial dismay, 
you realize this is normal. You are a mess, and so is everyone else. And when you don’t
 take the mess into account, when you insist on pretending that it doesn’t exist, 
that it is reasonable to take all the hurts and slights and confusion seriously
 and thrash around in them—you make things much worse. But appreciate the mess,
 know that it is a shared mess, and even have a sense of humor about it, 
and you can be much more forgiving and generous with yourself and others.
 So naturally, your thoughts, words, and deeds in relation to others 
will be more relaxed, generous, and kind.

Morality is more about others than it is about you. 
Mostly, the sphere of ethical conduct has to do with how you interact with others. 
Some people think that meditation makes an already self-concerned person hyper self-aware,
 thereby increasing causes for worry and upset. There might be some truth to this.
 But, mostly, meditation practice has the opposite effect: it makes much more vivid
 the feeling that you are living in a world with other people whose lives, hearts, needs, 
and pains matter as much as yours do. Meditation increases empathy.
 It makes you quite loath to hurt anyone—you see that hurting someone is the same
 as hurting yourself. In fact it is worse. You would rather hurt yourself than hurt someone else.
 If you hurt yourself, you can deal with it, somehow. But if you hurt someone else,
 you can’t necessarily help them deal with it. They are stuck with the effects of what
 you have done to them. And so are you. You have to live with it. 
Morality comes out of this sensitivity and empathy. Kindness toward others
and one’s self is what morality is fundamentally about. Not a set of rules.
 
The Buddhist precepts offer a different approach to conduct that creates suffering
for ourselves and others.  More of a helpful guide to happiness, they are offered
as behaviors that stated as negatives create problems and as positives lead to happiness.
There is no sense of sinfulness or any thing like divine retribution, only actions that are
very practical to avoid or helpful to develop.
 
 
I vow to cherish life, not to kill.
I vow to accept gifts, not to steal.
I vow to respect others, not to misuse sexuality.
I vow to practice truthfulness, not to lie.
I vow to practice clarity, not to intoxicate mind or body
of self or others.
I vow to speak with kindness, not to slander.
I vow to practice modesty, not to praise self at the expense of others.
I vow to practice generosity, not to be possessive of anything.
I vow to practice love, not to harbor ill will.



~ Norman Fischer
excerpts from Compassion without Calculation
with thanks to Lions Roar







Friday, July 21, 2023

I had learned to reduce myself to zero

 
 
 
 
 

 
 
"It was only when I had learned to reduce myself to zero," Gandhi
says, "that I was able to evolve the power of satyagraha in South Africa." 
 
Satyagraha - Literally "holding on to truth" - is the name he coined for
this method of fighting without violence or retaliation.
 
 Gandhi had a genius for making abstruse ideas practical,
and one of the best examples comes when he explains the basis
 of satyagraha. In Sanskrit the word satya,  "truth," is derived from sat,
 "that which is." Truth is; untruth merely appears to be.
 
 Gandhi brought this out of the realm of doctoral
 dissertations and into the middle of politics.  It means, he said, that evil
is real only insofar as we support it. The essence of holding on to truth
is to withdraw support of what is wrong. If enough people do this - if,
he maintained, even one person does it from a great enough depth -evil
has to collapse from lack of support.
 
Gandhi was never theoretical. He learned by doing. Satyagraha 
continued to be refined in action all his life; he was experimenting up to the
 day he was assassinated. But the essentials are present from the very
 beginning in South Africa.

First is the heartfelt conviction that a wrong situation wrongs both sides. 
 
Europeans and Indians alike were degraded by race prejudice; a
lasting solution, therefore, had to relieve this burden for all involved. In
spiritual terms this follows from the unity of life, which is what Gandhi's
"truth" means in practice. But it is also profoundly practical, because only
a solution for everyone can actually resolve the problem and move the
situation forward. 
 
More than just both sides "winning," everyone is a
 little nobler, a little more human, for the outcome.





~ Eknath Easwaran
from Gandhi The Man  


 
 

Wednesday, July 19, 2023

how one man changed himself to change the world

 
 
 
 

 
 
 In these verses from the Bhagavad Gita, which is set on a battlefield 
representing the human heart, a warrior prince named Arjuna,
who represents you and me, asks Sri Krishna, the Lord within, how
one can recognize a person who is aware or God in each moment
or his life. 

The reply is:
 
They live in wisdom who see themselves in all and all in them,
whose love for the Lord of Love has consumed every selfish desire
and sense craving tormenting the heart. Not agitated by grief or
hankering after pleasure, they live free from lust and fear and anger.
Fettered no more by selfish attachments, they are not elated by good
fortune nor depressed by bad.  
 
Key words in the life of Mahatma Gandhi. 




~ from Gandhi the Man:
How one man changed himself to change the world
by Eknath Easwaran
 
 
 
 

Sunday, July 16, 2023

pain - healing - integration

 
 
 
 

 ~ Joseph Goldstein



Tuesday, July 11, 2023

grateful

 
 


 

They arrive inside
They object at evening.
There’s no one to meet them.

The lamps they carry
Cast their shadows
Back into themselves.

They make notations:
The sky and the earth
Are of the same impenetrable color.
There’s no wind. If there are rivers,
They must be beneath the ground.
Of the marvels we sought, no trace.
Of the native girls, nothing.

