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Ramana Maharsh's Death experience and Yoga Nidra
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Nonduality Highlights: Issue #3847, Saturday, March 27, 2010, Editor: Mark
In the presence of Sangha, In the light of Dharma,
In oneness with Buddha - may
my path to complete enlightenment
In this passing moment karma ripens
and all things come to be.
I vow to affirm what is:
If there's cost, I choose to pay.
If there's need, I choose to give.
If there's pain, I choose to feel.
If there's sorrow, I choose to grieve.
When calm, I choose peace.
When starving, I choose hunger.
When happy, I choose joy.
Whom I encounter, I choose to meet.
What I shoulder, I choose to bear.
When it's my birth, I choose to live.
When it's my death, I choose to die.
Where this takes me, I choose to go.
Being with what is, I respond to what is.
This life is as real as a dream;
The one who knows it can not be found;
and truth is not a thing, therefore I vow
to choose this Dharma entrance gate.
May all Buddhas and Wise Ones
help me live this vow.
- Shodo Harada Roshi, posted to DailyDharma
Embrace the Wheel
On the grit of mortality
It is heavy.
Lightened by goodness
let it roll.
Break for innocence.
Renewed as a child.
Embrace the wheel,
but make it sing in its tracks.
- Roy Nuzzo, posted to Allspirit
Once the blossoms are gone, the fruit becomes visible;
when one fades away, the other starts to grow.
How could bread give strength without being broken?
How could the grape give wine without being trodden?
- Rumi. Mathnawi I, 2930-31, version by Muriel Maufroy from Breathing Truth - Quotations from Jalaluddin Rumi, posted to Sunlight
Drumsound rises on the air,
its throb, my heart.
A voice inside the beat
says, "I know you're tired,
but come. This is the way."
- Rumi, version by Coleman Barks from Birdsong, posted to AlongTheWay
the tired wanderer
loses the strength to go on
and in surrendering to hopelessness
to finally feel at home
the hurried creek
pauses in a cold, stony pool
and in sudden stillness
at the distant ocean
the frightened warrior
decides, "I am ready to die"
and in willing abandon
the fitful breeze
fades to calm in the afternoon heat
and in catching its breath
as undying tradewinds
the troubled philosopher
finds nothing to believe in
and in unexpected silence
at the still unanswered questions
the restless sea
becomes smooth and mirrors the clouds
and in ceasing all motion
its own depths
the saddened lover
faces the loss of illusion once again
and in dying to passion
falls in love
with love itself
the weary sun
sinks into the embrace of the horizon
and in resting at last
welcomes other shores
to a new day
- Nirmala, from Gifts with No Giver: a love affair with truth
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