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#3117 - Wednesday, March 26, 2008 - Editor: Gloria Lee

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  • Gloria Lee
    #3117 - Wednesday, March 26, 2008 - Editor: Gloria Lee Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights Don t love sagehood; sagehood is an
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 26, 2008
      #3117 - Wednesday, March 26, 2008 - Editor: Gloria Lee
      Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights
      Don't love sagehood; sagehood is an empty name.
      There is no special truth but this radiant spiritual openness,
      unobstructed and free.
      It is not attained by adornment and cultivated realization.
      From the buddhas to the Zen masters,
      all have transmitted this teaching,
      by which they attained liberation.


      Teachings of Zen, page 26
      posted to Awakened Awareness by Ben Hassine


      [324] Beg for Love.

      By Abu-Said Abil-Kheir
      (967 - 1049)

      English version by Vraje Abramian

      Beg for Love.
      Consider this burning, and those who
      burn, as gifts from the Friend.
      Nothing to learn.
      Too much has already been said.
      When you read a single page from
      the silent book of your heart,
      you will laugh at all this chattering,
      all this pretentious learning.

      -- from Nobody, Son of Nobody: Poems of Shaikh Abu-Saeed Abil-Kheir, Translated by Vraje Abramian


      Excerpted from: STILLNESS SPEAKS
      By Eckhart Tolle

      We depend on nature not only for our physical survival. We also need nature to show us the way home, the way out of the prison of our own minds. We got lost in doing, thinking, remembering, anticipating - lost in a maze of complexity and a world of problems.

      We have forgotten what rocks, plants, and animals still know. We have forgotten how to be - to be still, to be ourselves, to be where life is: Here and Now.

      Whenever you bring your attention to anything natural, anything that has come into existence without human intervention, you step out of the prison of conceptualized thinking and, to some extent, participate in the state of connectedness with Being in which everything natural still exists.

      To bring your attention to a stone, a tree, or an animal does not mean to think about it, but simply to perceive it, to hold it in your awareness.

      Something of its essence then transmits itself to you. You can sense how still it is, and in doing so the same stillness arises within you. You sense how deeply it rests in Being - completely at one with what it is and where it is. In realizing this, you too come to a place of rest deep within yourself.

      When walking or resting in nature, honor that realm by being there fully. Be still. Look. Listen. See how every animal and every plant is completely itself. Unlike humans, they have not split themselves in two. They do not live through mental images of themselves, so they do not need to be concerned with trying to protect and enhance those images. The deer is itself. The daffodil is itself.

      All things in nature are not only one with themselves but also one with the totality. They haven't removed themselves from the fabric of the whole by claiming a separate existence: "me" and the rest of the universe.

      The contemplation of nature can free you of that "me," the great troublemaker.

      Bring awareness to the many subtle sounds of nature - the rustling of leaves in the wind, raindrops falling, the humming of an insect, the first birdsong at dawn. Give yourself completely to the act of listening. Beyond the sounds there is something greater: a sacredness that cannot be understood through thought.


      posted to TheNow_2 & Wisdom-l

      Some stories last many centuries,
      others only a moment.
      All alter over that lifetime like beach-glass,
      grow distant and more beautiful with salt.
      Yet even today, to look at a tree
      and ask the story Who are you? is to be transformed.
      There is a stage in us where each being, each thing, is a mirror.
      Then the bees of self pour from the hive-door,
      ravenous to enter the sweetness of flowering nettles and thistle.
      Next comes the ringing a stone or violin or empty bucket
      gives off—
      the immeasurable’s continuous singing,
      before it goes back into story and feeling.
      In Borneo, there are palm trees that walk on their high roots.
      Slowly, with effort, they lift one leg then another.
      I would like to join that stilted transmigration,
      to feel my own skin vertical as theirs:
      an ant-road, a highway for beetles.
      I would like not minding, whatever travels my heart.
      To follow it all the way into leaf-form, bark-furl, root-touch,
      and then keep walking, unimaginably further.
      ~ Jane Hirshfield ~
      (Given Sugar, Given Salt)

      Dear Friends
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