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Highlight #1414 - Sunday, April 27, 2003 - Editor: Gloria
has stopped, the clouds have drifted away,
and the weather is clear again.
If your heart is pure. then all things in your world are pure.
Abandon this fleeting world, abandon yourself,
Then the moon and flowers will guide you along the way.
'One Robe, One Bowl' Translated by John Stevens
Gill Eardley on Allspirit
Viorica Weissman MillionPaths
means I Am He.
This way is the way of those
who remember I Am He, He is me,
so ham, swan, and hamsa, all one
soaring beauty and freedom.
No matter that we are busy in business
night and day. We don't care
what profit comes.
We live alone
inside the Lord.
__ Lalla , Naked Song
A man can
to Al Bostami (A sufi Master) and asked him:
Man: I want to know God.
Al Bostami: But you know too much, it is difficult for you.
Man: I will listen to your teachings.
Al Bostami: Will you allow me to teach?
Man: Of course I will listen and follow?
Al Bostami: But you do not know how to listen.
Man: What do you mean, I do not know how to listen?
Al Bostami: If you can listen, you will not need to see a master, God
will teach you directly.
in the desolate desert
A bear attacks me by surprise.
I simply look him in the eye.
From the book, "Fragrant Palm Leaves." Written by Thich Nhat Hanh, published by Riverhead Books
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Jerry Katz NDS
by Jerry Katz
when I was around -- oh -- tell me, what age are you when the
world is wonder? Tell me what year it is, what the generation is
named, and who the president is. How old are you when wood is
wood and cooking food is cooking food? How old are you when
happiness is intense and you're sitting on the cusp of eternity?
You're ten and it's 1959.
I was in my bedroom by myself. Playing on the floor, sitting half inside and half outside the closet. Outside the closet was like day with everything the way it seemed. Inside the closet were drapes of sheer darkness and strange holes in which marbles sat perfectly.
There was stirring in the house because my mother and father were going out to buy a lamp. There had been talk about it. Now they were going out. It was after supper on a Friday. My father appeared in his long tan overcoat, looking proud and ready, his hair black and slick, like Sid Ceasar's, beneath a dark hat. My mother wore her nice coat and carried a shiny pocket book awakened from a long sleep in a hall closet, not a bedroom closet.
(These events were made into timeless memories by wonder. Wonder installed parents, closets, and lamp into the sacred neural ivy that trims the throne of abidance.)
The next day was Saturday. I got up and found my mother reading a magazine at the kitchen table. Behind her, on the washing machine, stood the new lamp. Its cord lay along the top of the washer and reached up and back to the socket. I thought about starving people and people who I'd heard had very hard lives, and I knew I was very fortunate in that moment simply to be where I was there and then. I felt my good fortune. Looking at the glowing lampshade I saw that God was underneath the shade, in the form of light. Then the seeing was instantly repeated as an insight, complete with words and comparison to other thoughts. It was like God winking. But it was extraneous and annoying, because I had already received the knowledge. It was already emblazoned onto the throne of abidance. I don't remember what happened after that.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Terry Murphy SufiMystic
People have many ways of avoiding responsibility, new age
"enlightened" attitudes are not new. Liberals often believe that "society"
is to blame. Conservatives often believe that whatever they have done, or
will do, may be forgiven, and they can be born again, free of sin, after
I think that the law of karma is deeply ingrained, and not easily
escaped. People may excuse themselves, but guilt and shame are not so
That people are responsible for their acts, even their thoughts, is
true enough, and for those who deny, it may be "relevant and sane" to point
out their errors, or the wishful thinking they engage in. But it is also
true that God has no interest in punishing those who have seen the error of
their ways and sincerely want to do better. Confucius said, "A fault for
which you feel remorse is a fault that no longer exists." Besides justice,
God loves mercy. "What doth your Lord require of you? But to do justice,
and to love mercy, and walk humbly with your king."
Overcoming guilt and shame, especially in a culture that has
embraced the judeo-christian "thou shalts" and "the fear of god is the
beginning of wisdom" mentality, can be more important than holding people
responsible. Despite excuses, and especially despite offensive excuses
that bring about quick rejection, people need to be encouraged to pick
themselves up after their mistakes, forget them, and move on.
There is a
middle way here, between not feeling bad at all, and
feeling bad about feeling bad. Guilt can pile on guilt and paralyze a
person; or mistakes cause such shame that people refuse to admit their
mistakes because the consequences of admitting them are so awful. People
can be so depressed about mistakes they have made that they can't deal with
mistakes they are making now.
