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#4923 - Sunday, May 19, 2013

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    Archived issues of the NDHighlights are available online: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm Nonduality Highlights Issue
    Message 1 of 1 , May 19, 2013
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      Archived issues of the NDHighlights are available online: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm

      Nonduality Highlights Issue #4923, Sunday, May 19, 2013





      If your grasping ego had not waylaid you from within,
      would bandits have any power to lay a hand on you?
      Because of this demanding jailor, desire,
      the heart is captive to greed, desire, and harm.
      Because of that inner jailor, you've become a crazed thief
      even more susceptible to that jailor's power.
      Pay attention to the wise council of the Prophet:
      "Your worst enemy is between your two sides."

      - Rumi, Mathnawi III: 4063-4066, version by Camille and Kabir Helminski from Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance, posted to Sunlight




      Whatever I do, the responsibility is mine,
      but like one who plants an orchard,
      what comes of what I do, the fruit,
      will be for others.

      I offer the actions of this life
      to the God within,
      and wherever I go, the way is blessed.

      - Lalla, version by Colman Barks, from Naked Song, posted to AlongTheWay




      Everything is meaningless, if you take it part by part.
      Everything is wonderful, if you take it as a whole.
      So, whatever you want to see, you must see
      as a whole structure.

      Swami Krishnananda, posted to SufiMystic




      The flute of the Infinite is played without ceasing, and its sound is love:
      When love renounces all limits, it reaches truth.
      How widely the fragrance spreads! It has no end, nothing stands in its way.
      The form of this melody is bright like a million suns: incomparably sounds the vina, the vina of the notes of truth.

      - The Songs of Kabir, by Rabindranath Tagore




      Who made the world?
      Who made the swan, and the black bear?
      Who made the grasshopper?
      This grasshopper, I mean -
      the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
      the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
      who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down -
      who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
      Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
      Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
      I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
      I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
      into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
      how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
      which is what I have been doing all day.
      Tell me, what else should I have done?
      Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
      Tell me, what is it you plan to do
      with your one wild and precious life?

      - Mary Oliver




      Lost

      Stand still.
      The trees ahead and the bushes beside you Are not lost.
      Wherever you are is called Here,
      And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
      Must ask permission to know it and be known.
      The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
      I have made this place around you,
      If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.

      No two trees are the same to Raven.
      No two branches are the same to Wren.
      If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
      You are surely lost. Stand still.
      The forest knows Where you are.
      You must let it find you.

      An old Native American elder story rendered into modern English by David Wagoner, in The Heart Aroused - Poetry and the Preservation of the Soul in Corporate America by David Whyte



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