#1918 - Saturday, September 11, 2004
- View Source
Nondual Highlights Issue #1911 Saturday, September 4, 2004 Editor: Mark
and like the keyboard keys
touching my fingers
and the smile widening
and the rain washing this home tonight,
strumming my windows, my roof.
and this deep appreciation
of these continued exchanges
of expression, in all forms & spaces,
including those who remember today,
when the skies were empty of planes,
and those who are here now.
and the myriad feelings of remaining open
when one can no longer close to what is here,
as one releases the hope to share,
knowing what lies within each heart
is what must most beat within that space of being,
knowing that the greater gift is to see than to be seen,
for in this, love gazes back from every, every heart,
every face, unhidden by words or acts.
and oh, the voices that soften,
the eyes that respond, that turn rapt,
overjoyed, shyly glowing back.
wordlessly uttering i know thee.
and it is enough to be.
enough to see.
enough to be
of this love.
this washes everything
within this flood of being
so still, so still, so still.
- Josie Kane on AdyashantSatsang
9/11 those two numbers
are a shorthand for so
much that is unspeakable
this act that exposed our
vulnerability & painted us
as only human though in
our minds we were much
more than that when being
only human is enough
as we sit in this world
composed of wonders & light
and hate & horrors & love
sit exposed even with
our toys & cars & our voices
that stretch across the globe
we're mammals in a flood plain
hunkered down as hurricanes
threaten or enemies slither
beyond the bushes at night &
we look for magic words to banish
all danger while we tell stories of
ancient battles with saber-tooths
& barbarians at the gate & reassure
ourselves that we will survive.
© Zen Oleary
September 11, 2004, posted to SufiMystic
Us And Them
Us and Them
And after all we're only ordinary men
Me, and you
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do
Forward he cried from the rear
and the front rank died
And the General sat, as the lines on the map
moved from side to side
Black and Blue
And who knows which is which and who is who
Up and Down
And in the end it's only round and round and round
Haven't you heard it's a battle of words
the poster bearer cried
Listen son, said the man with the gun
There's room for you inside
Down and Out
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about
And who'll deny that's what the fightings all about
Get out of the way, it's a busy day
And I've got things on my mind
For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died
- Pink Floyd
"Don't say that I will depart tomorrow--
even today I am still arriving.
Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.
I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that is alive.
I am a mayfly metamorphosing on
the surface of the river.
And I am the bird that
swoops down to swallow the mayfly.
I am a frog swimming happily in
the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake that
silently feeds itself on the frog."
I am a terrified one jumping from
blazes behind to cold asphalt below.
And I am the one who plots my death
secretly in ungodly vengeance.
I am the one who ignores licking flames
to push a friend's wheelchair
down the stairs.
And I am the one who says good-bye
to his family knowing he will
never see them again.
I am the one running selflessly
into the smoke following a cry.
And I am the one who boards the plane
knowing it will be his last flight.
I am the one who crosses himself as he
fights up the stairs to rescue.
And I am the one who believes he
is doing Allah's will as he steers
the plane into its horrific end.
I am the ash-covered lucky one who escapes.
And I am the ash-covered one who does not.
I am the one who watches in horror and disbelief;
I am the one who mourns beyond mourning.
And, as much as it tears my heart,
I am the one who cheers.
"My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the vast oceans.
My joy is like Spring,
so warm it makes flowers bloom
all over the Earth.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up and the door
of my heart could be left open,
the door of compassion."
- Thich Nhat Hanh (with inserts by oh) link posted to Dailydharma
There is always a tendency in the mind to personify its
functions. For the last two days there is been a sense of
a large presence everywhere. When looking outward is
there, when looking inward is also there. Despite, that
it brings a sense of great silence and emptiness, the
mind wishes to brand it as something solid which bears a
name, such as Self, That, or whatever. The mind has that
inclination, but thoughts seem like a pile of ashes blown
by the wind, they can' stick to the presence. They fall
silent, and the mind comtemplates it with the intuition
that it includes everything.
No interpretation is needed, all interpretations are
false. It could be called Buddha Nature, and it won't
change a thing, or called, Christ, or This, and not a
thing would be added, or taken away. All names and
thoughts about it seem useless.
- Pete, quoted on SufiMystic by Bill Rishel
bless you, oh beloved,
for inspiring the words of the wise
without which i could not
discard all words.
like thorns removing thorns.
- and after
to melt and to dissolve
within your ever-present
bless you a million times
for revealing to the simple
what is concealed
from the intelligent
- Yosy Flug on SufiMystic
Nasrudin went to a sufi master with a friend. The
Master, wanting to test their spiritual egg, gave each
of them a chicken and told them, "Go kill the chicken
where no one could see and then return."
The friend in 5 minutes came to the Master with a dead
chicken. The Master asked what did he do. He said, "I
went behind a fence where no could see."
The Master smiled.
Nasrudin meanwhile turned up missing...a day and then
a week. The Master sent a search party. Finally
Nasrudin was found still carrying his chicken with
him. He was taken back to the Master who questioned
Nasrudin. "Why did you not kill the chicken?" Nasrudin
replied, "Everywhere I went the chicken could see."
- posted to Nasrudin by Herbie King
do not believe,
wise men say so.
do not believe,
it has always
been that way.
do not believe
- Buddha, Kalama Sutra, posted to MillionPaths by Josie Kane