Wednesday, March 13, 2024

now






 
 
Young
We had not enough respect for the changing moon.
Then the days seemed to pass only to return again.
 
 
 
Now
Having learned by loss that men’s days part from them forever,
We eat and drink together beneath the full moon
Acknowledging and celebrating the power that bereft us
And yet sheds over the earth a light that is beautiful.
 
 
 
 

~ Wendell Berry
after the Painting and Poem by Shen Chou



about the relationship of consciousness to the mind

 







Consciousness is aware of the mind: 
The activities of the mind are always known by consciousness.
That mind is the object of knowledge and perception by the pure consciousness. 

Mind appears to have its own life solely because 
of the pure consciousnes which permeates it. 

The activities of the mind are always known by the pure consciousness,
 because that consciousness is superior to, 
support of, and master over the mind.

Mind is not self illuming because it is made of stuff
 (thoughts, emotions, memories etc.)
just like the photos are made of ink.

Mind is not, in itself, consciousness.
Rather, consciousness operates through the mind.

When the consciousness operates through the mind, 
it is also witness of the mind.

When consciousness is witnessing the mind, 
the mind is the object being witnessed. 
This is a key point here, so that this is not mere philosophy, 
but a practical part of the subtlest meditation processes. 

At some point, the mind itself is seen as an object of observation
 to be set aside with non-attachment, 
just like the many surface level thought patterns
 of daily life are set aside in other stages of meditation.

 Now, the instrument of thinking itself 
is being seen and transcended.




~ summerized from the
  Yoga Sutras of Patanjali 
as presented by
Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati
art genereated by AI



Monday, March 11, 2024

elders are bridges

 



In the old wisdom traditions, elders act as a living bridge between the visible, 
measurable world and the mostly unseen realms of spirit and soul. 
Although more in touch with timeless things, elders would not be out of touch
 with the conflicts and troubles of daily life. In times of great trouble,
 the elders could be seen to have one foot firmly on the ground of survival,
 and the other in the realm of great imagination.

As the modern world grows increasingly divided, the archetype 
of the elder becomes important as a source for imagining ways to bridge
 between unlike energies as well as opposing forces. No matter a person’s
 literal age, each soul is truly ancient; thus each person has the potential
 of awakening to the presence of the “inner elder” 
or the sage within the heart.

In a time when it has become common for the callings of youth
 to go unheard, the idea of trying to awaken the inner elder might seem,
 not just odd, but truly weird. Then again, the calling that comes to elders 
has always involved the strange adventure of finding a greater sense of life 
while facing the nearness of death. The word weird was originally spelled
 “wyrd” and had a primary sense of having a foot in each world
 and having a greater capacity to hold the tension
 of all the opposites together.

As used to be well known, old age alone cannot make the elder. 
For growing older can lead to a return to infantile attitudes 
and exaggerated feelings of neediness and fear. 
When it comes to waking the elder the qualities most needed involve 
more than physical change. There is something metaphysical involved, 
something transcendent and spiritual that is required. Collectively,
 we fail to perceive aging's meaning as well as its hidden beauty 
if we look only through the lens of physiology.

Sadly, modern societies seem to produce people who grow older
 and older, but do not become wiser with age. There seems to be
 a collective vacating of the later stages of life when it comes to living
 with meaning and purpose and serving something beyond oneself.
 Due to improved diets, medical and technological advances, many people
 live to a ripe old age. Yet, few seem to ripen into elders, or blossom into wisdom
 and most seem unable to harvest knowledge from life experience
 in order to pass it on to those coming along.

Typically, we put more effort into helping people reach old age 
than helping them learn what to do with it. As an old saying warns, 
“we grow gray in our spirit long before we grow gray in our hair.”
 The problem is not simply aging, but more the abandonment 
of a person's unique character and core calling that dooms the later years
 to a growing sense of loss, a fall into pools of nostalgia
 or a narrow attempt to hold onto material things.

Playing the role of elder and seer, William Blake advised that: 
"Wisdom combines insight with experience, and vision with maturity.
 If maturity expands vision, it will lead to wisdom. If not, maturity 
becomes degeneration." Either a person wises up to who they are 
at the core of their life or else they tend to slip into increasingly narrow
 ways of thinking and evermore egocentric patterns as they age.

Those who do not become as elders simply become the “olders” 
who tend to contribute to the divisions in society, whereas the elders
 would foster unity above self-interest and harmony over conflicts. 
As long as aging is considered a disease waiting for a cure, as many
 people also consider adolescence, the true value and purpose 
of growing older will become more lost.

