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#2302 - Monday, October 31, 2005 - Editor: Gloria Lee

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  • Gloria Lee
    #2302 - Monday, October 31, 2005 - Editor: Gloria Lee Highlights Home Page and Archive: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm Letter to the Editors: Click Reply
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      #2302 - Monday, October 31, 2005 - Editor: Gloria Lee
       
       

      Highlights Home Page and Archive: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm 
      Letter to the Editors: Click 'Reply' on your email program, compose your message, and 'Send'. All the editors will see your letter.
       
       

       
      Blessed by the Truth
       
      From the time there appears in this world one who has seen the truth, a fully awakened one, blessed by the truth, abounding in happiness, a teacher of wisdom and goodness, a buddha. He, by himself, thoroughly knows and sees this universe, and knowing it, makes his knowledge known to others. The truth, lovely in its origin, lovely in its progress, lovely in its consummation, he proclaims. A new life he makes known, in all its fullness.

      -Tevigga Sutta
      From "The Pocket Buddha Reader," edited by Anne Bancroft, 2001.
       
      from Beliefnet
       

       
       
      Today my neighbor J. walked into the garden and told me he nearly died of cancer, he had been three weeks in hospital and had undergone surgery. I was shocked to see him in the state he was compared to the end of September. I was typing texts on compassion and enlightenment oblivious of the fact that my neighbor was fighting to stay alive and not leave his family behind so unexpected—which as he told me was his main concern. I don’t have words for it at the moment.
      I intuited he was afraid to be alone in his house when his wife and son were not there, so he just walked in. It is hard to be alone sometimes I was thinking aloud.

      So the man just walked into the garden when he saw the three of us arriving home in the car. The first thing he said was how beautiful our daughter is. There was certain awareness in what he said—it was not about our daughter, it was something of a different order. There was a certain appreciation and clarity in his slow gestures and tender, bright smile—weak as he was.

      We had a very light hearted, humorous, zen-like talk on life and death and we reached out to each other. It was such a beautiful day—it is the end of October but it could have been spring or the beginning of August. I’ll never forget it. And may I be forsaken if I’ll ever forget it. I WILL BEAR WITNESS. I WILL BEAR WITNESS. YOU MAY REMEMBER THAT. I’LL BEAR WITNESS OF EVERY TEAR AND SMILE IN THE WORLD. JUST BECAUSE IT IS IMPOSSIBLE: I’LL BEAR WITNESS.

      We will go for walks together. He’ll have to undergo chemo and I offered him to go for walks or help him with chores in and around the farmhouse he is rebuilding and won’t be able during that period. What can I say? What can I offer?
      Just because there is no suffering I’ll volunteer to bear witness, to live. Just because there is the unconditioned I’ll enter the condition opened, vulnerable and awake.
      However I was not there for his wife and son when he was in the hospital. I correspond with people from all over the world and I am not ‘aware’ to what is happening 20 meters away from where I sit?
      I know I can go deeper, must go deeper into impossibility. There is no end to it.
       
       
      Today Avalokiteshvara walked into the garden. Where was I?
       
      ‘Ben?’
       
      ‘Yes!’
       
      ‘Bear witness’
       
      ‘Yes—though it is impossible I will!’
       
      ‘Good. I am with you. I’ll bear witness too. I will never forget you.’
       
      --bow--
       
       
      posted by Ben Hassine
       


      Here's your Daily Poem from the Poetry Chaikhana --

      Too Many Names

      By Pablo Neruda
      (1904 - 1973)

      Mondays are meshed with Tuesdays
      and the week with the whole year.
      Time cannot be cut
      with your weary scissors,
      and all the names of the day
      are washed out by the waters of night.

      No one can claim the name of Pedro,
      nobody is Rosa or Maria,
      all of us are dust or sand,
      all of us are rain under rain.
      They have spoken to me of Venezuelas,
      of Chiles and of Paraguays;
      I have no idea what they are saying.
      I know only the skin of the earth
      and I know it is without a name.

      When I lived amongst the roots
      they pleased me more than flowers did,
      and when I spoke to a stone
      it rang like a bell.

      It is so long, the spring
      which goes on all winter.
      Time lost its shoes.
      A year is four centuries.

      When I sleep every night,
      what am I called or not called?
      And when I wake, who am I
      if I was not while I slept?

      This means to say that scarcely
      have we landed into life
      than we come as if new-born;
      let us not fill our mouths
      with so many faltering names,
      with so many sad formalities,
      with so many pompous letters,
      with so much of yours and mine,
      with so much of signing of papers.

      I have a mind to confuse things,
      unite them, bring them to birth,
      mix them up, undress them,
      until the light of the world
      has the oneness of the ocean,
      a generous, vast wholeness,
      a crepitant fragrance.

      ============

      Thought for the Day:

      Your life needs one crucial ingredient:

      you!

      ============

      Here's your Daily Music selection --


      Vishwa Mohan Bhatt

      Indian Delta

      Listen - Purchase

      More Music Selections

       


      Introduction
      by Gloria Lee

      One of the true joys of the internet is discovering and meeting some delightful person you would otherwise never know. Such is Dusan Pajin, an author, an artist, and a scholar of Buddhist and Eastern philosophy and art. One may see on his webpage 70 paintings from an exhibition in Taiwan in 1996, so only a couple of examples are shown here. Keeping culture alive in times of war shows us the best of the human spirit. Perhaps this is easily seen in art and music and intellectual pursuits. Though his exquisite vision is most evident through his artwork, may I share only one small story of his that serves as an introduction to Dusan Pajin's inner seeing.

      A Story from Dusan

      "Several days ago I entered a bookshop in the Belgrade city. Inside was a woman in conversation with the saleswoman. Her son - perhaps a boy of four- noticed me. He addressed me: See, I have got some sweets he said and showed me a little box with sweets (I believe it is the brand known as "M 'n' M's"). I said: "Yes, I see." Then he opened the little round tube, and said with simplicity (praised as the highest spiritual goal by Taoist, Zen, Sufi and Christian masters): "Do, have one". I was caught by surprise, and said: "No, thanks, not today - perhaps, next time when I meet you". Actually, I was confused, and overwhelmed with joy - as a Christian would be, on entering paradise, or a Taoist, when reaching the island of immortals. I thought - maybe this is it: maybe this is the good omen, for which I was craving since 1991 - when the Yugoslav fratricide bloodshed started - may be this is a sign that things are taking a different turn, since 1991... This joy was with me for several days."

      entire article:

      http://www.harshasatsangh.com/LunarPages/archive/Magazine/dusan-f.htm

       


      Wondrous Power of Kuan-yin



      KUAN-YIN

      They say you cannot say
      When will she appear,
      Wherefrom will she come.
      For ages I searched perfections
      In old sutra
      I saw them exemplified in sculptures
      On the bodhisattva faces.
      In time of great need
      Surrounded by cruelty and suffering
      Immersed in the great destruction
      Complaining about my karma
      On a rainy afternoon
      Suddenly I met Kuan Yin.
      Claiming to be ignorant of Buddhism
      She manifested perfections
      Demonstrating Compassion
      Giving free lessons in kindness,
      Wisdom in disguise
      With virtue complete.

      Dusan Pajin




      --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      Wondrous Powers
      Hands formed of light and dreams
      A touch of another world

      Vid Vukasovic

      Copyright © 1997 Dusan Pajin. All Rights Reserved.

       

      http://www.harshasatsangh.com/LunarPages/archive/Magazine/dusan-f2.htm


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