Another factor is that people tend to treat others the way they treat
themselves, and themselves the way they treat others. If we are kind and
merciful when others make mistakes or do wrong, then we can forgive
ourselves our own mistakes. As in the Lord's Prayer: "Forgive us our
trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us" - there is a clear
correspondence between the two. We need to accept people's excuses if we
expect them to accept ours.
So, either the blanket excuse that I did nothing wrong because there
is no "I", or the doctrine that everyone must pay an "eye for an eye, a
tooth for a tooth" for every transgression, are extremes, and the Middle
Way is temper justice with mercy.
Since this is a spiritual list, and we want people to realize their
divinity, to err on the side of mercy is forgiveable. ;-) We can't be
paying for our mistakes all the time, we can't be 'good' all the
time. Sometimes we have to smell the flowers, watch the rocks to see if
they are breathing, admire the patterns the spilled orange juice makes as
it wiggles across the uneven floor.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
from the Fourth Duino Elegy, by Rilke:
Who shows a child as he really is? Who sets him
in his constellation and puts the measuring-rod
of distance in his hand? Who makes his death
out of gray bread, which hardens - or leaves it there
inside his round mouth, jagged as the core
of a sweet apple? .. . . . .. . Murderers are easy
to understand. But this, that one can contain
death, the whole of death, even before
life has begun, can hold it to one's heart
gently, and not refuse to go on living,
ps there was a famous rock group which took their name from a line in the
Egyptian Book of the Dead:
"In the time of darkness the ship of light will be driven by the Grateful Dead."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou were left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.
~ from Last Lines, Emily Bronte (1819-1848)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Su Gandolf NDS
He lived on a little ashram in the not-so-deep South, had done since he got out of jail. This beautiful young man. Said he went to New York City once, couldn't believe how people walked past the homeless, hungry and desperate, the could-be dead, like they weren't there. I can't imagine that I tried to explain this away. No matter, I was "one of them". Days like today though, I think of him sometimes. If I was gonna defend this place, I'd capture a moment like this. The impromptu musical jam, 75 souls or so looking on, not one rich or famous or beautiful in the bunch. A big-bellied nerdy-looking guy with a Comedy Central cap and an amped acoustic guitar, a quiet- looking dude on electric bass, a Beat-looking wing-tip and fedora- wearing alto sax man, are playing old catchy pop tunes in the park. People who want to sing solo cut in. One man has two front teeth missing, a wandering eye, odd patches of hair, and probably lives on the streets. He sings sweet, like a cool blanket when a fever's coming. Another man sings in a piercing high tremolo that makes you wanna move. A Bee Gees tune. He points at the sax man swooning, "Chuck!". Chuck shines on "Unforgettable" by Nat King Cole. A woman who sings has such a clear and lovely voice that you expect her to be beautiful. She is disheveled, and not at all remarkable. One spectator stares at her, like in a trance, as she begins "In a New York State of Mind". Among the spectators are black faces and white faces and in-between, babies and parents, young lovers, old men and women, a couple of people with wheelchairs, a bicyclist, a drunk, tourists, neighborhood kids, and a woman with a permanent frown who occasionally makes odd gesticulations and grimaces, or holds her arms out like a devotee, or makes the sign of the cross. Sometimes the crowd joins in the singing, like on "I Love You Just the Way You Are" by Billy Joel. Everyone seems to know the words to that one. The "guru" at the ashram is a pretty good singer too, but today. I'll take Manhattan.
Ways to Stay in Peace
it is interesting in what ways Byron Katie and other contemporary
teachers are answering to the individual and collective wounded child
within in the understanding that synthesis of what is Real(?) must be
freed from the 'distortions of personality' as Farishtah called it,
before it can even begin to be experienced truly.
which leads me to ponder the question of what quality of human wave
frequency we are actually communicating on at any point in time. for
instance, this forum. given the particular medium of communication
and the priviledge of anonymity that it offers, the 'what' that is
being said and the 'who' that is saying it takes on a different
proportional quality and how, despite the absence of breath,
vibration, tonal nuance and the undeniable totality of our physical
presences we are nonetheless able to recognize who we are for each
other beyond style and name. so what is it, this subtle, illusive
something that we are receiving and projecting that emerges as a
separate and unique voice?
as I believe it is all about relationships, innate and structural,
and that fundamentally it is god essence that unites us, it is a
great delight and continually intriguing to meet under these
all the best to you and everyone, sara
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
More on the subject of The Guide
The great expanse in the kabbalistic tradition is called the 'hallal
panuy', empty space. it is the place where God's glory resides and is
absent (as if) at one and the same time. it is the abode of doubt and
contradiction that by its very nature cancels itself out. to enter in
is to tempt the dire fate of never coming out again. there is no,
absolutely no way to fathom it and only the 'jump' can get us over.