The elders are those who have found ways to accept the hand
 that fate has dealt to them. By virtue of that, they also find the paths
 of genuine meaning and purpose that make life truly rich 
and make death the middle of a long life. It is the elder within us
 that understands that we must 
“die before we die” in order to truly live.

It is our mutual fate to live in a time of great uncertainty 
and worldwide upheaval. Increasingly, it seems that we are
 in the exact danger of not having enough wisdom to find our way
 through all the great crises that trouble both nature and human cultures.
 Yet, during times of chaos and change there can be
 an acceleration of calling and 
an awakening of the human spirit.

On one hand, young people are called to seek paths of meaning 
and purpose over more common career paths. On the other hand,
 the advent of people living longer and longer can be seen 
as nature itself trying to create an awakening of elders that can help
 us all respond more meaningfully to the many crises
 that now plague the entire planet.

Being connected to the sage in the heart, elders become instinctive
 humanitarians who can embody wisdom and 
serve the highest ideals of humanity.

“In mythic tales, the elders act as bridges 
that help young people find their way in the world. 
They also serve to bridge meaningful traditions of the past 
with viable visions of the future
 trying to become conscious.”

Because of their willingness to face death and be truly wyrd, 
the elders become the advocates of life and thus the natural allies 
of the young as well as the supporters of meaningful changes 
that can help realign culture with nature. Whether we are talking 
about older people becoming elders, or referring to the inner sage
 in each person’s heart, it is important to know that
 genuine elders are not easily daunted.

Having survived their own troubles, elders are not shocked 
or overwhelmed by the crises and conflicts that exist in the world.
 Having repeatedly seen how things fall apart, elders have also witnessed
 the uncanny ways in which both nature and culture can find roots of renewal. 
In the darkest times, the archetypal energy of the elders tries to awaken
 and help us find both ways to survive and ways to truly transform our lives.



~ Michael Meade
with thanks to Mystic Meandering






Sunday, March 10, 2024

between seeing and speaking









Somewhere between seeing and speaking, somewhere
Between our soiled and greasy currency of words
And the first star, the great moths fluttering
About the ghosts of flowers,
Lies the clear place where I, no longer I,
Nevertheless remember
Love’s nightlong wisdom of the other shore…

 I no longer I,
In this clear place between my thought and silence
See all I had and lost, anguish and joys,
Glowing like gentians in the Alpine grass,
Blue, unpossessed and open.





~ Aldous Huxley
from Island



Matins







1
Somewhere, out at the edges, the night
Is turning and the waves of darkness
Begin to brighten on the shore of dawn

The heavy dark falls back to earth
And the freed air goes wild with light,
The heart fills with fresh, bright breath
And thoughts stir to give birth to color.

2
I arise today

In the name of Silence
Womb of the Word,
In the name of Stillness
Home of Belonging,
In the name of the Solitude
Of the Soul and the Earth.

I arise today

Blessed by all things,
Wings of breath,
Delight of eyes,
Wonder of whisper,
Intimacy of touch,
Eternity of soul,
Urgency of thought,
Miracle of health,
Embrace of God.

May I live this day

Compassionate of heart,
Clear of word,
Gracious in awareness,
Courageous in thought,
Generous in love.



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




a passage

 




Investigating the awareness and acknowledgement of
the partiality of the lens we were given by family and culture,
and through which we have made our choices
and suffered their consequences,
the following thoughts appear:


If we had been born of another time and place, to different parents
who held different values, we would have had an entirely different lens.
The lens we received generated a conditional life, which represents
not who we are but how we were conditioned to see life and make choices…


We succumb to the belief that the way we have grown to see the world
is the only way to see it, the right way to see it,
and we seldom suspect the conditioned nature
of our perception.


We all live out, unconsciously,
reflexes assembled from the past.


The disparity between the inner sense of self and the acquired personality
can become so great that the suffering can no longer be suppressed or compensated…
As the person continues to operate out of the old attitudes and strategies,
a grounded self underneath the acquired personality becomes a powerful
imperative for renewal…


The first, (the acquired sense of self) must die… Such death
and rebirth is not an end in itself; it is a passage...
a second shot at what was left behind
in the pristine moments of childhood.







~ James Hollis
edited and summerized from The Middle Passage:
A Jungian Field Guide to Finding Meaning
and Transformation in Midlife
with thanks to The Marginalian
by Maria Popova

Saturday, March 9, 2024

with that moon language







Admit something:

Everyone you see, you say to them, 
“Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud, 
Otherwise,
Someone would call the cops.

