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#1648 - Tuesday, December 16, 2003 - Editor: Jerry  

The Not-Quite-Daily Message for December 17 ,  2003

I'm always reassured when someone is delivering a eulogy and I realize I'm listening to it.  

  Daily Dharma  

"A man whose axe was missing suspected his neighbor's son. The boy
walked like a thief, talked like a thief, and spoke like a thief. But
the man found his axe while he was digging in the valley, and the next
time he saw his neighbor's son, he walked, talked and spoke like any
other child."

~~Traditional German

From the book, "Soul Food," edited by Jack Kornfeld, published by Harper

  Bob NDS  

The best friend I ever had, for over 30 years, nearing death
recently, confided to me that he was the worst person he'd ever met.
He said, that although he'd never harmed nor hurt another living
being, he had a truly "evil heart" in relation to all men. Many
times, he confided, he'd felt like strangling someone, or cutting out
their tongue, or poking their eyes out, or stabbing them in the
heart, or shooting them in the knees (or just a little higher up,
near the sacred intersection) and watching them bleed to death - BUT,
but, he'd never acted upon such notions.

I felt compelled to tell him, that I believed him to be the nicest,
kindest person I'd ever known - and I quite meant it. I also knew
many others of our mutual friends who believed the same of him, and
that his confession was simply amazing to hear, such that I could
hardly believe it true. Yet, he said most emphatically, it was true,
he had an "evil heart".

Funny, maybe it really doesn't matter after all - in the end - what
thoughts flow through that 3 pound lump of gray matter between the
ears, and that Who you are, is What you do - regardless of the
supposed motivations you explain afterwards.

If a person acts warm and friendly to me, then I don't really care if
he wants to sic his dogs on me every time he sees me - I'd never know
it, and I don't really care, especially if he acts warm and friendly
to me.

And, I suppose, conversely, if a person acts thoughtlessly,
distracted, self-absorbed and unpleasant to me, then I don't really
care if he tells everybody he's a spiritual master, enlightened guru,
or arisen saint - that means nothing; to me, he's just someone to be
avoided at all cost.

Ahhhhh, psychology, ain't it grand?



Sometimes, when we cannot love, we are nonetheless, loved. In this
way, the ugly, brutish thing that we are is transformed. By being
loved, despite our not deserving it, despite our being, a dead
thing. An empty heart can never be filled by running after love, but
it *can* be filled by *being loved*. There is no shame in being
unable to love. There is no permanence to this state. Perhaps today
our hearts are filled and we can love the ugly and the dead, perhaps
tomorrow, we will become brutish ourselves. Who then will love us in
our ugliness? How then will we learn the real art, of allowing
ourselves to be loved?  For it is not necessary to ask for love,
only to accept it. But if you should seek, you also will be loved!
Krishnamurti's love for the seekers who came to listen at his feet
is evident in his admonition that their hearts cannot be filled by
running after gurus. Lovers, friends, family or community members,
often hold each other up, in turns. We can love because we have been
loved, ultimately not by another human being but by Love itself. Few
of us do not at least occasionally pass a mirror and remark on the
ugliness we see there. *Why should we be loved in this state*?
Because we *can* be loved, even in this unloving, unloveable
condition. Because love is the very stuff we are made of. Because we
are OK, and it is OK, and Because Dead Things Rise.

Ben Hassine

Hello birdies,  

I would like to share a little story. Today I had to work at an another location, with different people. The group I worked today has seven   both mentally and physically handicapped people ranging in age from about 25 - 35. About the same age as I am... But their level of "development" is higher than the group I usually work. They cannot really speak, but communication is somewhat easier and they are mobile and can eat and drink, dress themselves with some help, go to the bathroom etc. Very different from the kids I work for usually. So today was my first day there and when the residents came home I introduced myself and gave them coffee and took some time to get to know each other a little.   

In the beginning they kept their distance like cats and where observing my going abouts with their silent gazes. In the meantime I was having a hard time to memorize their names, protocols, medication etc. At the same time I had to try to make them feel comfortable and at ease with my presence in their home environment.  

At about five o' clock it was time for dinner and I tried hard to make them feel as comfortable as possible, feeling a stranger and a little bit ignorant as how to react and communicate with them in a proper way.  

They just sat there staring at me. After a while they started eating and I refilled plates and served drinks etc. The atmosphere changed and they smiled at me and when I was cleaning the dishes in the kitchen some followed me into the kitchen and helped me and even hugged me.  

