Friday, September 11, 2020

suchness









In the theosophy of light,
The logical universal
Ceases to be anything more
Than the dead body of an angel.
What is substance? Our substance
Is whatever we feed our angel.
The perfect incense for worship
Is camphor, whose flames leave no ashes.



~ Kenneth Rexroth
from Selected Poems



 

die to everything that you know



 
 
 
 
We have to understand another phenomenon in life, which is death: death from old age, or disease, and accidental death, through disease, or naturally.  We grow old inevitably, and that age is shown in the way we have lived our life, it shows in our face, whether we have satisfied our appetites crudely, brutally.  We lose sensitivity, the sensitivity we had when young, fresh, innocent.  And as we grow older we become insensitive, dull, unaware, and gradually enter the grave.
 
So there is old age.  And there is this extraordinary thing called death, of which most of us are dreadfully frightened.  If we are not frightened, we have rationalized this phenomenon intellectually and have accepted the edicts of the intellect.  But it is still there.  And obviously there is the ending of the organism, the body.  And we accept that naturally, because we see everything dying.  But what we do not accept is the psychological ending, of the "me," with the family, with the house, with success, the things I have done, and the things I have still to do, the fulfillments and the frustrations - and there is something more to do before I end!  And the psychological entity, we're afraid that will come to an end - the "me," the "I," the "soul," in the various forms, words, that we give to the center of our being.
 
Does it come to an end?  Does it have a continuity?  The East has said it has a continuity: there is reincarnation, being born better in the next life if you have lived rightly.  If you believe in reincarnation, as the whole of Asia does (I don't know why they do, but it gives them a great deal of comfort), then in that idea is implied, if you observe it very closely, that what you do now, every day, matters tremendously.  Because in the next life you're going to pay for it or be rewarded depending on how you have lived.  So what matters is not what you believe will happen in the next life but what you are and how you live.  And that is implied also when you talk about resurrection.  Here (in the West) you have symbolized it in one person and worship that person, because you yourself don't know how to be reborn again in your life now (not "in heaven at the right hand of God," whatever that may mean).
 
So what matters is how you live now- not what your beliefs are - but what you are, what you do.  But we are afraid that the center, called the "I," may come to an end.  We ask: Does it come to an end?  Please listen to this!
 
You have lived in thought; that is, you have given tremendous importance to thinking.  But thinking is old; thinking is never new; thinking is the continuation of memory.  If you have lived there, obviously there is some kind of continuity.  And it is a continuity that is dead, over, finished.  It is something old; only that which ends can have something new.  So dying is very important to understand; to die; to die to everything that one knows. 
 
 I don't know if you have ever tried it.  To be free from the known, to be free from your memory, even for a few days, to be free from your pleasure, without any argument, without any fear, to die to your family, to your house, to your name, to become completely anonymous.  It is only the person who is completely anonymous who is in a state of non-violence, who has no violence.  And so to die every day, not as an idea but actually-do do it sometime!
 
You know, one has collected so much, not only books, houses, the bank account, but inwardly, the memories of insults, the memories of flattery, the memories of neurotic achievements, the memory of holding on to your own particular experience, which gives you a position.  To die to all that without argument, without discussion, without any fear, just to give it up.  Do it sometime, you'll see.  
 
It used to be the tradition in the East that a rich man every five years or so gave up everything, including his money, and began again.  You can't do that nowadays; there are too many people, everyone wanting your job, the population explosion, and all the rest of it.  But to do it psychologically-not give up your wife, your clothes, your husband, your children, or your house, but inwardly-is not to be attached to anything.  In that there is great beauty.  After all, it is love, isn't it?  Love is not attachment.  When there is attachment, there is fear.  And fear inevitably becomes authoritarian, possessive, oppressive, dominating.
 
So meditation is the understanding of life, which is to bring about order.  Order is virtue, which is light.  This light is not to be lit by another, however experienced, however clever, however erudite, however spiritual.  Nobody on earth or in heaven can light that except yourself in your own understanding and meditation.
 
To die to everything within oneself!  For love is innocent and fresh, young, and clear.  Then, if you have established this order, this virtue, this beauty, this light in yourself, then you can go beyond.  This means that the mind, having laid order-which is not of thought-the mind then becomes utterly quiet, silent, naturally, without any force, without any discipline.  And in the light of that silence all actions can take place, the daily living, from that silence.  And if one were lucky enough to have gone that far, then in that silence there is quite a different movement, which is not of time, which is not of words, which is not measurable by thought, because it is always new.  It is that immeasurable something that man has everlastingly sought.  But you have to come upon it; it cannot be given to you. 
 
 It is not the word or the symbol; those are destructive.  But for it to come, you must have complete order, beauty, love.  Therefore you must die to everything that you know psychologically, so that you mind is clear, not tortured, so that it sees things as they are, both outwardly and inwardly.
 