Still though, think about this, 
This great pull in us 
To connect.

Why not become the one 
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
 That is always saying,

With that sweet moon 
Language,

What every other eye in this world
 Is dying to
Hear?





~ Hafiz
from The Gift
Poems by Hafiz, 
the Great Sufi Master
translations by Daniel Ladinsky



Friday, March 8, 2024

the bridge

 






Between now and now
between I am and you are
the word bridge


Entering it
you enter yourself;
the world connects and closes like a ring.


From one bank to another
there is always a body stretched:
a rainbow.
I'll sleep between its arches.




~ Octavio Paz
with thanks to love is a place
photo by Paul King


simple gifts

 






Numerous Buddhist traditions consider the four immeasurables—
loving-kindness, compassion, appreciative joy, and equanimity—
an important group of principles and practices.

The practice of the four immeasurables helps ourselves and others, 
for only by giving selflessly with our actions, speech, 
and thoughts do we truly find joy.


~ Loving-kindness (metta or maitri) is an attitude 
of wishing all beings are well, joyful, and happy,
 now and in the future.

~ Compassion (karuna) is the wish for all beings to be
 free of suffering, grief, and misery, 
now and in the future.

~ Appreciative joy (mudita) is a state of mind in which
 we rejoice in the joys and qualities of all sentient beings,
 and express gratitude for what we have.

~ Equanimity (upeksa) is the attitude of recognizing all 
sentient beings as equal and seeing
 the oneness in all beings.

When we adopt such attitudes toward all living things
without distinction or bias— including ourselves, 
our family members, friends, acquaintances, strangers, 
and even our enemies — they become immeasurable.




~ Venerable Hui Cheng
monk of the Fo Guang Shan Buddhist Order
with thanks to Lions Roar



Thursday, March 7, 2024

let the spirit move your lips and direct your tongue








You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart
you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.

And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words
may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.

There are those among you who seek the talkative
through fear of being alone.

The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes
their naked selves and they would escape.

And there are those who talk, and without knowledge
or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand.

And there are those who have the truth within them,
but they tell it not in words.
In the bosom of such as these
the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence.





~ Kahlil Gibran
from The Prophet
art by Andrea Dezsö
with thanks to The Marginalian 
by Maria Popova


Wednesday, March 6, 2024

have you considered






Have you considered the possibility
that everything you believe is wrong,
not merely off a bit, but totally wrong,
nothing like things as they really are?

If you've done this, you know how durably fragile
those phantoms we hold in our heads are,
those wisps of thought that people die and kill for,
betray lovers for, give up lifelong friendships for.

If you've not done this, you probably don't understand this poem,
or think it's not even a poem, but a bit of opaque nonsense,
occupying too much of your day's time,
so you probably should stop reading it here, now.

But if you've arrived at this line,
maybe, just maybe, you're open to that possibility,
the possibility of being absolutely completely wrong,
about everything that matters.

How different the world seems then:
everyone who was your enemy is your friend,
everything you hated, you now love,
and everything you love
slips through your fingers like sand.
 
 
 
 

~ Federico Moramarco
One Hundred and Eighty Degrees
from The City of Eden: Poems from a Life


allow the unfolding from within






Allow your judgments their own undisturbed development, 
which, like any unfolding, must come from within 
and can by nothing be forced or hastened. 
 
Everything is gestation and then birth. 
 
To allow each impression and each embryo of a feeling
 to complete itself in the dark, in the unsayable, the not-knowing,
 beyond the reach of one's own understanding, 
and humbly and patiently to await the dawning of a new clarity: 
that alone is the way of the artist -
in understanding as in creating.
 
...

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves...
Do not now seek the answers, 
which cannot be given to you because you will not be able to live them.
And the point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now.
Perhaps you will then gradually,
without noticing it,
live along some distant day into the answer.

 
 
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
 from Letters to a Young Poet, April 23, 1903


its life is one

 
 
 

 


The body
is a single creature, whole,
its life is one, never less than one, or more,
so is its world, and so
are two bodies in their love for one another.
In ignorance of this
we talk ourselves to death.




~ Wendell Berry
Sabbaths, XIV


the larger circle of all creatures








We clasp the hands of those who go before us,
and the hands of those who come after us;
we enter the little circle of each other's arms,
and the larger circle of lovers
whose hands are joined in a dance,
and the larger circle of all creatures,
passing in and out of life,
who move also in a dance,
to a music so subtle and vast
that no one hears it except in fragments.




