seeing reality? true ideas?

.

There's no state in which one is seeing reality. 

WHO is seeing WHAT? 

You can only BE real. 

(And that you are always.) 

The problem exists only in thinking.

Let all false ideas go, 

that's all. 

There's no need for true ideas. 

(Since there are none.)

.

 Nisargadatta Maharaj

.

a more direct revelation

.
Much as I admire the Christian principles and teaching, 
and the people ... who follow them,

...for myself I require a more direct revelation, 

not one that must come through so many minds before it reaches mine.  

I must have a faith that I can see and hear, 

one that I can feel without thinking or even trying to put it into words.  

It is not for anyone else, it is a personal faith.

.

~ Harlan Hubbard

.from his journal, 1959


.

Go deeper

.

Go deeper than love, for the soul has greater depths,

love is like the grass, but the heart is deep wild rock

molten, yet dense and permanent.

Go down to your deep old heart, and lose sight of yourself.

And lose sight of me, the me whom you turbulently loved.

Let us lose sight of ourselves, and break the mirrors.

For the fierce curve of our lives is moving again to the depths

out of sight, in the deep living heart.

D.H. Lawrence
photo: Kilauea lava lake

After Anna's death

He was not lonely because he had no desire to return to the past: 

"I am not one of those who enjoy thinking of their past life.  

For me, it is gone, and I have no desire to resurrect it even in thought."  

He saw the pain and imperfection of the past, and he did not want it back. 

The present was enough; it was all he asked.  

And the present provided him sufficient company.  

He was newly and generously mindful of the creatures who lived with him in Payne Hollow:  

"This hillside is common ground for me and the little wild animals who live here."  

He was attentive as perhaps never before to the presence of possum and chipmunk, 

cricket and katydid, bullfrog and dove.  

When he woke long before dawn, the night song of the katydids 

would be dwindling toward silence: 

"Each squawk you think is the last; but no, some diehard starts afresh.  

Sometimes I lie awake listening.  

Surely now the night is over, but no, not yet.

~ Wendell Berry

quoting Harlan Hubbard in

Harlan Hubbard - Life and Work

art by Harlan Hubbard

.

so near and real

.

"This continued fair, warm weather, and the ripening of the earth...
 affords a glimpse of life on a higher level than we know. 
 It is marvelous that our daily lives go on amid this splendor. 
No heaven could be more fair."

.

To see the earth and its creatures in this way is not to see them merely
 as they would appear to the eye of a naturalist, for he said,
 "I have little sympathy with the viewpoint of the naturalist."  

It is rather, to see into their life, to be aware of the informing spirit 
which they manifest: "The sound of the crickets is one voice, one manifestation,
 one of the myriads of the spirit which hovers over the earth." 

This seems sometimes to be a "distant contemplative spirit, yet so near and real, 
that watches the writhings of men."  At other times it seems to be immanent,
 at one with the creatures it informs, and this leads him to dispute the scientific 
reduction to fact: "I watched the fireflies as I looked down into the bottom land,
 like a basin in its wall of dark trees, all filled with the flashing, moving light...
 Their wild dance suggests the supernatural.  The scientist would explain it
 probably as the mating of insects, but how would he account for the joy
 it raises in the beholder?  That is the supernatural part and it can't be 
explained away.  
It is more real than the scientific fact."

~ Wendell Berry

quoting Harlan Hubbard's journal from 1963
art by HH "The Hawthorne Tree," 1985

.

I discovered a truth

.

.

I discovered a truth that seemed to me a revelation... 

There seemed to be two universes which I termed the world and the earth, 

in either of which I could choose to live.  

Then I saw there was but one, 

and that I was living on the earth looking directly into infinity.

.

~ Harlan Hubbard
from the afterword of "Payne Hollow - Life on the fringe of Society"
afterword by Don Wallis

art by the author, River Hills, 1935

.

The painter Harlan Hubbard

The painter Harlan Hubbard said

that he was painting Heaven when

the places he painted merely were

the Campbell or Trimble County

banks of the Ohio, or farms

and hills where he had worked or roamed:

a house's gable and roofline

rising from a fold in the hills, 

trees bearing snow, two shanty boats

at dawn, immortal light upon 

the flowing river in its bends.

And these were Heavenly because

he never saw them clear enough to satisfy his love, his need

to see them all again, again.

~ Wendell Berry

art by Harlan Hubbard

.

.

What is usual is not what is always

What is usual is not what is always.

As sometimes, in old age, hearing comes back.

Footsteps resume their clipped edges,

birds quiet for decades migrate back to the ear.

Where were they? By what route did they return?

A woman mute for years

forms one perfect sentence before she dies.

The bitter young man tires;

the aged one sitting now in his body is tender,

his face carries no regret for his choices.

What is usual is not what is always, the day says again.

It is all it can offer.

Not ungraspable hope, not the consolation of stories.

Only the reminder that there is exception.

~ Jane Hirshfield

photo by Eliot Porter

.

Meet your own self

.

Meet your own self. Be with your own self, 

listen to it, obey it, cherish it, keep it in mind ceaselessly. 
.

You need no other guide. 

As long as your urge for truth affects your daily life, 

all is well with you. 

.

Live your life without hurting anybody. 

Harmlessness is a most powerful form of Yoga and it will take you speedily to your goal. 

This is what I call nisarga yoga, the Natural yoga. 

It is the art of living in peace and harmony, 

in friendliness and love. 

.

The fruit of it is happiness, uncaused and endless.

