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#1943 - Friday, October 8, 2004 - Editor: Gloria Lee
life is a garden,
not a road
we enter and exit
through the same gate
where we go matters less
than what we notice
~ Bokonon ~
(The Lost Book)
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Gill Eardley ~ Allspirit Inspiration
Direct your eye right inward and you will find
a thousand regions in your mind
yet undiscovered, travel them and be
expert in home-cosmography.
Ben Hassine ~ Awakened Awareness
It is arduous to look at ourselves in fearless honesty, uninfluenced by ideas and images of what we are or should be. It is easier to cling to the apparent security of our automatic patterns of thinking and reacting, but these inevitably bring conflict and sorrow. Only with clear and immediate insight can the mind begin to free itself from its conditioning, opening up to the depth of understanding that is compassion.
"Flock of Crows" by Al Larus: http://www.ferryfee.com/bluesky/flock_of_crows.htm
Viorica Weissman ~ MillionPaths
Dec 30th 1961, Rajghat-Benares
crows were fighting, they were viciously angry with each other;
there was fury in their voices, both were on the ground but one
had the advantage driving its hard, black beak into the other.
Shouting at them from the window did no good and one was going to
be killed. A passing crow dived in suddenly breaking its flight,
calling, cawing more loudly than the two on the ground; it landed
beside them, beating its black, shiny wings against them. In a
second, half a dozen more crows came, all cawing away furiously
and several of them with their wings and beaks separated the two
who were intent on killing each other. They might kill other
birds, other things, but there was going to be no murder amongst
their own kind and that would be the end of them all. The two
still wanted to fight it out but the others were telling them off
and presently they all flew away and there was quietness in the
little open space among the trees by the river. It was late in
the afternoon, the sun was behind the trees and the really bitter
cold was gone and all the birds, all day were singing, calling
and making all those pleasant sounds they do. Parrots were flying
in crazily for the night; it was a bit early but they were coming
in; the large tamarind tree could hold quite a lot of them; their
colour was almost the colour of the leaves but their green was
more intense, more alive; if you watched carefully you would see
the difference and also you would see their brilliant curving be
which they used to bite and to climb; they were rather clumsy
among the branches, going from one to the other but they were the
light of heavens in movement; their voices were harsh and sharp,
and their flight never straight, but their colour was the spring
of the earth. Earlier, in the morning, on a branch of that tree,
two small owls were sunning themselves, facing the rising sun;
they were so still you would not have noticed them, they were the
colour of the branch, mottled grey, unless by chance, you saw
them coming out of their hole in the tamarind tree. It had been
bitterly cold, most unusual, and two golden green flycatchers
dropped dead that morning from the cold; one was the male and the
other female, they must have been mates; they died on the same
instant and they were still soft to the touch. They were really
golden green, with long, curving bills; they were so delicate, so
extraordinarily alive still. Colour is very strange; colour is
god and those two were the glory of light; the colour would
remain, though the machinery of life had come to an end. Colour
was more enduring than the heart; it was beyond time and sorrow.
But thought can never solve the ache of sorrow. You can reason in and out but it would be there still after the long, complicated journey of thought. Thought can never resolve human problems; thought is mechanical and sorrow is not. Sorrow is as strange as love, but sorrow keeps away love. You can resolve sorrow completely but you cannot invite love. Sorrow is self-pity with all its anxieties, fears, guilt but all this cannot be washed away by thought. Thought breeds the thinker and between them sorrow is begotten. The ending of sorrow is the freedom from the known.
Alan Jacobs ~ HarshaSatsangh
if one knows the truth of Love,
which is the real nature of the Self,
will the strong entangled knot
of life, be untied.
Only if one attains the height of love
will liberation be attained
The experience of Self is only Love
Which is seeing only love,
hearing only love,
feeling only love,
tasting only love,
and smelling only love,
which is bliss .
Quoted by David Godman
in 'Be As You Are ' Page 88
Chapter on Surrender
Life is a pure flame,and we live
by an invisible Sun within us.
Along the Way
Approaching the Self is like walking on a razor's
edge: Two cannot go there, you can't even bring
your mind or a thought. So the only One who can
help you is Self. Anything that touches this Flame
becomes Flame. Touch a Sage and you become
a Sage, knowing Self you see only Self and this
Self is your Teacher.
` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `
"The Truth Is"
Sri H.W.L. Poonja
Viorica Weissman ~ MillionPaths
40 The splendour of being-consciousness which is easy to know and which deserves to be known is shining as pure being.
Question: When a man realises the Self, what will he see?
Bhagavan: There is no seeing, seeing is only being. The state of Self-realisation, as we call it, is not attaining something new or reaching some goal which is far away, but simply being that which you always are and which you always have been. All that is needed is that you give up your realisation of the not-true as true. All of us are realising, i.e., regarding as real that which is not real. We have only to give up this practice on our part. Then we shall realise the Self as the Self. In other words, Be the Self. At one stage one would laugh at oneself that one tried to discover the Self which is so self-evident. So, what can we say to this question?
PADAMALAI Teachings of Sri Ramana Maharshi Recorded by Muruganar edited by David Godman p. 88
Sam Pasciencier ~ nondualnow
moment you start seeing life as non-serious, a playfulness, all
the burden on your heart disappears. All the fear of death, of
life, of love - everything disappears. One starts living with a
very light weight or almost no weight. So weightless one becomes,
one can fly in the open sky.
Zen's greatest contribution is to give you an alternative to the serious man. The serious man has made the world, the serious man has made all the religions. He has created all the philosophies, all the cultures, all the moralities; everything that exists around you is a creation of the serious man. Zen has dropped out of the serious world. It has created a world of its own which is very playful, full of laughter, where even great masters behave like children.
Osho Nansen: The Point of Departure Chapter 8
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