 
 
 
~ J. Krishnamurti,
 from talks in Europe 1968
May 19, 1968
Amsterdam
 
 

Thursday, September 10, 2020

in the deep woods





You find a flower half-buried in leaves,
And in your eye its very fate resides.
Loving beauty, you caress the bloom;
Soon enough, you’ll sweep petals from the floor.


Terrible to love the lovely so,
To count your own years, to say “I’m old,”
To see a flower half-buried in leaves
And come face to face with what you are.

 


~   Han Shan
 
 

In Basho's house




In Basho's house
there are no walls,
no roof, floors
or pathway -
nothing to show

where it is,
yet you can enter
from any direction
through a door
that's always open.

You hear voices
though no one
is near you -
you'll listen without
knowing you do.

Time and time
you get up to greet
a stranger coming
towards you.
No one ever appears.

Hours and seasons
lose their names -
as do passing clouds.
Rising moon and setting sun
no longer cast shadows.

Sounds drift in
like effortless breathing -
frogsplash, birdsong,
echoes of your
own footsteps.

It all ceases
to exist in Basho's house -
the place you've entered
without knowing
you've taken a step.

Sit down. Breathe
in, breathe out.
Close your tired eyes.
Basho is sitting beside you -
a guest in his own house.




~  Peter Skyzynecki
from:  Old/New World: New & Selected Poems



Tuesday, September 8, 2020

a moment outside the moment









From birth to death time surrounds us

with its intangible walls.
We fall with the centuries, the years, the minutes.
Is time only a falling, only a wall?
For a moment, sometimes, we see
not with our eyes but with our thoughts
time resting in a pause.
The world half-opens and we glimpse
the immaculate kingdom,
the pure forms, presences
unmoving, floating
on the hour, a river stopped:
truth, beauty, numbers, ideas
and goodness, a word buried
in our century.
A moment without weight or duration,
a moment outside the moment:
thought sees, our eyes think.








~ Octavio Paz





between what I see and what I say




for Roman Jakobson

1

Between what I see and what I say,
Between what I say and what I keep silent,
Between what I keep silent and what I dream,
Between what I dream and what I forget:
poetry.
It slips
between yes and no,
says
what I keep silent,
keeps silent
what I say,
dreams
what I forget.
It is not speech:
it is an act.
It is an act
of speech.
Poetry
speaks and listens:
it is real.
And as soon as I say
it is real,
it vanishes.
Is it then more real?

2

Tangible idea,
intangible
word:
poetry
comes and goes
between what is
and what is not.
It weaves
and unweaves reflections.
Poetry
scatters eyes on a page,
scatters words on our eyes.
Eyes speak,
words look,
looks think.
To hear
thoughts,
see
what we say,
touch
the body of an idea.
Eyes close,
the words open.





~ Octavio Paz (1914-1998),
from A Tree Within, (Poems 1976-1987)








Monday, September 7, 2020

opening





Opening the letter of the body's life
inside the words.  This body, your life, is a letter
to the king of the universe.

Go to a private place and open it and read to see if
the words are right.  If they

aren't, start another!  And don't think it's easy to open
the body and read the secret

message.  This is the most courageous work, not something
for children playing with knucklebones in the dirt.

Open to the title page.  Is what it says there the same as what you
have said it says?  If

you're carrying a heavy sack, empty out the stones!  Bring
only what should be given.




~ Rumi
from The Soul of Rumi
translation by Coleman Barks



Sunday, September 6, 2020

self-imposed suffering






If we live in the moment, we are not in time. 
If you think, "I'm a retired person. I've retired from my role,"
 you are looking back at your life. It's retrospective; it's life in the rear-view mirror.
 If you're young, you might be thinking, "I have my whole life ahead of me. 
This is what I'll do later." That kind of thinking is called time-binding.
 It causes us to focus on the past or the future 
and to worry about what comes next.

Getting caught up in memories of the past or worrying about the future
 is a form of self-imposed suffering. Either retirement or youth 
can be seen as moving on, time for something different, something new.
 Aging is not a culmination. Youth isn't preparation for later.
 This isn't the end of the line or the beginning.

Now isn't a time to look back or plan ahead. 
It's time to just be present. The present is timeless. 
Being in the moment, just being here with what is,
 is ageless and eternal.
 
 
 
~ Ram Dass
 
 
 
 
 
 

earth's desire





To be seen
in her loveliness 

to be tasted
in her delicious
fruits

to be listened to
in her teaching

to be endured
in the severity
of her discipline

to be experienced
as the maternal
source
whence we come

the destiny
to which we
return.




~ Thomas Berry


The basic mood of the future might well be one of confidence in the continuing revelation that takes place in and through the Earth. If the dynamics of the Universe from the beginning shaped the course of the heavens, lighted the sun, and formed the Earth, if this same dynamism brought forth the continents and the seas and atmosphere, if it awakened life in the primordial cell and then brought into being the unnumbered variety of living beings, and finally brought us into being and guided us safely through the turbulent centuries, there is reason to believe that this same guiding process is precisely what has awakened in us our present understanding of ourselves and our relation to this stupendous process. Sensitized to such guidance from the very structure and functioning of the Universe, we can have confidence in the future that awaits the human venture.