After I was finished cleaning the dining table and the dishes, one of the residents, a male, born 1973, walked to where I was standing at that moment and took my hand and asked me to follow him to his room upstairs. It was time to shower for him and he asked me to help him.  

So slowly we walked up the stairs and he was firmly holding my hand. He invited me into his room and made me sit in the only chair in his room. He himself pointed at his electric organ and sat at the edge of his bed. The plug of the organ was disconnected, so I had to plug into the power point.  

He wanted me to play a tune for him, so I did. When I played a little he was shining as bright as the full spring moon.  

Later on that evening my colleague told me that the organ was sacred for that young man.  

At that moment I understood he was trying to make me feel at home. He tried to make me feel comfortable and said in his way: "It's okay".  

I am not sentimental or trying to be a saint, or any of that rubbish. But I am taught what friendship and consideration is in a most marvellous way.  

Maybe other people here can share their stories of friendship and joy?  

Hope to hear from you,  


Petros Truth  

"You are at a phase, a stage of your development. We are in a state of
becoming and as we go along, our consciousness actually can expand and we
potentially could experience more, so even that which you experience with
your senses is not absolutely true. This may not seem possible to many
reading this, but I am speaking literally, not just metaphorically. But in
order for you to awaken to this truth, you have to see your own
conditioning and make thinking a conscious process. Some Buddhists call this

-- Don James. More at: 

called the hamsa stretch
overlooking the vast surf

for a fish to catch

some will even buy a boat

for my bill there is no match

Jan Barendrecht

Joy unfolding

Variation on the Word Sleep

I would like to watch you sleeping.
   I would like to watch you,
   sleeping. I would like to sleep
   with you, to enter
   your sleep as its smooth dark wave
   slides over my head

   and walk with you through that lucent
   wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
   with its watery sun and three moons
   towards the cave where you must descend,
   towards your worst fear

   I would like to give you the silver
   branch, the small white flower, the one
   word that will protect you
   from the grief at the center
   of your dream, from the grief
   at the center. I would like to follow
   you up the long stairway
   again & become
   the boat that would row you back
   carefully, a flame
   in two cupped hands
   to where your body lies
   beside me, and you enter
   it as easily as breathing in
   I would like to be the air
   that inhabits you for a moment
   only. I would like to be that unnoticed
   and that necessary.

   ~ Margaret Atwood ~

Gene Poole

a useful note on web-tv, Macs, and technology  

Web TV is a peculiar, proprietary 'solution' to
online access; it has idiosyncrasies which
are esoteric  and ever-changing.

The 'web browser' which web tv users must
use, interprets web content differently than
does any other browser; and this is carried
over into how the 'reply' characters are
written to the Yahoo system.

Webmasters regularly go insane, trying to
comply with the many 'standards', strict or
slack, which are supposed to be in place, to
make the web useable for everyone, no matter
which 'platform' is in use.

Almost every day, some 'genius' proposes a
new, totally whacked scheme whereby you, the
user, will have to pay more money for using
the internet. M$ is in the forefront, by their
stinking practice of 'innovating' proprietary
'standards' for web, music, and everything else;
they have not yet seen the profit potential in
open standards and interoperation. As the
default 'market leader', their example paves the
way for such behaviour on the part of other
companies, who try to own what we all are
already using, and to charge us for it in perpetuity.

BTW... by using a 5 year-old Mac, running
40 MB of RAM (total: $100), and a budget
ISP (there are many under $10/month), one
may overcome just about every threat and
expense involved in internet access. Virii and
worms ignore the Mac OS, and by using an
older (cheap) system and OS (such as 7.6.1),
operation and software is found to be well
tested and debugged and very stable.

I prove this frequently, in my 'hobby' of
refurbing old Macs for my newby friends;
an initial outlay for hardware, upgrades,
and monthly ISP  fee, far cheaper and safer
and user-friendly than any of the super-
bargain, even 'free' X86 PCs... 

I find web tv units by the dozen at my local
Goodwill store. Last week I bought an older
Mac in perfect working order, with a 17"
monitor, for $28. I tested it on my DSL
connection; it surfs the web almost as fast
as my new, dual-processor G4.

Technology: Master, or servant?

It is up to you.

==Gene Poole==

Transform 'I' into 'Not-I' and then 'Not-I' will become 'I'.

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Nonduality: The Varieties of Expression Home

Jerry Katz
photography & writings

The wind carves shapes into the beach sand

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