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Friday, August 16, 2002
Editor: Gloria Lee
from Zen Pearl
curtain of the world
'If it is said that I am concealed by the existence of the world,
then who is it that blossoms in the form of the world? Can a red
jewel be concealed by its own luster? Does a chip of gold lose its
goldness if turned into an ornament? Does a lotus lose itself when it
blossoms into so many petals? When a seed of grain is sown & grows
into an ear of corn, is it destroyed or does it appear in its
enhanced glory? So there is no need to draw the curtain of the world
away in order to have my vision, because I am the whole panorama.'
from Harsha Satsangh
I was on the way to make the deposit this morning, when I had gone a couple of
blocks, I noticed a lady in the median up ahead running back and forth picking up
blowing sheets of paper frantically. It was obvious she was desperately trying to
recover a stack of papers that had somehow gotten out of her car and were being
swiftly distributed by the wind, and gusts from speeding cars to an area covering
about a city block.
I pulled over and spent the next several minutes dodging heavy traffic with one
other good Samaritan who had stopped the same as I to assist. In the course of
pulling soggy sheets from the gutters and the weeds on the median I noticed that
they were printed with stanzas of poetry, and I realized why she was so
hopelessly desperate to to recover every piece, it was really her heart that was
blowing down that busy street disappearing into the maddening pace of that
nonstop traffic. Then she came up to me, obviously exhausted, clutching dozens
of sheets to her chest and simply said "Thank you so much!" as she took what I
had collected... I replied "You're welcome." got in my car and drove away
thinking how really small, yet very magical, this world can be.
from Zen Pearl
An absolute can only be given in an intuition, while all the rest has to do with
analysis. We call intuition here the sympathy by which one is transported into the
interior of an object in order to coincide with what there is unique and consequently
inexpressible in it. Analysis, on the contrary, is the operation which reduces the
object to elements already known.
This love comes to rest in me,
In one being.
In one Wheat-grain
A thousand sheaf stacks.
Inside the needle's eye,
A turning night of stars."
From the book, "The Illuminated Rumi"
published by Broadway Books New York.
from Spiritual Friends
This poem is by a friend of mine, Ken Wolman. He was a half mile from
the towers on Sept. 11th. This was written five days later:
STARDUST MEMORIES OF SEPTEMBER 16, 2001
Our dog is a huge mutt combo, Shepherd and Rott
with the jaws of a wolf, the manic prance.
Ninety-two pounds of him, he leaps on our bed,
leans to slurp, bares his teeth in a hound-grin,
then chases a cat and barks like an offkey posthorn.
But in this morning's sunlight he lays playing dead
on the comforter, paws drawn up, wanting the touch of my hands
to rub his stomach, massage his great ribcage, stroke
the side of his face at perfect rest, eyes half-closed.
Here, now, he is quiescent, wants only this peace,
craves my touch, my whisper and kiss on the side of his wolf-face.
And in this moment he passes into me the sweetest of losses,
perfect unwitting forgetfulness of what I have lately seen.
He casts from me the unpurgeable sight:
a mobile of Hell hanging in my vision, of cities burning,
daymares of death spinning from the sky.
He is all Present, our Hound of Heaven, time beyond time,
and I hear only his breathing, my own stopped,
and in the background on the jazz station, Tormé eternal,
singing "Stardust" that rains down life upon us,
Eternity the feast of Here.
Begin from homepage to read
more poems and journal stories.
Adventures at Rasa Ranch #37
Today, just for fun, Ananda and I were doing some beginning math
together out of a book. She was supposed to figure out if there were
enough bones for the dogs on the page by matching them up together.
I could see by glancing at it that we were one bone short. She
proceeded to draw lines from all the dogs except one and when she
was done I asked, "So, were there enough bones for the dogs?" She
said, "Yep." I pointed and said, "What about this one?" She said,
"Mommy, yook at him. He doesn't yook hungry at all."
from Spiritual Friends
I found this on: http://www.artsci.wustl.edu/~rsnarren/koan.html
the site doesn't give a book
or author attribution.
Hotei, the Happy Chinaman
Hotei lived in the T'ang dynasty. He had no desire to call himself a Zen
master or to gather many disciples about him. Instead he walked the streets
with a big sack into which he would put gifts of candy, fruit, or doughnuts.
These he would give to children who gathered around him to play. He
established a kindergarten of the streets. Whenever he met a Zen devotee
he would extend his hand and say: "Give me one penny." And if anyone
asked him to return to a temple to teach, again he would reply: "Give me
one penny." Once as he was about his play-work another Zen master
happened along and inquired: "What is the significance of Zen?" Hotei
immediately plopped his sack down on the ground in silent answer. "Then,"
asked the other, "what is the actualization of Zen?" At once Hotei swung
the sack over his shoulder and continued on his way.
Allspirit Website: http://www.allspirit.co.uk
from Sufi Mystic
Surrender is the simple but profound wisdom of yielding to rather
than opposing the flow of life. The only place where you can
experience the flow of life is the Now, so to surrender is to accept
the present moment unconditionally and without reservation. It is to
relinquish inner resistance to what is.
- Eckhart Tolle
from Zen Pearl
No brown ground fears
No white cloud memories
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