"The New Story" The Dream of the Earth


Saturday, September 5, 2020

impossible orchestra











~ Conductor Alondra de la Parra

brings together The Impossible Orchestra, formed by outstanding musicians from 14 different countries. The goal is to support Mexican women and children affected by COVID-19 through Fondo Semillas and Save the Children México.
 
 
 

when death comes











When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
 
 
 
 
~ Mary Oliver
 
 
 
 

if strangers meet







if strangers meet
life begins-
not poor not rich
(only aware)
kind neither
nor cruel
(only complete)
i not not you
not possible;
only truthful
-truthfully,once
if strangers(who
deep our most are
selves)touch:
forever
.
(and so to dark)



~ e.e. cummings

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

intensely alive


.

.



When we look deeply into anything or anyone, 
the looking will always reveal a networking of causes and conditions,
 a fabric of inter-becoming that is vast and pervasive 
without any finite boundaries in either space or time. 

There is a transforming magic in deep seeing. 
There is a magic in love;
 magic in the sense that the moment is filled with
 a feeling of immense spaciousness and possibility. 
Things seem more intensely alive. 


The predictable world,
 filled with its opaque-making hopes and fears becomes transparent,
 revealing a world poised on that terrifying and awesomely alive point of impermanence, 
a universe dancing in that impossible place that transcends all paradox. 

To love someone is not to know a person totally.
 It is to constantly realize that they are infinitely vast and
 ultimately unknowable. 


So the voyage of discovery never comes to an end and 
the person is a focus of undying interest, 
continually revealing new facets of being. 



~ Tarchin Hearn
 


.



by forgetting time







In our consciousness of time
we are doomed to the past.
The future we may dream of
but can know it only after
it has come and gone.
The present too we know
only as the past. When
we say, "This now is
present, the heat, the breeze,
the rippling water," it is past.
Before we knew it, before
we said "now." it was gone.


If the only time we live
is the present, and if the present
is immeasurably short (or
long), then by the measure
of the measurers we don't
exist at all, which seems
improbable, or we are
immortals, living always
in eternity, as from time to time
we hear, but rarely know.


You see the rainbow and the new-leafed
woods bright beneath, you see
the otters playing in the river
or the swallows flying, you see
a beloved face, mortal
and beloved, causing the heart
to sway in the rift between beats
where we live without counting,
where we have forgotten time
and have forgotten ourselves,
where eternity has seized us
as its own. This breaks
open the little circles
of the humanly known and believed,
of the world no longer existing,
letting us live where we are,
as in the deepest sleep also
we are entirely present,
entirely trusting, eternal.


Is it concentration of the mind,
our unresting counting
that leaves us standing
blind in our dust?
In time we are present only
by forgetting time.




~ Wendell Berry

art by James Eads




Tuesday, September 1, 2020

to steady the ladder







Some say that compassion, kindness and caring are our true nature. 
The instinct to help, to steady the ladder, to be there when we are needed,
to do so without so much as a thought for ourselves may arise from
deep within the seed of our being. 

In an article a few years ago one researcher discovered what
turned out to be a predictable response from very young children.


Oops, the scientist dropped his clothespin.
Not to worry — a wobbly toddler raced to help, eagerly handing it back.
The simple experiment shows the capacity for altruism emerges
as early as 18 months of age.

Psychology researcher Felix Warneken of Germany’s 

Max Planck Institute of Evolutionary Anthropology 
performed a series of ordinary tasks in front of toddlers,
such as hanging towels with clothespins or stacking books.


Sometimes he “struggled” with the tasks; sometimes he deliberately messed up.
Over and over, whether Warneken dropped clothespins or knocked over his books,
each of 24 toddlers offered help within seconds — but only if he appeared to need it.

Video shows how one overall-clad baby glanced between Warneken’s face
and the dropped clothespin before quickly crawling over,
grabbing the object, pushing up to his feet
and eagerly handing back the pin.

Warneken never asked for the help and didn’t even say “thank you,”
so as not to taint the research by training youngsters to expect praise


if they helped. After all, altruism means helping
with no expectation of anything in return

— the toddlers didn’t bother to offer help when he deliberately
pulled a book off the stack or threw a pin to the floor,




Henry David Thoreau offered the following:

"Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been,
I have great faith in a seed... Convince me that you have a seed there,
and I am prepared to expect wonders."



  In Pali the word for "faith" is saddha.  It includes aspects of trust, confidence, 
courage, strength, devotion & clarity. The literal translation of  is
 “to place the heart upon,” 
connecting from the heart, offering or giving over one’s heart.

  In Hebrew "faith" is a verb. It’s not something that we have,
 but rather something that we do.