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#4934 - Thursday, May 30, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee

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  • Gloria Lee
    #4934 - Thursday, May 30, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee The Nonduality Highlights http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights/ To be a man of knowledge one needs to
    Message 1 of 1 , May 31, 2013
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      #4934 - Thursday, May 30, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee
       
       
      To be a man of knowledge one needs to be light and fluid.
       
      ~Yaqui Mystic
       
      via Along The Way
       
      Alan Larus Photography
       
       

       
      Amituofo
       
      Tricycle's Profile of Shifu Shi Yan Ming, 34th Generation Shaolin Monk
      by Andrew Gladstone
       
       

      In 1992, in the final days of a performance tour of the United States, 34th
      generation Shaolin monk Shi Yan Ming defected and hid out in a San Francisco
      basement before making his way to New York City. Now, 21 years later, he is the
      abbot and founder of the USA Shaolin Temple in Manhattan, where he is the shifu
      (teacher) of many disciples devoted to learning the ways of Ch'an Buddhism and
      Shaolin martial arts.
       
      Amituofo means many thingsĀ—it can be a greeting, it can express gratitude or
      condolences, or it can be a blessing. It is the transliteration of the Sanskrit
      "Amitabha," and is used to express anything honestly from the heart.
       
      Watch our profile of Shifu Shi Yan Ming and the USA Shaolin Temple, and make
      sure to watch it big and play it loud. You can also download a transcript here.
       
       
      (Patience, 5 min video loads before playing.)
       

       
      Alan Larus Photography
       
       
      Directions
      (excerpt)
       
      The best time is late afternoon
      when the sun strobes through
      the columns of trees as you are hiking up,
      and when you find an agreeable rock
      to sit on, you will be able to see
      the light pouring down into the woods
      and breaking into the shapes and tones
      of things and you will hear nothing
      but a sprig of birdsong or the leafy
      falling of a cone or nut through the trees,
      and if this is your day you might even
      spot a hare or feel the wing-beats of geese
      driving overhead toward some destination.
       
      But it is hard to speak of these things
      how the voices of light enter the body
      and begin to recite their stories
      how the earth holds us painfully against
      its breast made of humus and brambles
      how we who will soon be gone regard
      the entities that continue to return
      greener than ever, spring water flowing
      through a meadow and the shadows of clouds
      passing over the hills and the ground
      where we stand in the tremble of thought
      taking the vast outside into ourselves.
       
      ~ Billy Collins
       
      (The Art of Drowning)
       
       
       
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