~ Wendell Berry

photo Jane Goodall with a 
chimpanzee at the Tchimpounga 
Chimpanzee Rehabilitation Centre, 
Congo (Brazzaville).

Monday, March 4, 2024

some backward perspective

 






Billy looked at the clock on the gas stove. 
He had an hour to kill before the saucer came. 
He went into the living room, swinging the bottle like a dinner bell, 
turned on the television. He came slightly unstuck in time, 
saw the late movie backwards, then forwards again. 
It was a movie about American bombers in the Second World War
 and the gallant men who flew them. 
Seen backwards by Billy, the story went like this:

American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses, 
took off backwards from an airfield in England. Over France, 
a few German fighter planes flew at them backwards, 
sucked bullets and shell fragments 
from some of the planes and crewmen.

The bombers opened their bomb-bay doors, 
exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, 
gathered them into cylindrical steel containers, 
and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes.

The Germans below had miraculous devices of their own,
 which were long steel tubes. They used them to suck
 more fragments from the crewmen and planes.

When the bombers got back to their base,
 the steel cylinders were taken from the racks
 and shipped back to the United States of America, 
where factories were operating night and day, 
dismantling the cylinders, 
separating the dangerous contents into minerals.

Touchingly, it was mainly women who did this work.
The minerals were then shipped to specialists in remote areas.
 It was their business to put them into the ground, 
to hide them cleverly,
 so they would never hurt anybody ever again.

The American fliers turned in their uniforms, 
became high school kids. And Hitler turned into a baby, 
Billy Pilgrim supposed. 
That wasn't in the movie. Billy was extrapolating. 
Everybody turned into a baby, and all humanity, 
without exception, conspired biologically 
to produce two perfect people named Adam and Eve,
 he supposed.






~ Kurt Vonnegut
from Slaughterhouse Five
photo: Dresden after WWII bombing
with thanks to love is a place



poem of one world

 




This morning
the beautiful white heron
was floating along above the water

and then into the sky of this
the one world
we all belong to

where everything
sooner or later
is part of everything else

which thought made me feel
for a little while
quite beautiful myself.



~ Mary Oliver
from A Thousand Mornings: Poems
photo by  Ilan Horn
with thanks to Intrinsic Heart



Sunday, March 3, 2024

at the core of delusion

  


We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.

~ Kurt Vonnegut 
from Mother Night
 





still I wonder: isn’t there a rock-solid unchanging
 “me” 
hidden somewhere underneath it all?

This unexamined self feels like an isolated, self-sufficient, permanent individual, 
essentially separate from others and all that surrounds it. Yet even a few moments
 of self-reflection suggests otherwise. My body is not the same as when I was eight
 or eighteen years old. If all humans are mortal, then my life will also end,
 exact time of departure unknown. Similarly, all my feelings of happiness and sadness
 come and go, arise and cease, changing gradually or suddenly,
 but always, inevitably, changing.

Looking closely, I also see that I’m not a self-contained, entirely independent individual.
 I need food, water, and air to survive. I speak and write a language generously passed on to me 
by others from long ago. I engage in everyday activities that were all part of my cultural training
 from childhood onward: brushing my teeth, exchanging greetings of “good morning”
 and saying “good night,” attending ceremonies, weddings, funerals.

Even at the most basic level of existence, I did not arise as a spontaneous,
 self-created human being. I was born and nurtured through the union and love 
of my parents, and they are also descendants of many ancestors before them.
 We are all “dependently related” beings, developing and aging in rapidly changing societies.

When we conduct our lives as though, all evidence to the contrary, we are separate,
 permanent, unitary selves, we find ourselves constantly living in fear of the large,
 looming shadow of change. Actions based on a mistaken sense of self, or “ego,”
 as an unchanging, isolated essence are filled with anxious struggle.
 We fight many futile battles against the way things actually are. How are they really?
 They are changing, connected, fluid. It’s as though we are standing waist-deep
 in the middle of a rushing river, our arms outstretched wide,
 straining to stop the flow.

This mistaken sense of self arises as a solidified set of beliefs about who we are
 and how the world is. When we proceed on that basis, all our life experiences are filtered
 through a rigorous, simplistic, for-and-against screening process:
 “Will this person or event enhance my permanent sense of self? 
Will this encounter threaten the ideas I’ve already accumulated?”
 
 Believing the inner voice of deception, we grasp and defend and ignore in service to an illusion,
 causing suffering for ourselves and others.

