#4497 - Sunday, January 29, 2012
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Nonduality Highlights: Issue #4497, Sunday, January 29, 2012
When you realize how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky.
- Buddha, posted to DailyDharma
To be anxious is to wear oneself out. To seek power or to use force is to overstrain one's system.
- Ramesh Balsekar, posted to ANetofJewels
After all, there is no such thing as mind apart from thoughts which come and go obeying their own laws, not yours. They dominate you only because you are interested in them. It is exactly as Christ said "Resist not evil." By resisting evil, you merely strengthen it.
- Nisargadatta Maharaj, posted to ANetofJewels
The eyes of a saint are always concentrated on the supreme Self. The minute his is aware of himself, sainthood is lost.
- Neem Karoli Baba, from Miracle of Love,by Ram Dass
Pain comes from seeing how arrogant you've been, and
pain brings you out of this
conceit. A child cannot be born until the mother has pain.
You are pregnant with real
trust. The words of the prophets and saints are midwives
that help, but first you must feel
pain. To be without pain is to use the first person wrongly.
"I" am this. "I" am that.
"I" am God, like al-Hallaj, who waited till that was true to
say it. "I" at the wrong
time brings a curse. "I" at the right time gives a blessing.
If a rooster crows early,
when it's still dark, he must have his head cut off. What is
this beheading? As one might
extract a scorpion's sting to save it, or a snake's venom to
keep it from being stoned,
headlessness comes from your cleansing connection to
a teacher. Hold to
a true sheikh. Strength will come. Your strength is his
gathering you closer. Soul
of the soul of the soul, moment to moment, hope to draw breath
from that one. No matter
how long you've been apart. That presence has no separation
in it. Do you want to understand more about this friendship?
Read the sura called Daybreak.
- Rumi, Mathnawi II: 2817-43, version by Coleman Barks, from The Soul of Rumi, posted to Sunlight
On the tidal mud, just before sunset,
dozens of starfishes
were creeping. It was
as though the mud were a sky
and enormous, imperfect stars
moved across it as slowly
as the actual stars cross heaven.
All at once they stopped,
and, as if they had simply
increased their receptivity
to gravity, they sank down
into the mud, faded down
into it and lay still, and by the time
pink of sunset broke across them
they were as invisible
as the true stars at daybreak.
- Galway Kinnell