There’s not even dust, so we must conclude
That someone passed recently
With a broom...

As they write, the tiny universe
Stitches its black thread into them.

Eventually nothing is left
Except a faint voice
Which might belong
Either to one of them
Or to someone who came before.

It says: I’m grateful
That you’ve finally come.
It was beginning to get lonely.
I recognize you. You are all
That has eluded me.

May this be my country.
 
 
 
 
~ Charles Simic
Explorers
 
 
 
 

inside

 
 
 
 

 

Go inside a stone
That would be my way.
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger’s tooth.
I am happy to be a stone.

From the outside the stone is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool and quiet
Even though a cow steps on it full weight,
Even though a child throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.

I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a hill—
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the star-charts
On the inner walls. 




~ Charles Simic
 
 
 
 

Monday, July 10, 2023

the clear deep source

 
 
 

 
 
 
To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns,
 to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects,
 to want to help everyone with everything is to succumb to violence.
 
 The frenzy of the activist neutralizes his work for peace.
 It destroys the fruitfulness of his own work, 
because it kills the root of inner wisdom
 which makes work fruitful.
 
 
The time for contemplation is the spring that feeds our action, 
and our action will be as deep as the spring. 
We need time to allow the spirit to clear the obstacles 
– the clinging debris and mud – 
that keeps the spring from flowing freely from its clear, 
deep source. And we need time for the spring to 
overflow into insightful and compassionate action.


 
 
 
 
- Thomas Merton
from The Violence Of Modern Life
with thanks to Heron Dance Art Journal



Sunday, July 9, 2023

everyone is so stressed











We wonder why everyone is so stressed. But many of us would
not know who we are without conflict...


Democrat against Republican, socialist against capitalist,
woman vs man, black vs white, vegan vs omnivore,
the enlightened vs the ignorant...


Maybe the answer is never one side vs the other. Maybe we could
rest the [conflicted] mind in the Heart. Maybe we could all go meet
in Rumi's field, under the stars, beyond the ideas of right and wrong.
How can we get there?
Listen to the Silence. 






~ Fred LaMotte
 
 
 

wonder and unity

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
Wonder is where it starts, and though wonder is also where it ends,
 this is no futile path. Whether admiring a patch of moss, a crystal,
 flower, or golden beetle, a sky full of clouds, a sea with the serene,
 vast sigh of its swells, or a butterfly wing with its arrangement of crystalline ribs,
 contours, and the vibrant bezel of its edges, the diverse scripts and ornamentations 
of its markings, and the infinite, sweet, delightfully inspired transitions
 and shadings of its colors — whenever I experience part of nature,
 whether with my eyes or another of the five senses, whenever I feel drawn in,
 enchanted, opening myself momentarily to its existence and epiphanies,
 that very moment allows me to forget the avaricious, blind world of human need,
 and rather than thinking or issuing orders, rather than acquiring or exploiting,
 fighting or organizing, all I do in that moment is “wonder,” like Goethe, 
and not only does this wonderment establish my brotherhood with him,
 other poets, and sages, it also makes me a brother to those wondrous things
 I behold and experience as the living world: butterflies and moths, beetles,
 clouds, rivers and mountains, because while wandering down the path of wonder,
 I briefly escape the world of separation and enter the world of unity.

Our universities fail to guide us down the easiest paths to wisdom… 
Rather than teaching a sense of awe, they teach the very opposite: 
counting and measuring over delight, sobriety over enchantment, 
a rigid hold on scattered individual parts over an affinity for the unified and whole. 
These are not schools of wisdom, after all, but schools of knowledge,
 though they take for granted that which they cannot teach — 
the capacity for experience, the capacity for being moved,
 the Goethean sense of wonderment.
 
 
 
 
 
~ Hermann Hesse
from  Butterflies: Reflections, Tales, and Verse
with thanks to the marginalian





 

Saturday, July 1, 2023

a few words on the soul

 
 
 
 
 
 
We have a soul at times.
No one's got it nonstop,
for keeps.
 
Day after day,
year after year
may pass without it.
 
Sometimes 
it will settle for a while
only in childhood's fears and raptures.
Sometimes only in astonishment
that we are old.
 
It rarely lends a hand
in uphill tasks,
like moving furniture,
or lifting luggage,
or going miles in shoes that pinch.
 
It usually steps out
 whenever meat needs chopping
or forms have to be filled.
 
For every thousand conversations
it participates in one,
if even that,
since it prefers silence. 
 
Just when our body goes from ache to pain
it slips off duty.
 
It's picky:
it doesn't like seeing us in crowds,
our hustling for a dubious advantage
and creaky machinations make it sick.
 
Joy and sorrow
aren't two different feelings for it.
It attends us
only when the two are joined.
 
We can count on it
when we're sure of nothing
and curious about everything.
 
Among the material objects
it favors clocks with pendulums
and mirrors, which keep on working
even when no one is looking.
 
It won't say where it comes from
or when it's taking off again,
though it's clearly expecting such questions.
 
We need it
but apparently 
it needs us
for some reason too.
 
 
 
 
~ Wislawa Szymborska
from Monologue of a Dog