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NDS highlights for Saturday, Sept 23

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  • Melody
    JIVANO: Imperfection is the makeup we put onto the face of truth, because we are having ideas about how the Beloved should look like. I once met a man with
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 24, 2000

      Imperfection is the makeup we put onto the face
      of truth, because we are having ideas about how
      the Beloved should look like.

      I once met a man with shining eyes and a laughing heart.
      He told me he had had the best teacher possible:
      his father, who was a drunkard and used to beat him
      up without any reason.

      "The best teacher possible" - he meant it.



      In South Africa, a lot of white people I know go now go around saying
      never been a racialist, but..." before launching into complaints about
      rule. My reaction is : Wow! They're in such denial! Wow! I'm not
      that!! Wow! I could teach them a thing or two, come to think of it,
      could become the new messiah!!!
      Altogether more sobering to look inside and realise, I too am that.



      Beloved friends,

      Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.
      Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.
      Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.
      A long way from home,
      A long long way from home.

      May you all find your way home,



      The tears you shed
      Lie as pearls upon the grass.

      Turning back to glance
      Seeing where you've been
      Your pearls lie there
      In the endless dew.

      A string of beauty lost
      Among all the pearls
      Dropped in laughter and pain
      In the garden of reality
      On the dawning of your day
      Your day of awakening.

      Now the early dawn holds promise
      In the shimmering air of your dream
      The light strikes out and across
      The dewdrops shout with joy
      You shout with laughter
      A crow calls out just to join your heart
      A smile is on your lips
      Knowing you've never left your home!



      Now I am reading this, and where does it lead, I am beginning to
      wonder, as I follow this sentence as it wraps around in this window
      on my computer screen.

      I see these little letters, words, sentences, paragraphs, and I look
      and read and I am finding some meaning now, but so far, not much
      meaning, just a lot of words, talking about words and reading.

      But now I read this special meaning, which is to alert me to listen
      to whose voice is speaking very quietly in my 'head-space', which is
      right behind my eyes and between my temples. Now this is getting
      interesting enough to continue reading, I hear the voice saying as I
      read this now.

      As I read what is above, I became distracted by a confusion of
      wording, I wish the author would let me read clearly what is said,
      but I must also remind myself that I am somehow speaking this in a
      voice inside myself, as I read these words here now.

      So now I have to have my attention split; I am to read and also hear,
      I hear this as I read it. But now I ask, what is this strange game,
      which lures me to read, and to have my attention drawn to what is
      going on in me as I read this?

      Of course this is my voice I am hearing, but these words are now
      speaking it for me... this is a bit strange. I have never before
      thought of this, this happens when I read, I am now hearing, this my
      own voice, being played by a word-list in front of me, which is this
      that I am reading right now. It is like I am simply having thoughts
      played through my mind, and spoken in my own voice.

      Is it possible to read this and to NOT hear this voice? Here, let me
      try it, now. OK; I am reading and for heavens sake, the voice is now
      unmistakable. Huh! Now I am having some feelings, a little
      impatience, I am perhaps a little irked, over the game that this is
      playing. Like, does this think it can just take over my thoughts?
      What is this, anyway?

      Is this just some pointless prattle, an exercise in random
      impressions, a redundant measure of supposed verbosity, which
      ironically, is now my own? How can I even be reading this? To what
      end is this leading to? Is there going to be a useful conclusion, a
      cosmic lesson, a gratifying insight to be gained?

      I see that for once, as I am reading, that the mixture of the intent
      of the writer with the reaction of the reader, results in a kind of
      mixture, which I have to sort out into some kind of useful or logical
      patterns of meaning. Otherwise, why bother to go to the trouble of
      reading this?

      I have come this far, I might as well go to the bottom of the page.
      There still might be something worthwhile, this guy usually has
      something of interest to say, but I am wondering about him right now,
      what is his game, his intent? Am I being led on and on, reading,
      seeking something, without even a hint of what it might be?


      Oh, now that is just a bit too much. I will not fall for that! No
      sir. "Generic context", indeed! Who does this author take me for,
      anyway... a simpleton? I cannot be commanded to simply 'have' a
      context, by putting it in front of me, in words, can I? Or can I?
      Yes, I am now immersed in this puzzle, but is there a solution?

      And what in hell is a 'generic context'? What the hell does that
      mean? Okay... that does it. I am skipping to the next posting! This
      has gone on long enough! This is probably a complete waste of my
      time, and it is barely amusing. Just slightly so. I wonder at the
      effort put into this. Good lord, if I keep reading this, I will begin
      hallucinating... why do I subject myself to this ongoing exercise in
      futility? What is it that makes it important to keep going on, when
      these words themselves reveal the nearly complete lack of any
      significance in this entire 'message'?

