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#4448 - Thursday, December 8, 2011 - Editor: Gloria Lee

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  • Gloria Lee
    #4448 - Thursday, December 8, 2011 - Editor: Gloria Lee The Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights We are the bees of the
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 9 2:09 PM

      #4448 - Thursday, December 8, 2011 - Editor: Gloria Lee
      The Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights 
      'We are the bees of the invisible. We wildly collect the honey of the
      visible, to store it in the great golden hive of the invisible.'
      ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

      The surest sign of spiritual progress is a total lack of concern about
      progress. There is an utter absence of anxiety about anything like
      liberation and a sort of hollowness in one's being, a kind of looseness
      and involuntary surrender to whatever might happen.
      ~ Ramesh S. Balsekar
      by Tony Cartledge on Facebook

      If I was to translate the enlightened state down into human terms, I'd
      have to describe it as contentment. Being nobody, going nowhere,
      needing no reason to exist. To the ego, that probably sounds a little
      boring, and of course to an ego it is. But then again, there's really
      nothing for the ego in enlightenment. In enlightenment, the egoic false
      self is rendered an irrelevant illusion, a mask, a character that
      nothingness wears while pretending to be human.
      Not only is there nothing in enlightenment for the ego, the ego is the
      defense against enlightenment. I'm not saying that ego is bad or evil
      because it's not. I'm saying that ego is a social and personal construct
      and therefore an illusion. But there's nothing wrong with an illusion.
      A painting is an illusion; a movie is an illusion; a good novel is an
      illusion. The problem isn't with illusion; the problem is with the
      emotional attachments and addictions of ego.
      ~ Adyashanti
      by Kiki Bakshi on Facebook

      Mystic Chat
       by Hakim Sanai
      (1044? - 1150?)
      My dear!
      You haven't the feet
      for this path --
      why struggle?
      You've no idea where
      the idol's to be found --
      what's all this
      mystic chat?
      What can be done
      with quarrelsome
      fellow travelers,
      If you were really a lover
      you'd see that faith and infidelity
      are one...
      Oh, what's the use?
      about such things
      is a hobby for
      numb brains.
      You are pure spirit
      but imagine yourself a corpse!
      pure water which thinks
      it's the pot!
      Everything you want
      must be searched for --
      except the Friend.
      If you don't find Him
      you'll never
      be able
      to start
      to even
      you can be sure:
      You are not Him --
      you can remove yourself
      from between
      and Him --
      in which case
      English version by
      Peter Lamborn Wilson and Nasrollah Pourjavady

      One of the most famous phrases popularized by Horace is carpe diem,
      sometimes translated as "seize the day." Carpe diem comes from
      Horace's Ode I-XI, the 11 ode in his first book.
      Heather McHugh translated one ode:
      "Get wise. Get wine, and one good filter for it.
      Cut that high hope down to size, and pour it
      into something fit for men. Think less
      of more tomorrows, more of this
      one second, endlessly unique: it's
      jealous, even as we speak, and it's
      about to split again ..."
      from The Writer's Almanac

      photo by Peter Shefler
      The world does not need words. It articulates itself
      in sunlight, leaves, and shadows. The stones on the path
      are no less real for lying uncatalogued and uncounted.
      The fluent leaves speak only the dialect of pure being.
      The kiss is still fully itself though no words were spoken.
      And one word transforms it into something less or other --
      illicit, chaste, perfunctory, conjugal, covert.
      Even calling it a kiss betrays the fluster of hands
      glancing the skin or gripping a shoulder, the slow
      arching of neck or knee, the silent touching of tongues.
      Yet the stones remain less real to those who cannot
      name them, or read the mute syllables graven in silica.
      To see a red stone is less than seeing it as jasper --
      metamorphic quartz, cousin to the flint the Kiowa
      carved as arrowheads. To name is to know and remember.
      The sunlight needs no praise piercing the rainclouds,
      painting the rocks and leaves with light, then dissolving
      each lucent droplet back into the clouds that engendered it.
      The daylight needs no praise, and so we praise it always --
      greater than ourselves and all the airy words we summon.
      ~ Dana Gioia
      (Interrogations at Noon)
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