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#1648 - Tuesday, December 16, 2003

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  • Jerry Katz
    #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
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 18, 2003
      #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

      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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