      At least I can thank this guy for helping me to keep my attention
      focused. Hey, maybe that is it; this is some kind of exercise, or
      maybe a test of some sort. Maybe there actually is an important
      meaning to be found here, in this mass of words and sentences and

      Or perhaps not.



      Talking from my personal
      experience bliss is nothing that you could order or ask to stay.Bliss
      gave me the hand to feel for the first time in my life. To feel
      without explanations without reason. It pushes me into life, feeling
      the suffering as much as the bliss.
      I am right now in a state of having bliss as a part in my life.
      Perfectly knowing that this is the opening of being human.



      I experience blissful moments, coming from the point of clear seeing
      of no-I of non-identification. It is a gift beyond words, as you
      said, a very receptive state.
      I experience it is becoming more, when I work on my personality
      (integrating denied parts, feeling shame etc).
      So the non-identification, the bliss for me is THE possibility to
      free my confused wounded trapped psyche (which is still there, the
      belief-systems, the judgements, the unreleased hurt).
      What a blessing!

      Alcohol is a poison to numb out your capacity to feel and to create a
      certain kind of drunkenness.

      So blissful drunkenness and drunkenness created by alcohol are vastly

      As I come from an addiction background (addiction means for me the
      decision not to feel certain parts and to replace the lost exstacy by
      something artificial, or by exaggerating an natural body sensation,
      like sex), I am aware that from the point of addiction I will misuse
      anything not to feel.
      Also the new found freedom.
      And I am dead sure, that I will loose it that way again and it will
      throw me in even deeper agony, because now I know how life can be


      TIM JANE:
      I am is looking at a screen, that sreen is the world and the
      world is
      in me.
      I have been watching- Pure observation.
      I have never been anywhere.
      I have never done anything.
      I never existed.
      I am.
      I have been fooled
      Im in the world also, im involved, i play a part in my wholeness.
      I thought you were seperate from me, and most of the time i still
      I forget, i identify, i get lost, i suffer, i complain- but
      remember, how
      fortunate are those who re- member, start coming back into wholeness.

      Without the stillness theres always identification and reaction, with
      stillness there is pure observation.
      I blow my own mind!
      Only glimpses, Only glimpses.
      Most of the time there is seperation and denial.

      Where does the world go when im asleep at night?
      I wake up, the I pops up and there is duality.
      Humanity! whats it about? the other, but there is only self.
      From my human limitations there appears to be, i forget.
      I am human, let me be human . Im always trying to get out of my



      I remember, as a high school senior in Albuquerque, NM....
      black Americans were rioting in the city. I remember listening
      to the radio telling where the riots were progressing, and
      hearing that they were only a few blocks from my house.

      I remember thinking that I as about to 'pay' for the
      sins of my fathers. Even at that moment, fearing for
      my safety, I never once felt that I had done anything
      to be ashamed of.....nor to feel guilty for. And at the
      same time, I empathized with their rage. And I understood
      that anything that would happen to me in the minutes and
      hours to come would not be 'personal'. I understood
      even as a teenager, that this 'energy' had been set in
      motion many decades before, and was looking for


      JEAN & JAN:


      There is love in everything that comes my way
      even if it looks strange sometimes. It's my creation and is exactly
      what I
      need for going further on my way. It's always the perfect teaching.


      This will be a great help for those, not yet experiencing things this
      way: they still have to find the perspective, from where everything
      can be seen as the play of Love. Once it is seen, one cannot stray



      Dear Hans
      how refreshing your words around getting stuck in bliss and getting
      stuck in
      alcohol. I have been stuck in both, and I think the bliss is more
      more subtle than the alcohol. To feel the feelings instead of
      "shooting off"
      in a "spiritual high oh YEAH! thats what I want to learn about,
      getting into
      the "basement" and drag the ghosts out - and see that that's not who I



      When you whole reason for living falls apart at the seams in actual
      terms, face to
      face, and there is no point to even get up and walk across the room,
      speak one more word, then perhaps a person becomes available for some
      real inspection, for the truth, but not until. Truth comes as a
      it cannot be otherwise. If a person is only busy with and full of
      themselves, there is no room for the Truth to show itself. So it's
      God sits and waits for you to get done with your "self" masturbation.
      waits for you to *grow out of* your life.



