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Friday, October 12

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  • jerry@nonduality.com
    ERIC ASHFORD The Way opens up when it seems the most narrow. Just as a the glooming forest presses and hems most thickly at the edge of a sunlit glade before
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 14, 2001
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      ERIC ASHFORD

      The Way opens up when it seems the most narrow.
      Just as a the glooming forest presses and hems most
      thickly at the edge of a sunlit glade before it
      opens to the light. If the path seems suddenly
      impenetrable, know that this is the herald of an
      imminent breakthrough.

      You have a relentless friend. A watchful angel of
      the soul that has been appointed the business of
      undoing all your business. When the view becomes
      too obscure, he will tear down those structures of
      the mind that hold you hostage to assumption. He
      has no interest in your beliefs, nor does he
      sympathize with your endless intellectual
      pretences. He will strike you dumb if you try to
      talk your way to God. It is his compassion to crack
      your heart open, when the fabrications of conceit
      encompass your horizon. Put your trust in his hard
      mercy, he knows the way.

      Be guided by your basic instinct, to survive the
      contrivances of a false mortality. Follow the scent
      of the divine through your self concealment.
      Yesterday you were a somebody. You arose, and
      somebody brushed their teeth, thought their idle
      thoughts, and went out into a world to be a
      something. Do not make that mistake to day. Keep
      watching the one who lives this life for you, and
      stay alert for signs of a real life.

      Love opens. It is the space you allow to be in the
      architecture of this world. It is the essence, and
      that it why it can become the liberation of any
      form that seems to confine you. When a point of
      impasse, gets too dense, its own heaviness becomes
      a prophecy of breakthrough. Wait until the pattern
      of divination begins to reveal itself.

      Stay hidden like an owl in your forest. When the
      clouds pass from the face of the moon, there will
      be a moonlit trail, that will point to the opening.
      Make no effort to fly through it, for a sky door
      will fly open in the heart. You will have come
      through to a new dawning, with a password that love
      alone discloses. Another heavy star will have
      transfigured to original radiance to light your
      way.

         Love is always with child,
         ever expectant.
         Love gives of itself
         that a cosmic child be reborn
         in the breath of its spirit.
         Salvation becomes each moment
         this eternal child is awakened.

      ___________________________________________________________________

      MICHAEL READ

      VOICE

      Spontaneaous movement - a twitch, a jerk, flexive
      reaction unbidden - a surprise A moment without
      thought - yellow is only yellow and blue is blue -
      lively in the light

      A child cries compassion comes unbidden - such a
      tug on the heart - hand held out Laughter a howl of
      delight - kids underfoot - a smiling dance

      Storm fed lightening crashing over the valley -
      mercy isn't always kind - fiery fingers pointing
      Charged beyond love - laughing - shifted over again
       

      Ah!

      ______________________________________________________________________

      GLORIA LEE CONTRIBUTES:
      submitted by Joseph Riley to the Hafiz List

      I WISH I COULD SPEAK LIKE MUSIC

      I wish I could speak like music.

      I wish I could put the swaying splendor Of the
      fields into words

      So that you could hold Truth Against your body And
      dance.

      I am trying the best I can With this crude brush,
      the tongue,

      To cover you with light.

      I wish I could speak like divine music.

      I want to give you the sublime rhythms Of this
      earth and the sky’s limbs

      As they joyously spin and surrender, Surrender
      Against God’s luminous breath.

      Hafiz wants you to hold me Against your precious
      Body

      And dance, Dance.

      (“The Gift” – versions of Hafiz by Daniel Ladinsky)

      ___________________________________________________________________
       
      TONY O'CLERY

      Daily Words of the Buddha
      October 12, 2001
       

      Just as a mountain of rock,
      is unwavering, well-settled,
      so the monk whose delusion is ended,
      like a mountain, is undisturbed.

      Udana III, 4

      ___________________________________________________________________________

      IAMOM
      From Live Journal

      Just got off a plane an hour ago that felt like an
      overcrowded public bus. I had more leg room than
      usual though, which was kind of nice.

      Kind of a strange ending to my trip to the head
      office. Y, the president, actually came straight
      out and asked me if I considered myself a salesman.
      I almost laughed out loud at his question. I've
      been waiting for a year for somebody to ask me
      that.

      I basically answered him truthfully, which was
      like, "No, not in the traditional sense; not in the
      way I think you perceive a salesman to be." He
      acknowledged that the results I've shown in the
      past 3-6 months are good, but that he still wants
      more. He also gave me pretty much what I wanted,
      which is free rein to sell the services offered by
      the production team and not to worry any longer
      about product sales per se. So once again, the
      outcome was basically quite positive in the short
      term, and I get to continue doing what I want to
      do.

      Ahh, whatever. I guess these three days were a
      pleasant diversion. But I remained, incessantly,
      Nothingness in all corporate dealings and general
      conduct in public. I was always pleased to share
      more intimate interaction with those whom I cared
      about personally, but I always returned to that
      same funny place of ultimate limbo, or something.
      It's like I return to some kind of blank void after
      I talk to someone. It's not that my passion is
      gone, it's more like I see through the passion. The
      passion is an emotion to be observed like any
      other. The witness remains passionless underneath
      it all.

      ____________________________________________________________

      http://nonduality.com
      http://nonduality.net
      http://nonduality.org
      http://www.livejournal.com/users/awesboss
       

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