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#2073 - Saturday, March 5, 2004 - Editor: Gloria

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  • Gloria Lee
    Nondual Highlights #2073 - Saturday, March 5, 2004 - Editor: Gloria Highlights Home Page and Archive: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm I think that all poets
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 5 9:41 PM
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      Nondual Highlights #2073 - Saturday, March 5, 2004 - Editor: Gloria 

      Highlights Home Page and Archive: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm 

       

      "I think that all poets are sending religious messages, because poetry is, in such great part, the comparison of one thing to another... and to insist, as all poets do, that all things are related to each other, comparable to each other, is to go toward making an assertion of the unity of all things."
       
      - Richard Wilbur
       
       

      THE SKY'S SHEETS

      When He touches me I clutch the sky's sheets,
      the way other
      lovers
      do

      the earth's weave
      of clay.

      Any real ecstasy is a sign
      you are moving
      in the right
      direction,

      don't let any prude tell
      you otherwise.

      - St. Theresa



       
      Your true substance is concealed in falsehood,
      like the taste of butter in buttermilk.
      Your falsehood is this perishable body;
      your truth is that exalted spirit.
      For many years, this buttermilk of the body,
      is visible and manifest, while the butter, which is the spirit,
      is perishing and ignored within it-
      until God sends a prophet, a chosen servant,
      a shaker of the buttermilk in the churn,
      who skillfully shakes it, so that you might know
      your true self which was hidden.

      - Rumi  [Mathnawi  IV, 3030-3034]
      'Jewels of Remembrance' Camille and Kabir Helminski



       
      Reality as it is becomes the right view of the meditator. Thinking of it as it is becomes the right thought. Awareness of it as it is becomes the right awareness. Concentration on it as it is becomes the right concentration. Actions of the body and speech are then aligned to reality as it is. In this way the meditator develops and is fulfilled.

      - Majjhima Nikaya
      From "Buddha Speaks," edited by Anne Bancroft, 2000
       

       
       
       
              Time is in the mind, space is in the mind.
              The law of cause and effect is also a way of
              thinking.  In reality all is here and now and
              all is one.  Multiplicity and diversity are in
              the mind only.
         
                                  - Nisargadatta Maharaj

       

       
               Your strongest held beliefs about "how things
              are" will draw into your life those very experiences
              that will work to support and prove your strongest
              held beliefs about "how things are."

              The Universe loves you so completely that it¹s
              compelled to present itself to you in ways that will
              tend to validate your strongest held beliefs - no matter
              how self-limiting or off-the-wall those beliefs might be.
         
              In short, the Universe wants to make you right.
       
                                     - Chuck Hillig

       

       

      What I point out to you is only that
      You shouldn’t allow yourselves
      To be confused by others.
      Act when you need to,
      Without further hesitation or doubt.
      People today can’t do this.
      What is their affliction?
      Their affliction is in their
      Lack of self-confidence.
      If you do not spontaneously
      Trust yourself sufficiently,
      You will be in a frantic state,
      Pursuing all sorts of objects
      And being changed by those objects,
      Unable to be independent.

      - Linji (d.867


       
      You can say anything you want, yessir, but it's the words that sing,
      they soar and descend . . . I bow to them . . . I love them, I cling to
      them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down . . . I love
      words so much . . . The unexpected ones . . . The ones I wait for
      greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop . . . Vowels I love . . .
      They glitter like colored stones, they leap like silver fish, they are
      foam, thread, metal, dew . . . I run after certain words . . . They
      are so beautiful that I want to fit them all into my poem . . . I
      catch them in midflight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them,
      peel them, I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline
      texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like
      algae, like agates, like olives . . . And I stir them, I shake them,
      I drink them, I gulp them down, I mash them, I garnish them, I let
      them go . . . I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers
      of polished wood, like coals, pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from
      the waves . . . Everything exists in the word . . .

      From Memoirs by Pablo Neruda (NY: Penguin, 1974), p. 53.
       
       



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