Coltrane - compassion

~ John Coltrane

The divine force — God, as Coltrane defined it —

 breathes through us all, said Coltrane, 

and the last years of his life can be seen as an attempt —

 sometimes a struggle —

 to breathe God through his horn.

“Once you become aware of this force for unity in life,” 

wrote Coltrane in the liner notes for 1965’s Meditations,

 his acknowledged follow-up to A Love Supreme.

 “You can’t forget it. It becomes part of everything you do… 

my goal in meditating on this through music however remains… 

to uplift people as much as I can. To inspire them

 to realize more and more their capacities for

 living meaningful lives.”

 comments by Sean Murphy

compassion

~ Joseph Goldstein

for oneself

The first being one must have compassion for
is oneself.
You can't be a witness to your thoughts
with a chip on your shoulder or an axe to grind.

Ramana Maharshi said,
"If people would stop wailing alas I am a sinner
and use all that energy to get on with it
they would all be enlightened."

He also said,
"When you're cleaning up the outer temple
before going to the inner temple,
don't stop to read everything
you're going to throw away..."

 

art by William Russell Nowicki

 

apple

.

I wake and remembered 

nothing of what I was dreaming

The day grew light, then dark again — 

In all its rich hours, what happened? 

A few weeds pulled, a few cold flowers 

carried inside for the vase. 

A little reading. A little tidying and sweeping.

I had vowed to do nothing I did not wish 

to do that day, and kept my promise.

Once, a certain hope came close 

and then departed. Passed by me in its familiar 

shawl, scented with iodine woodsmoke.

I did not speak to it, nor it to me. 

Yet still the habit of warmth traveled 

between us, like an apple shared by old friends —

One takes a bite, then the other. 

They do this until it is gone.

~ Jane Hirshfield

you live like this

You live like this,
 sheltered,
 in a delicate world,
 and you believe you are living. 

Then you read a book… 
or you take a trip…
 and you discover
 that you are not living, 
that you are hibernating. 

The symptoms of hibernating
 are easily detectable: first, restlessness. 
The second symptom 
(when hibernating becomes dangerous 
and might degenerate into death):
 absence of pleasure. 
That is all.

 It appears like an innocuous illness. 
Monotony, boredom, death. 
Millions live like this (or die like this) 
without knowing it. 

They work in offices. 
They drive a car. 
They picnic with their families. 
They raise children.
 And then 
some shock treatment takes place, 
a person, a book, a song,
 and it awakens them and saves them from death.

~ Anaïs Nin

from The Diary of Anaïs Nin

to love myself

~ Thich Nhat Hanh

 

the way of the heart - Rumi

in the kingdom of insecurity

As the under-secretary leans forward and draws an X

her earrings dangle like the sword above Damocles,

As a speckled butterfly turns invisible against the earth

the demon merges with the opened newspaper.

A helmet worn by no one seizes power.

A mother tortoise escapes, flying underwater.

~ Tomas Transtromer

from The Sorrow Gondola

translations by Michael McGriff and Mikaela Grassl

at the center

The Master is not trapped in opposites. His this is also a that. 

He sees that life becomes death and death becomes life,

 that right has a kernel of wrong within it and wrong a kernel of right,

 that the true turns into the false and the false into the true. 

He understands that nothing is absolute,

 that since every point of view depends on the viewer, 

affirmation and denial are equally beside the point. 

The place where the this and the that are not opposed to each other

 is called "the pivot of the Tao." When we find this pivot, we find ourselves

 at the center of the circle, and here we sit, serene, 

while Yes and No keep chasing each other

 around the circumference, endlessly. 

Mind can only create the qualities of good and bad by comparing. 

Remove the comparison, and there go the qualities. 

What remains is the pure unknown: ungraspable object,

 ungraspable subject, and the clear light of awareness 

streaming through. The pivot of the Tao

 is the mind free of its thoughts.

 It doesn't believe that this is a this

 or that that is a that. 

Let Yes and No sprint around the circumference

 toward a finish line that doesn't exist. How can they stop trying

 to win the argument of life until you stop? When you do, 

you realize that you were the only one running.

 Yes was you,

 No was you, 

the whole circumference, with its colored banners,

 its pom-pom girls and frenzied crowds - that was you as well.

 At the center, the eyes open and again

 it's the sweet morning of the world. There's nothing here

 to limit you, no one here to draw a circumference.

 In fact, there's no one here - 

not even you.

~ Stephen Mitchell
from The Second Book of the Tao

art by Master Shen-Long
with thanks to Love is a Place

grace

~ Kraig Kenning

Andaluza

~ Anne Gastinel & Pablo Marques

perfect accord

Some people who play solos quite well simply are no good at accompanying.  

It takes a special something to know when to keep in the background 

and when to play out to give the soloist support and when, 

occasionally, the piano has a real solo passage or phrase ... 

The thing is to think of the piece as a whole, 

not as a violin part with an accompanying piano part, 

but as one piece of music.  

You feel as if you were playing the violin part yourself, 

you are in such perfect accord with the violinist.

~ Anna Hubbard

in this letter to Mia Cunningham, Anna describes her experience of playing with Harlan.  

It might as easily describe the art of  living graciously with others.

from "Anna Hubbard - Out of the Shadows"

by Mia Cunningham

Anna and Mia,1956

(Mia left)

Blessing

Blessed be the longing that brought you here and that quicken your soul with wonder.
May you have the courage to befriend your eternal longing.
May you enjoy the critical and creative companionship of the question "Who am I?" and may it brighten your longing.
May a secret Providence guide your thought and shelter your feeling.
May your mind inhabit your life with the same sureness with which your body belongs to the world.
May the sense of something absent enlarge your life.
May your soul be as free as the ever-new waves of the sea.
May you succumb to the danger of growth.
May you live in the neighborhood of wonder.
May you belong to love with the wildness of Dance.
May you know that you are ever embraced in the kind circle of God.





~ John O'Donohue

 

the longing

The sweetest thing in all my life 

has been the longing - to reach the Mountain, 

to find the place where all the beauty came from - 

my country, the place where I ought to have been born. 

Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? 

The longing for home? 

For indeed it now feels not like going, 

but like going back.

~ C.S. Lewis

a secret thread

 

 

 

You may have noticed that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. 

You know very well what is the common quality that makes you love them,

 though you cannot put it into words: but most of your friends do not see it at all,

 and often wonder why, liking this, you should also like that.

 

 Again, you have stood 

before some landscape, which seems to embody what you have been looking for

 all your life; and then turned to the friend at your side who appears to be seeing 

what you saw - but at the first words a gulf yawns between you, and you realize

that this landscape means something totally different to him, that he is pursuing 

an alien vision and cares nothing for the ineffable suggestion by which you 

are transported.

 

 Even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret

 attraction which the others are curiously ignorant of - something, not to 

be identified with, but always on the verge of breaking through, 

the smell of cut wood in the workshop

 or the clap-clap of water against the boat’s side?


Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet

 another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain 

even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, 

and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences

 between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood 

to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. 

 

 

All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints

 of it - tantalizing glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away

 just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest - if there ever

 came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself 

you would know it.

 

 Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say

 “Here at last is the thing I was made for.” We cannot tell each other about it. 

It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable

 want, the thing we desired before we met our wives or made our friends

 or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, 

when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work. While we are,

 this is. If we lose this, we lose all.

~ C.S. Lewis
from The Problem of Pain

art by Stushie

with thanks to Love is a Place