Nonduality: The Varieties of Expression Home

Jerry Katz
photography & writings

Search over 5000 pages on Nonduality:

Click here to go to the next issue

Highlights Home Page | Receive the Nondual Highlights each day

#2227 - Wednesday, August 10, 2005 - Editor: Gloria Lee  

A gold Buddha can't get through a furnace, a wood Buddha can't get through a fire, and a clay Buddha can't get through water. The real Buddha sits within: enlightenment, nirvana, suchness, and Buddha-nature are all clothes sticking to the body.

From "The Pocket Zen Reader," edited by Thomas Cleary, 1999  

August in Oregon by John Steinberg from photo album:      

And everything comes to One,
        As we dance on, dance on, dance on.

                               - Theodore Roethke   ~   ~   ~          

Belief, any belief, is based on the sense of
        insecurity.  Only when all belief is given
        up are you free to know yourself.  In self-
        discovery what you find is the Truth - that
        Truth which is total, self-evident and
        which needs no outside support or justi-

                               - Ramesh S. Balsekar

posted to Along the Way  


  "I built my cottage among the habitations of men,
And yet there is no clamor of carriages and horses.
You ask: 'Sir, how can this be done?'
'A heart that is distant creates its own solitude.'
I pluck chrysanthemums under the eastern hedge,
Then gaze afar towards the southern hills.
The mountain air is fresh at the dusk of day;
The flying birds in flocks return.
In these things there lies a deep meaning;
I want to tell it, but have forgotten the words."
~Tao YuanMing
  posted to Daily Dharma  



"When effort is needed, effort will appear.
When effortlessness becomes essential,
it will assert itself. You need not push
life about. Just flow with it and give
yourself completely to the task of the
present moment, which is the dying now
to the now. For living is dying. Without
death life cannot be."

~Nisargadatta Maharaj

Source unknown.
posted to Daily Dharma  


August in Oregon by John Steinberg from photo album:  

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea.

--e. e. cummings   poem posted by Steve Toth on unsaymyself

top of page