some have called it leap of faith. it is the gap between seeing we
are nothing and knowing we are everything. in the Tarot it is the
Fool, poised on the precipice of Tahom, his gaze raised upward in
total devotion that the chasm is indeed possible to span. Some
consider it the first leap without which we cannot even begin the
ascent, some the last. it is what we are willing to die for in order
to be born again. it is present in every moment.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Vicki Woodyard wrote: "Stop accentuating the negative. Put white light around yourself every single day. I am not kidding. Not being Pollyanna-ish. This is your way out. Don't feed the melodrama of misery. We all do and that is why it keeps growing. Center yourself in love. Wake up and determine to focus on self- love. The misery remains but not for you."
Dear Vicki and readers,
that concept sounds familiar. But is this your experience? From your letter about your life it looked like, as if existence has taught you lessons first, word-games and domain-expression started later. Means: first experience, later lectures. Therefore experience teaches lessons - even people cannot understand: war, violence, SARS, black plague, murder, death, inflation, brain-stroke, heart-attack, bad mood, anger, fear, and so on.... emotions come and go - life remains. Therefore we continue to share stories about _our_ experiences. Some people read e-mails, books, newspapers, others walk in the country, the mountains, swim, some of us love e-mail-entertainment to laugh, to play with emotions, yours or mine - some advertise wisdom or sell satsang - and existence supports all kind of activities - warriors, soldiers, peace-prayers.... people do, what they like to do.... My experience is: words doesn't change anything. Existence does, the real life events create experiences - words create dreams, nice to exercise the mind - Dreams, people like, people call '''true beauty''', dreams, people dislike, they call ''ugly lies''' - Therefore most masters create customers with words of beautiful lies - and believers repeat continously, print, read and enjoy these lies endlessly - until existence breaks up the dream, existence - not words - and the crucial face of existence opposite dreams is war, nightmare, murder, violence, black plague, SARS, inflation, cancer, brain-stroke, heart-attack no, I'm only kidding.... my life enjoys white light entertainment, beautiful blessings focused on self-loved enlightenment, surrounded by rays of colours mostly in light laughing in peace enjoying myself
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kheyala Adventures at Rasa Ranch #112
Several days ago I received an e-mail from an old acquaintance of ten years. She had a lot of impassioned words for me about the decisions I had come to regarding my mother and brother. This is not the first letter I had received of this nature and in the past I'd pretty much passed them by without responding to them, including one from the same person back when I was forced to cut ties with my mom. This time, however, I felt a strong call to not let it go; in other words, to meet this opportunity directly. It took days of rough drafts being composed in my head until finally I gave up trying to come up with the correct response and I made the decision to just drop it. I'd concluded that whatever was the right thing to say back to her was going to have to come from somewhere else because my attempts at using my thoughts were just not getting me anywhere. In giving up, I was also realizing intuitively that the true response was going to be somehow bigger than I was able to conceive at that time. To my astonishment, it was only about a half a beat after that release that I literally had to stop what I was doing immediately and run for a scrap of paper and a pen, and when I'd read over what had been written (cleanly, without erasure), I saw that the intuition was correct. My mind was just being way too nice to be able to let the impact of the true message come through. Anyway, hold onto your hats. Here it is:
the kinds of things you tell yourself to keep your soul locked up
in a cage of compliance? Have you noticed the creases in between
your brows? Yes, this road leads only to bitterness and disgust.
I know it because I used to travel it myself. But guess what? I
do not live by the crusty rules of that old book of values any
longer and if you find yourself again in a mood to preach from
it, better to remove my name permanently from your address book.
Kheyala 4/26/03 "Pure
I put Zachary down into the lap of a friend while I crossed her large living room on my way to the hall. He watched me as I turned to go and the look of concern on his pudgy face was so incredibly endearing that it prompted me to slow way down and say as I backed away, "It's okay, Zacky, I'll be right back," and pointing to the doorway, "I'm just going over here for a minute..." I felt utterly connected to him right then and I saw his tension literally melt at the love in my voice. As his eyes started to smile I felt my body flood over with warmth. I guess my own grin couldn't hide this because at that very moment Zack's face transformed into a vision of joy, just the hugest smile ever, all cheeks and gums and shiny eyes and lips;
light everywhere. And that's the image that stayed with me as I rounded the corner into the hallway and also the one that is making my heart glow right now as I write this.
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