.

~ Nisargadatta Maharaj

.

Stranger

.

When no one listens

To the quiet trees

When no one notices

The sun in the pool.

Where no one feels

The first drop of rain

Or sees the last star

Or hails the first morning

Of a giant world

Where peace begins

And rages end:

One bird sits still

Watching the work of God:

One turning leaf,

Two falling blossoms,

Ten circles upon the pond.

One cloud upon the hillside,

Two shadows in the valley

And the light strikes home.

Now dawn commands the capture

Of the tallest fortune,

The surrender

Of no less marvelous prize!

Closer and clearer

Than any wordy master,

Thou inward Stranger

Whom I have never seen,

Deeper and cleaner

Than the clamorous ocean,

Seize up my silence

Hold me in Thy Hand!

Now act is waste

And suffering undone

Laws become prodigals

Limits are torn down

For envy has no property

And passion is none.

Look, the vast Light stands still

Our cleanest Light is One!

~ Thomas Merton

.

Excerpts from extemporaneous talks in Ojai California

.

Oak Grove High School in Ojai, California, founded by J. Krishnamurti in 1975
It is a pre-K through grade 12 private school offering a small, intimate, inquiry-based day and boarding program that blends college preparatory academics with deep exploration of life’s issues. Teachers support open-minded and spirited discussion, encourage inquiry, and strive to develop in each student a self-reflective capacity that leads to inner honesty, independence and integrity. Graduates go on to college having developed a global perspective, sensitivity toward the environment and human relations, and exceptional critical thinking skills.    www.oakgroveschool.com 

.

.

Everywhere society is conditioning the individual, and this conditioning takes the form of self-improvement, which is really the perpetuation of the 'me', the ego, in different forms.  Self-improvement may be gross, or it may be very, very refined when it becomes the practice of virtue, goodness, the so-called love of one's neighbor, but essentially it is the continuance of the 'me', which is a product of the conditioning influences of society.  All your endeavor has gone into becoming something, either here, if you can make it, or if not, in another world; but it is the same urge, the same drive to maintain and continue the self.

.

August 7th, 1955

.

If one is capable of studying, watching oneself, one begins to discover how cumulative memory is acting on everything one sees; one is forever evaluating, discarding or accepting, condemning or justifying, so one's experience is always within the field of the known, of the conditioned.  But without cumulative memory as a directive, most of us feel lost, we feel frightened, and so we are incapable of observing ourselves as we are.  When there is the accumulative process, which is the cultivation of memory, our observation of ourselves becomes very superficial.  Memory is helpful in directing, improving oneself, but in self-improvement there can never be a revolution, a radical transformation. It is only when the sense of self-improvement completely ceases, but not by volition, that there is a possibility of something transcendental, something totally new coming into being.

.

August 21st, 1955

.

If we can discover from what the sense of domination springs, that discovery may answer the question of why we are violent.

.

 August 27th, 1955

.

Being free of society implies not being ambitious, not being covetous, not being competitive; it implies being nothing in relation to that society which is striving to be something.  But you see, it is very difficult to accept that because you may be trodden on, you may be pushed aside; you will have nothing.  In that nothingness there is sanity, not in the other...  As long as one wants to be part of this society, one must breed insanity, wars, destruction, and misery; but to free oneself from this society - the society of violence, of wealth, of position, of success - requires patience, inquiry, discovery, not the reading of books, the chasing after teachers, psychologists, and all the rest of it.

.

August 28th, 1955

.

~ J. Krishnamurti

.

not moving even one step

The rain falling too lightly to shape

an audible house, and audible tree,

blind, soaking, the old horse waits in his pasture.

He knows the field for exactly what it is:

his limitless mare, his beloved.

Even the mallards sleep in her red body maned

in thistles, hooved in the new green shallows of spring.

Slow rain streams from fetlocks, hips, the lowered head,

while she stands in the place beside him that no one sees.

The muzzles almost touch.

How silently the heart pivots on its hinge.

~ Jane Hirshfield

from The Lives of the Heart

Listening

.

.

What is the deep listening?  Sama is

a greeting from the secret ones inside

.

the heart, a letter.  The branches of 

your intelligence grow new leaves in

.

the wind of this listening.  The body

reaches a peace.  Rooster sound comes,

.

reminding you of your love for dawn.

The reed flute and the singer's lips:

.

the knack of how spirit breathes into

us becomes as simple and ordinary as

.

eating and drinking.  The dead rise with 

the pleasure of listening.  If someone

.

can't hear a trumpet melody, sprinkle

dirt on his head and declare him dead.

.

Listen, and feel the beauty of your

separation, the unsayable absence.

.

There's a moon inside every human being.

Learn to be companions with it.  Give

.

more of your life to this listening.  As

brightness is to time, so you are to

.

the one who talks to the deep ear in

your chest.  I should sell my tongue

.

and buy a thousand ears when that

one steps near and begins to speak.

.

~ Rumi

from The Glance

translated by Coleman Barks

.

When the Cat Stole the Milk

.

.

Well there it is.  There's nothing to do.

The cat steals the milk and it's gone.

Then the cat steals you, and you're found

Days later, with milk on your face.

.

That implies that you become whoever

Steals you.  The trees steal a man,

And an old birch becomes his wife

And they live together in the woods.

.

Some of us have always wanted

God to steal us.  Then our friends

Would call each other, and print

Posters, and we would never be found.

.

~ Robert Bly

.

People Like Us

.

.

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

for James Wright

.