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Re: organism and identity re: maria luisa

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  • carolina112900
    ... body ... I enjoyed reading this. Freyja
    Message 1 of 105 , Sep 30, 2003
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      --- In meditationsocietyofamerica@yahoogroups.com, "Nina"
      <murrkis@y...> wrote:
      > > > > > > > Hi, Maria Luisa, I have no bones (tee hee) with your
      > > > > > > > words, except that I did want to point out that the
      body
      > > > > > > > organism is part of the identity and part of what may be
      > > > > > > > protected.
      > > > > > > >
      > > > > > > > To stop and observe reactions to threats
      > > > > > > > we typically ascribe to 'being of the mind'
      > > > > > > > and thus only 'threats to identity',
      > > > > > > > will reveal that these 'threats to identity'
      > > > > > > > correspond integrally with 'threats to the body'.
      > > > > > > > The converse is also observable.
      > > > > > > >
      > > > > > > > Nina
      > > > > > >
      > > > > > > YES NINA,
      > > > > > > BUT HAVE YOU SOMEHOW KNOWN OR NOTICED THAT EVEN
      > > > > > > THE BODY ORGANISM IS ANOTHER PROJECTION OF MIND?
      > > > > > > IT'S AS UNGRASPABLE AS ANYTHING ELSE
      > > > > > > ONCE UNDERSTOOD AS A COMPOUND OF PERCEPTIONS
      > > > > > > (VIA THE FIVE SENSES).
      > > > > > > I THINK WE ARE TRAPPED IN THE FIVE SENSES
      > > > > > > MORE THAN WE ACCEPT IT.
      > > > > > >
      > > > > > > LOVE,
      > > > > > > ML
      > > >
      > > > Hello, Maria Luisa,
      > > >
      > > > I'm not entirely comfortable with the word 'projection'
      > > > as you have used it, but I'll go along with it:
      > > >
      > > > Agreed, that the body organism is a projection of mind.
      > > > However, mind is also a projection of the body organism.
      > > > The two feed each other, and are united in that feeding.
      > > >
      > > > It's another chicken and egg story.
      > > >
      > > > The mind speaks in thoughts, the body in sensation.
      > > > Thoughts and sensations are both expressions of stimulation.
      > > >
      > > > Where does the stimulation come from?
      > > >
      > > > What prompts a thought or a sensation to arise?
      > > >
      > > > Nina
      > >
      > > No Nina,
      > > sorry, sorry, but no.
      > >
      > > There is the Self or Consciousness,
      > > the basis, the substratum.
      > > From the Self or Consciousness
      > > the first cognition, "I", arises.
      > > "I" is the first thing for any other thought to arise,
      > > the thought of a body, the thought of a world,
      > > the thought of a me in the world, etc.
      > > This thoughts are what i term as MIND.
      > > Mind is thought, and thought does not come from a body,
      > > it comes from Consciousness.
      > > Stimulations are responses to accumulated memories,
      > > (ask Gene about samskaras, or tendencies).
      > > Thoughts arise spontaneously, they get an order by their own,
      > > ones come first, others come afterwards, time is created.
      > >
      > > maria luisa
      >
      > Why be sorry, Maria Luisa? Let's look at this again..
      >
      > What is required, for the "I" thought to arise?
      > Allow me to put forth,
      > that the "I" thought is a complex thought
      > that is not simple differentiation
      > of "me" from "Consciousness",
      > but rather,
      > differentiation of "me" from
      > a datum which exists prior to the "I" thought.
      >
      > What is required, for a newborn
      > to come into the "I" thought?
      > In other words,
      > what is this datum that must exist prior to the "I" thought?
      >
      > Allow me to put forth,
      > that the newly conceived human
      > has no sense of "I" prior to birth,
      > rather,
      > there is a vast, timeless undifferentiated being.
      > What happens?
      > There forms a body, through mytosis,
      > which is the splitting and differentiation of cells.
      > Has the "I" thought arisen in the mind of the newly conceived?
      > No, but it has arisen in the body of the newly conceived.
      > One cell declares, "I am a liver cell."
      > The next declares, "I am a muscle cell."
      > The newly conceived human, however, has no "I" sense.
      >
      > Duality, however, is working its way up
      > through the newly conceived's cells,
      > waiting for the pieces to be put in place
      > and for the quickening to build
      > to the moment where the newborn is propelled
      > into a most profound experience of
      > mytosis: that of birth, the rending of
      > the newly conceived from union with the mother.
      >
      > A newly conceived human, has no sense
      > of 'void/form', 'push/pull', 'up/down', 'light/dark', etc.
      > as the newly conceived human has not yet
      > experienced these dualities. A newborn, however,
      > rapidly assimilates these experiences, which
      > register as profound realizations, obscuring
      > the void of prebirth.
      >
      > It is in the rapid assimilation of these experiences
      > of difference, that the "I" sense begins to form,
      > from most simple to the most complex.
      >
      > It is through the body that these experiences are had,
      > and it is through the body, that the mind
      > forms the original sense of "I".
      >
      > Samskaras are nothing but accumulations of
      > experiences of difference. It may be seen
      > that the root of samskara is found in our
      > cellular function, in the dynamics of birth,
      > and in the flurry of realizations immediately
      > following birth.
      >
      > It is only later, when the original moment of
      > the arising "I" thought is completely lost,
      > that it seems that "I" have always been present,
      > that "I" is the first thought that arises.
      > By this time, the "I" thought is so well-ingrained
      > as to its purpose, the perpetuation of the "I",
      > that it has convinced us, that there is nothing but "I"
      > as the source of thought.
      >
      > It might be said, that the "I" awareness percolates
      > from the bottom up, from the cells into the mind,
      > which is only the most superficial, graspable
      > sheath of millions of functions within the bodymind.
      >
      > You have no doubt heard, in your study of yoga,
      > that the mind is a sense organ. The body is an
      > integral part of that sensing. Without the body,
      > without the living breath, the mind has no ground,
      > and so, dissolves. Where does your thinking mind
      > go upon death? Back into the void.
      >
      > There can be no thinking mind without the body.
      > Likewise, body does not exist without some form of
      > thinking mind. They are an inseparable siamese twin,
      > saying "I" am not "you", but at the same time,
      > sharing the most vital of organs and fluids.
      >
      > Do you see here, I am not speaking of "thoughts of
      > the body" or "thoughts of the mind", but rather,
      > about a functional relationship between body and mind?
      > I am also pointing to the origins of this relationship,
      > from a place where sensation in the body comes into being
      > at the same time that thought in the mind comes into being.
      >
      > We may never understand how it is that the origination
      > of all this arising was stimulated. We must go way back
      > to find this, well before the arising of my "I" thought,
      > well before the arising of my cellular division, and that
      > of my ancestors, and the world that bore my ancestors.
      > It is the epic tale of genesis - and that is the truly
      > ungraspable piece, beyond imagination, beyond thinking.
      >
      > You let me know if this isn't a simple enough. ;)
      >
      > Nina