Letting go of the false sense of self feels liberating, like being released from a claustrophobic prison
 of mistaken view. What a relief to discover that we don’t have to pretend to be something 
we’re not! The initially surprising and challenging news of “no solid self” 
turns out to be a gentle invitation into a more spacious approach to living
 and being with others. Releasing fixation on permanence goes hand in hand
 with taking brave steps toward more communication and harmony in our lives,
 our actions, our relationships, and our work.

We might call this fluid inter-being an “open self,” one that is more sensitive
 to other living beings and nature. This open sense of self allows us to proceed from empathy
 and compassion for ourselves and for those suffering around us and elsewhere.
 With the dissolving of the seemingly solid walls of ego’s fragile tower, our experience is porous
 and permeable, less cut off and isolated. As we gradually release the old commitment
 to conquering the unconquerable, to denying the undeniable, we explore the many genuine
 and fresh possibilities in our ever-changing situation.
 
 
 
 
 
~  Gaylon Ferguson
with thanks to Lion's Roar

 
 

Saturday, March 2, 2024

what makes them beautiful

 
 
 
 



 
 
 Look at the animals roaming the forest: God’s spirit dwells within them.
 Look at the birds flying across the sky: God’s spirit dwells within them.
 Look at the tiny insects crawling in the grass: God’s spirit dwells within them. . . .
 
 Look too at the great trees of the forest; look at the wild flowers and the grass in the fields;
 look even at your crops. God’s spirit is present within all plants as well.
 The presence of God’s spirit in all living things is what makes them beautiful; 
and if we look with God’s eyes, nothing on the earth is ugly. 
 
 
 
from The Letters of Pelagius: 
Celtic Soul Friend,
 edited by Robert Van de Weyer
 with thanks to Richard Rohr's Daily Meditations
 photo: Beluga Whales

 
 

nameless

 







In Love there are no days or nights,
For lovers it is all the same.

The musicians have gone, yet the Sufis listen;
In Love there is a beginning but no end.

Each has a name for his Beloved,
But for me my Beloved is nameless.

Sa’di, if you destroy an idol,
Then destroy the idol of the self.





~ Sa’di
from Islamic Mystical Poetry:
 Sufi Verse from the Early Mystics to Rumi
English version by Mahmood Jamal
with thanks to Poetry Chaikhana


Friday, March 1, 2024

all things arise, abide, and fall away

 
 
 

 
 
Sometimes the quiet of Hakujuan, which was one of its only virtues, 
was broken by the noise of guests, often they were give to complaint -
whining about conditions, gossiping about the temples and their struggles,
being angry in a world designed to cure anger.
 
She would listen, but as the years passed she found herself 
strangely dreaming sometimes.
 
The waves of feeling would roll past, and she could feel
life rising and falling like the deck of a ship - as though
her own body were rolling through the waves of time.
 
Arising, abiding, and falling away -
this is all the Blessed One taught.
This is all it is, she thought, this is it.
 
All things arise, abide, and fall away, and we suffer only because we 
hold on to what we are bound to lose,  Pain is a given, but suffering -
that we make.
 
This is all he taught, she reminded herself,
walking through the rooms of the nunnery as though
rowing a raft through the tide -
up, down, up again. 
 
...

And then she saw that arising arose, abided, and fell away -
and that abiding arose, abided, and fell away - 
and that falling away arose, abided, and fell away.
She saw that knowing this arose, abided, and fell away.
 
Then she knew there was nothing more than this, 
no ground, nothing to lean on stronger than the cane she held,
nothing to lean upon at all, and no one leaning, 
and she opened the clenched fist in her mind and let go
and fell into the midst of everything. 
 
 
 
~ Teijitsu
from the lonely one, found in
Women of the Way by Sallie Tisdale
 
 
 
 

you who want knowledge

 





You who want
knowledge,
seek the Oneness
within

There you
will find
the clear mirror
already waiting





~ Hadewijch
English version by Jane Hirshfield
with thanks to Poetry Chaikhana



no past or future

 







Have you not noticed
that love is silence?

It may be while holding the hand of another
or looking lovingly at a child,
or taking in the beauty of an evening.

Love has no past or future, and so it is
with this extraordinary state of silence.



~ J. Krishnamurti



rest in inaction

 






You have only to rest in inaction 
and things will transform themselves. 

Smash your form and body,
 spit out hearing and eyesight, 
forget you are a thing among other things, 
and you may join in great unity 
with the deep and boundless.




~ Chuang Tzu
with thanks to love is a place
photo: sleeping sperm whales