      I once went to a circumcision, my brother's - I was 11.
      He was screaming his head off; there is no anesthetic.
      I almost threw up and had to be led out of the room.
      No women were there - not allowed!
      I didn't question what went on but I knew it was wrong.
      What hope to treat others with respect
      if that's the way 8-day-old babies are treated



      We all live on land that has been stolen many times, practically
      without exception.
      Humans war, kill, and steal. We have done so throughout history and
      throughout prehistory. We continue to do so today. It could be that
      the main reason
      slavery has nearly disappeared is that it's inefficient; if you own
      slaves you have to
      feed and house them even when you have no work for them. It's just
      more efficient to
      set up a factory in a third world country.
      Identifying myself by any criterion; species, sex, race, nation,
      religion, iq,
      language... any imaginable criterion... is to fall out of present
      awareness, out of
      grace, out of the garden, out of innocence. to choose delusion over
      reality. I must
      remember the past, not identify with it.



      I think to look at only the shame is
      missing something. So I feel like adding
      some clarifications from my point of view:

      Shame is a feeling, when I start seeing myself.

      The real thing which heals, is seeing myself.
      And not just once, but again, and again and
      again. And to do so, I need to be determined
      to look at anything however good or bad it might
      be in my (or the other's) opinion.

      The empahsis on shame has some taste for me -
      as if the people looking at their shame try
      to become better through that. A kind of Satsang-
      therapy, a kind of "work" on oneself. And
      - I say it again - a very fine but nevertheless
      substantial motivation to become better
      through this work.

      So shame is just a byproduct for me
      (of seeing something about myself).

      > It is again that the gold is
      > hidden in the mud: and to allow the
      > shame to arise and be felt also
      > allows the gold which is behind to be received

      See what I mean?

      What if there is just mud and no gold?

      Nothing to be received - didn't you get

      My toilet need not be made out of gold
      so that I clean it. Just to be as I am
      is enough for me - more, more, more
      than enough.



      My husband gave me a card once which on the
      cover was a porch with a swing. It was in peach
      color and browns and white. It said that he sits
      across the porch from God and thanks him for
      giving him me.

      Right now he is playing the Movements music.
      It has a timeless quality. Gurdjieff would play
      the harmonium after meals and people would
      be transported into this timeless space.

      I am right now transported to the the Movements
      hall doing these sacred temple dances with my
      essence friends. Such emotion is evoke;
      great joy and love. And groupness;
      camaraderie; love and universal understanding and
      joy. Fine energy indeed.


      Of course there were always wars in history. And in one way or other
      land was stolen. But can this be an excuse to do it again and again?
      For me there is no way to hide. I am responsible.

      I can see that native people have a connection to their land as their
      mother. We have lost our roots. And connecting again is also meeting
      the past history in myself, in my lineage and feel it.

      I have made the split in the last 30 years. I wanted to become
      spiritual, to come above what is happening in the daily life, the
      wars, the torturing, how the earth is treated. But in this I have cut
      myself off from my humanness. I am living here on this planet to
      experience and in living with responsibility it is my believe that I
      can also change something, or change can happen.



      In all this discussion of shame i wonder if something has gotten lost
      because of the different ways we use words. I understand what Melody
      when she says she doesn't feel shame about the crimes of "her country"
      i don't think it's so easy to dismiss the ones that do feel shame by
      simply saying, "Oh, these are your ancestors' crimes, not yours."

      For one thing, the crimes -- perhaps not genocide now -- are still
      on, in Germany, Canada the US and all over, in a reduced form, in all
      kinds of race-based societal problems, even if i am not directly
      participating. We *are* all participating via the collective

      Perhaps a different example: When i first read about female genital
      mutilation in Africa, it made me weep. (I am not much of a weeper in
      general) It could be said that i was just "feeling their pain," (which
      also don't do much of in general) but i believe there was more to it
      that. There was shame as well. Not that i did it to them -- and in
      many of the perpetrators of this system are women, doing to their
      daughters and others' daughters what was done to them -- but i felt
      to be participating as part of the collective unconscious. As long as
      remain to some extent unconscious i will be continuing to support the
      collective barbarity.

      There's nothing to do about it except keep looking, watching, waiting,
      feeling, processing, celebrating when i can, etc, so okay. But i think
      phenomenon of shame is deeper and wider than the fairly political
      realm we
      have been considering up to now.


      I also feel the importance of looking at/into the "dark side"
      again and again, seeing that it is not "outside" but recognising it
      as "in me".

      To take and accept hate, anger, dismissal etc. seems more difficult
      than to accept peace, love, joy. I find myself again and again
      resisting the monster in me. If I stop resisting and allow myself to
      feel it totaly, the feeling dissolves immediatly or looses at least
      the energy that is bound in restistance. The atention is then free to
      go elsewhere. And the pain and suffering is coming from the
      resistance and not from the feeling itself. That's what I find out
      everytime I look closer. And I decide where I want to have my

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