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#4425 - Sunday, November 13, 2011

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  • Mark
    Archived issues of the NDHighlights are available online: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm Nonduality Highlights: Issue
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 14, 2011
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      Archived issues of the NDHighlights are available online: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm

      Nonduality Highlights: Issue #4425, Sunday, November 13, 2011





      The reality and permanence of the object that one imagines oneself to be is an illusory continuity like that of a river, which appears to remain the same yet is composed of entirely different water from one moment to the next.

      - Ramesh S. Balsekar, posted to Distillation




      It's Not Your Life

      It's not your life you said
      And I remember exactly where we were
      Not the time of year
      Or even the weather
      But the place on the levee
      With the river on the right
      As we walked back
      And the rusty pump
      Down the bank
      Among the rocks
      And the kingfisher
      Cackling in the cottonwoods

      And you were fierce
      The way you said it
      Not detached and indifferent
      Like the night before in Forestville
      But frustrated almost
      Wanting me to get it
      Urging me to catch up
      So we can play together
      On the same court

      And I felt so ashamed
      For complaining
      For having the selfishness
      To claim this series of events
      As my own
      To doubt the authorship
      Of this particular short story
      And the meanness
      To question
      The hand I was dealt
      When it was not even mine
      And I knew it

      But mainly I was ashamed
      For showing you my ugliness
      For letting you see
      My limbs bleeding with the pain
      Of not getting it

      But we played big stick with Honey
      And walked on
      Back to the car
      Between the vineyards
      Watching the evening settle over Healdsburg
      And slowly my life became a memory
      A series of shots
      Like this one
      With no place left to ask the question
      Then whose life is it

      For it's not that it's not my life
      Over the hills and down the river
      Houses friends and harpsichords
      Whose life could it be
      But mine
      No we're not disputing that

      (Distracted for a moment
      By the cry of an osprey
      From the redwood
      Looking back
      At the place
      Where the pain and the pleasure
      Were mine
      To avoid or pursue)

      What we're saying
      Back at the car now
      Honey climbing in
      Doors closing
      Click of seat belts
      Engine starting
      The sudden contentment
      Of nothing left to talk about
      Is that
      This simple crunch
      Of tires on gravel
      This hum of happiness
      This wet dog smell
      Is life
      Delivered
      But unaddressed

      - Tony Kendrew




      Then who am I?

      If this me is not I, then
      who am I?
      If I am not the one who speaks, then
      who does?
      If this me is only a robe then
      who is
      the one I am covering?

      - Rumi, from Rumi: Hidden Music, translated by Azima Melita Kolin and Maryam Mafi, posted to AlongTheWay




      Love
      is a magician.
      Everything it touches
      turns into
      itself.

      - Pamela Wilson




      Let Love Wash You

      When you wash, let love wet you.
      When hungry, eat love.
      Dress in love from head to foot
      Tread love that squishes between your toes.
      What else could mix light with shade
      into these billion rippling forms?
      See it, savor it, or not,
      as you please.

      But if you get full like this
      a secret smile wears you,
      You're like one who sees rainbows, day and night.
      Then nothing is needed and all that comes, satisfies.

      - Paul Chubbuck




      Reverie

      To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
      One clover, and a bee.
      And revery.
      The revery alone will do,
      If bees are few.

      - Emily Dickenson




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