#4785 - Thursday, December 13,
2012 - Editor: Gloria Lee
One instant is eternity;
eternity is the now.
When you see
through this one instant,
you see through the one who sees.
~ Wu Men
via Kia Pierce on Facebook
"We must not complain that all things be fleeting.
which is most transient, if it really touches us,
awakens within us
something that is lasting."
~ Friedrich Hebbel
Russian photographer Andrew Osokin is a master of winter macro
Among his most impressive shots are photographs of individual
have fallen upon the ground and are in the process of
melting away. More:
How do you let go of attachments to things?
Don't even try. It's impossible.
Attachment to things drops away by itself
when you no longer seek to find
yourself in them.
~ Eckart Tolle
Passion Fruit Flower
When mortals are alive, they worry about
When they're full, they worry about hunger.
Theirs is the Great
But sages don't consider the past.
And they don't worry about the future.
they cling to the present.
And from moment to moment they follow the
Zen Poems, Haiku & Writings on
When we begin to see that black mud and white
snow are neither ugly
nor beautiful, when we can see them without
discrimination or duality,
then we begin to grasp Great Compassion.
~ Thich Nhat Hanh
About twenty years ago, a close friend and I
drove to southern Virginia to
attend a retreat led by Vietnamese Zen teacher
Thich Nhat Hanh. At the closing
ceremony, he asked us to choose a partner
I turned to face my friend and
bow to each other. He then instructed us to
hug our partner while taking three
conscious and full in-breaths and
out-breaths. With the first breath, he said to
reflect: Im going to die;
with the second, Youre going to die; and with the
third, And we have
just these precious moments. After slowly releasing our
embrace, my friend
and I looked at each other through our tears. Thich Nhat
Hanh had, in a
beautiful way, turned us toward the refuge of truth.
~ Tara Brach
Mind Wanting More
Only a beige
slat of sun
above the horizon, like a shade pulled
not quite down.
clouds. Sea rippled here and
reluctant to fly.
The mind wants a shaft of sun to
stir the grey
porridge of clouds,
an osprey to stitch sea to sky
with its barred
wings, some dramatic
music: a symphony, perhaps
a Chinese gong.
But the mind always
wants more than it has --
bright day of sun,
one more clear night in bed
with the moon; one more
to get the words right; one
more chance for the heart in hiding
to emerge from its thicket
in dried grasses -- as if this quiet day
with its tentative light weren't enough,
as if joy weren't strewn all
~ Holly Hughes