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Monday May 7th

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  • andrew macnab
    ________________________________________________________________________ Judi Rhodes: ******* Yes, people are always looking to mimic. The teacher wears his
    Message 1 of 1 , May 8, 2001

      Judi Rhodes:

      Yes, people are always looking to mimic.
      The teacher wears his hair this way, and wears these beads,
      so I will wear my hair this way and wear these beads and
      in that fashion I will get to be the teacher. Now that's an
      over simplification, but that's exactly what we have going
      here, people always looking to *find out* the teacher
      so they can mimick. Basically what they're trying to do is
      to somehow *eat* the teacher. lol
      Like I've said I don't know how many times now, it's
      "self" realization kids, NOT *teacher* realization. :-)

      And Socrates said, "know thyself", NOT "know thy other guy".




      Dan Berkow:

      Hi Judi -

      Quite so.

      And what are all the texts, except
      ways that someone said "See, I know it
      this way, and you can, too -- be like me" ...

      And what are all the teachers, except
      ways of saying, "This is how it is
      for me, and it can be that way for
      you, too, you can be like me" ...

      Texts and teachers can be helpful to a point -
      they may indicate and suggest, but they
      can't give what is pointed to.
      What is pointed to, can't be gotten.

      So, maybe texts and teachers
      give the beginning of a push for
      Humpty Dumpty.

      But the real splat! the pull of
      gravity is only from
      the self. What is understood
      is who I am.

      Not the understanding someone
      gave or said, including any words
      given here ...

      The splat! isn't words, nor is
      it the love or idealization of someone
      else or something else.

      Thinking there is something to get
      from someone, somewhere else
      to be, some other way experience
      is supposed to be ... all these
      thoughts, hopes, wishes evaporate ...

      There is no other way it is supposed
      to be, because there is only this,
      just like this ...



      Mark Valentine:

      dear friends....a little over a week ago i thought (foolish conceptualizing mad dog
      that i am) that i had written everything i had to write
      for a while....surprized by joy i find that the Beloved is revealed in the aspect of
      my beloved Mira once again and has plunged me to
      deeper depths and called me to higher heights....^^~~~~~

      further up and further

      white wolfe

      p.s. both the Brahm's (Thrid Movment) or Rachmaninoff (Second Movement) Second Piano
      Concerti are part of the inspiration
      behind this poem....

      a noble prince on a silver horse<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns =
      "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

      sharttered shards, shifting scree, scattered sands

      your eyes have brought anodine tears of penitence

      to my blinded, blurry and blankly staring eyes

      eyes scratched and pierced by sharp pinnacles

      my visions of bright tomorrows broken into

      ten times ten thousand shimmering fragments

      your love has washed away the brine and slime

      lust vainly indulged to appease but never satisfy

      the immortal longings of my hot and sensual flesh

      shifting scree, scattered sands, shattered shards

      your hands are the hands of my queen and healer

      you have taken my hands broken by my silly pride

      granite decomposed to coarse gravel by sins committed

      justified chicanery of overwrought too eager thoughts

      a coyote mind duped by its tricksy twisting contortions

      serpentine thoughts slithering down the mountainside

      clenching deep, dark valleys of compressed suffering

      guilt shifting, piling, hiding, concealing shifltless guilt

      scattered sands, shattered shards, shifting scree,

      your ripe lips are those of a goddess plump and sweet

      the lips of one who sips delicately on divine cabernet

      your whet kisses flood my parched and barren heart

      bring the aeons of famine and self denial to an end

      your nectar has trickled gently into the deep desert

      settling the sands burnt to dust and ashes by my raging

      flooded my scorched, barren passion with an endless river

      sweetwater washing ancient scars, icy grief with endless love

      shattered shards, shifting scree, scattered sands

      your love has gathered all of these broken things

      your love has resurrected them into a proud prince

      you have placed your noble warrior on a shining stallion

      you have called him by his once and always true name

      shattered shards into a shining mountain of truth and beauty,

      shifting scree into a proud prince and noble warrior with a clear vision,

      scattered sands into a shimmering silver steed of holy fire and divine

      I rise a shining mountain, I stand a proud prince, I mount a noble warrior, I ride a
      sterling stallion.

      I ride for you. To you I come my beloved! My beloved I come to you! I ride just for

      I come! I ride! I come!

      mark christopher valentine

      (may 7, 2001)



      When my now of many years ago seemed bleak despair...I always knew there was another
      now, this now in factI dreamed this
      now...In that now of all those years ago there were thoughts of suicide,long alcoholic
      binges, there was a rabbitty fear of
      others...weirddreams and odd compelling fantasies. Not weird enough or compellngenough
      to make me truly sick...just
      background noise I was accustomedto living with. At that time my thought was that, I
      was a potentialsomething lost...that my
      life was useless..less than useless, it wasan impediment and an embarrassment to the
      sane.But there was another now at work,
      the anti/now of then....somehow Ialways knew I would be well, that I would get it
      together and findsome happiness... I did not
      find happiness, it found me. It finds me when bits ofidentity are seen through and
      dissolved... and it finds me where myeyes are
      looking for the most part, so although I see sadness, angerand pain on these city
      streets, I also see love and playfulness
      amongyoung and old, jokes and laughter, sexy glances between lovers...allthe stuff of
      happiness. I see love sometimes...but I
      think it sees me always.With love and appreciation for all my teachers, Ron


      Mark Hovila:

      Many people are looking at ETs as saviors or devils, but I'm not
      of them. I just think it would be historic and mind-blowing for the
      contact which has already occurred to be acknowledged publicly at
      the highest levels of government. I'm glad you've got better
      things to do than to occupy your mind with such trivialities.



      Tim Gerchmez:

      when E.T. knocks on my door, I'll be happy to invite him
      for tea. "E" tea. :-)




      Dan Berkow:

      Knock, knock!

      May I come in for tea?

      Which planet is this again?


      Judi Rhodes:


      Little do they know, we already walk among them. :-)

      No kidding.



      Bruce Morgen:

      Appropos of this thread, a
      friend recently e-mailed me
      this URL:


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