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#4193 - Thursday, March 17, 2011 - Editor: Gloria Lee

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  • Gloria Lee
    #4193 - Thursday, March 17, 2011 - Editor: Gloria Lee The Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights I sit firmly on my dried-up mat,
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 17, 2011

      #4193 - Thursday, March 17, 2011 - Editor: Gloria Lee
      The Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights
       
       
      "I sit firmly on my dried-up mat,
       thoughts dead as ashes,
      When the boy rushes in to announce
      that spring has returned-
      The empty cold smashed to bits,
      the heavens dance with blossoms
      That stir up what I've tried
      all my futile life to still!"
       
      ~Gido Susshin
       
      posted to Daily Dharma by Amrita Nadi
       

       
      A letter from Sendai

      Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to
      have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even
      more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We share
      supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one
      room, eat by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.
       
      During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit
      in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to get
      drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in their
      home, they put out a sign so people can come to fill up their jugs and
      buckets.
       
      It's utterly amazingly that where I am there has been no looting, no pushing
      in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an
      earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it used to be in the
      old days when everyone helped one another."
       
      Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens
      are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.
       
      We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for half
      a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on. But all
      of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not. No one has
      washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much more
      important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of
      non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of caring, of
      what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire group.
       
      There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some
      places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun. People
      lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking their dogs.
      All happening at the same time.
       
      Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No cars.
      No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered with
      stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled. The
      mountains of Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them
      silhouetted against the sky magnificently.
       
      And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to
      check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on, and
      I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from whom,
      but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking to see
      if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they need
      help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic, no.
       
      They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for
      another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking,
      rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is a bit
      elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is better
      off than others. Last night my friend's husband came in from the country,
      bringing food and water. Blessed again.
       
      Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed
      an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world
      right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening
      now in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me
      if I felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't. Rather, I feel as
      part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of
      birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.
       
      Thank you again for your care and Love of me,
       
      With Love in return, to you all, Anne
       
      posted by Anne Thomas on 3/14/2011 11:30 am
       
       

      A spirit of endurance in Japan
       

      I am writing this as I make the decision whether to leave Sendai or not. I
      have just heard that a bus will be available to evacuate American citizens
      from Sendai tomorrow morning. I have not yet made up my mind what I will
      do. I have been in this city for twenty-two years. My life is here.
       
      Earlier this evening I wrote the following essay about my experiences
      during the day:
       
      Life here has become one of living day to day. I am staying with the mother
      of my best friend, Izumi. Her home is two minutes from my unlivable shack.
      Izumi has moved in there, too, as her own home is in shambles after the
      major quake. She goes there daily to straighten things out.
       
      Each morning and evening we watch the news. Our daily lives are nose to
      nose with the immediate world around us, so seeing a larger picture is
      important. But even so, we are much more focused on day-to-day living.
       
      As I said, in the morning Izumi usually heads to her home, while I set out to
      find food. Lack of rice is a big problem. But vegetables and protein are
      also high on the list. I know of a small four-generation grocery store tucked
      way back in a neighborhood with narrow, twisting alleyways. The chain
      stores on main streets are closed or only open a few hours each day due to
      lack of supplies. But smaller ones off the beaten track are more promising.
       
      To my utter amazement and delight, this place was to open at 3:00 p.m. So,
      I joined the line of people waiting for that hope-filled hour. The wind was
      fiercely cold and the wait almost two hours before I was able to enter the
      shop.
       
      Very wisely, the owners were allowing only five people in at one time. They
      had food because of farmer relatives who had brought in a large truck of
      vegetables and fruit earlier in the day. Most places permit people to buy
      only five or ten items, but in this beautiful place, the owners, deep with
      understanding, did not set a limit.
       
      It was such a delight to watch people come out of the shop with bags full of
      such items as potatoes, cabbage, daikon, carrots, yams, and other such
      sturdy vegetables. The look of joy on their faces was palpable. I got my
      share, too, and as I pedaled home on my bicycle, I found another wee shop
      selling two-kilo bags of rice. So it was indeed a fortunate day. When I got
      back to Izumi’s mom’s home, we all laughed and clapped for joy.
       
      Since I will have to move from this shack of mine, I wandered over to a real
      estate office nearby to let them know my desires. Miraculously it was open.
      The woman was there to clean up and also because there was running water.
      There was none in her home and with her daughter’s newborn child, washing
      diapers was a problem. So she scrubbed nappies while we discussed housing
      for me.
       
      Shifting focus off my immediate experiences, please let me continue sharing
      beautiful, life-affirming things that are happening all around. I am
      ceaselessly in awe of the emergency infrastructure here. There are not
      enough supplies, which everyone knows, but the excellently organized
      system is running like clockwork to the best of its stretched abilities.
       
      To give a few examples, evacuation shelters are all over every city. Food,
      water, and heat are there, although very limited. Mats and blankets, again
      in short supply, are also there. People are collecting wood from damaged
      buildings and making fires for heating and cooking. Volunteers welcome
      evacuees and to help in whatever way they can. Firefighters and policemen
      carry the old and injured into shelters on their backs. And shelters have
      designated leaders to head meetings and make decisions.
       
      People in the shelters are supporting one another. They massage each others’
      legs and shoulders, sit in close circles for human contact, read stories to
      kids, or simply hold hands. They are grateful for whatever goodness comes
      their way. “I feel so fortunate. We are able to eat at least once a day,” one
      woman said.
       
      And people are being very creative. Some are out collecting snow in plastic
      bags. The water from it can be used to flush toilets or wash dishes.
       
      Today one young able man, who was helping his parents clean up the remains
      of their home, was called into the reserves. He had no choice, but was not
      happy about this turn of events. But his mother said, “We need him here, of
      course, but his service to others, to many, is more important than for only
      us.”
       
      During the day people go out to search for missing family members. TV
      crews are there, of course, and often stop people for interviews. Emotional
      wounds are deep and vast. People’s intense efforts to contain grief is
      painful to witness. No overt wailing. But tears and silence everywhere.
       
      “Shigata ga nai” is a Japanese expression that roughly translated means, “It
      cannot be helped.” It also implies a sense of enduring what is happening and
      of making the best of whatever situation you are in. That concept is an
      integral part of everyday life here, not only now, but always. This
      emergency situation is surely one of “shigata ga nai”. And everywhere
      people are saying, “We have to soldier on. There is no other way.”
       
      Gambarimashou with Love, Anne
      posted by Anne Thomas on 3/17/2011 2:45 pm
       
      Photo via AP Photo/Kyodo News


       
      "Life is, by nature, constant flow and interaction of numberless elements.
      Nothing ever stays the same, even from one moment to the next. Everything
      is on its way to becoming something else, and therefore, nothing can be held
      onto. If you see this clearly, if you consider and examine this deeply and
      fully, then letting go is the only thing left to do. How can you hold on?
      What is there to hold onto?
       
      So the art of spiritual surrender is really the art of not knowing. Then it
      doesn't make any difference at all whether you are walking down the street
      or eating lunch or responding to your email or making love or sitting alone
      on your couch. This is the first and last time you will ever be doing this. If
      you truly understand that, it changes everything."
       
      ~Scott Morrison
       
      posted to Daily Dharma by Dainen Kelley
       


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