      I enjoyed reading this.

      Freyja
    • Era
      ... Nina, you just made my day smiles
      Message 105 of 105 , Oct 5, 2003
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        --- In meditationsocietyofamerica@yahoogroups.com, "Nina" <murrkis@y...> wrote:
        > > > When the inspiration fails, it is no worse than
        > > > a sandcastle being washed away by the beach tide.
        > > > Tomorrow, I build another sandcastle.
        > > >
        > > > The thing is, I do know that at any time, I could
        > > > let go of the sandcastle building... but why?
        > > > Maybe you know why and would share the why...
        > >
        > > SG: one perhaps builds sandcastles until there is no longer
        > > an attachment to building and creating a structured form ......
        > > Inspirations may be wrapped up in sandcastles .....
        > >
        > > perhaps at that point one simply creates them out of the joy of
        > > the moment..... not expecting them to last but simply for the
        > > beauty and joy of spontaneous art and motion which flows from
        > > the Bliss of Being here now in this place in this moment .......
        > > it needs not carry behind it some representation or hidden
        > > meaning it simply is as it is Beautiful and sacred within it's own
        > > right.......
        > >
        > > then as in all things (this creation of the moment) simply falls
        > > away so that another image may take its place
        > >
        > > First one goes beyond the transient unfolding play before it is
        > > fully understood and appreciated for what it is ....... then one
        > > steps back into the lila and play simply Enjoying that lila as an
        > > expression of Infinite Love in motion........
        > > Formless or Form it is the same Essense
        > > minus the distinguishing factors .....
        >
        > > SG: hahahahaha perhaps so .... everything proceeds from
        > > Source and returns to Source in some manner......
        > >
        > >
        > > Infinite Love
        >
        > 1. There are pictures of this sandcastle building: faded square
        > photographs with radiused corners, the blues and greens and sand
        > colors of photographs from that time, the reds always slightly
        > pungent, as if the pigment were wired and erratic, unsure of its
        > place in the film. There we are, squatting in the sand: my blond-
        > haired mother, sitting aside, arm around the barrel-chest of the
        > small grey dog; my father and a very small I sitting together,
        > scraping sand into forms. What the photograph barely hints at is the
        > joy of building that sandcastle, part enjoyment of the sand and
        > water, part thrill and satisfaction of building it with my father.
        > What the photograph doesn't contain is what came later. After
        > building it, I felt so much happiness and pride; we played in the
        > water, and I kept looking back to see that sandcastle sitting before
        > the waves. Then the two boys came, stepping into the sandcastle,
        > crushing it. I cried salt tears to the sea, inconsolable, and unable
        > to explain or even understand that the greatest loss was not the
        > sandcastle, but what the sandcastle represented.
        >
        > 2. We like to go early to the beach, before the beach patrol comes on
        > line, and let our dogs run off leash. One morning, on the way back,
        > we are walking close to the dunes, past a sandcastle left above the
        > tide line. One of the dogs stalks the sandcastle, circling it,
        > sniffing it carefully, as if the castle might move. She notes the
        > hollow center of the castle, and daintily scratches it with one paw,
        > once, twice. Moving within the hollow, she begins to dig, throwing
        > large arcs of sand beneath and behind her, very efficiently deepening
        > the hollow. Sufficiently inspired, she leaps from the castle, and
        > runs circles on the beach. She is amazing, lean muscle and arching
        > back, her earth-pounding feet carrying her so close to us on her
        > returns that her breath is heard and wake is felt.
        >
        > 3. After the walk, I remain on the beach after the others return
        > home. The sun is coming up, pink and orange, and the sky is humid and
        > a thick blue-grey. The moon is still out, and a few stars, but are
        > gradually fading in a sky that is approaching their brilliance. I
        > stand within the laps of the waves, and look out to the rocking
        > shrimp boats, and the long, thin horizon beyond. With each receding
        > wave, the water draws sand from beneath the edges of my feet.
        > Eventually, I am balancing on two pyramids beneath my arches. I find
        > that if I am not perfectly balanced through the soles of my feet as
        > these pyramids form, that eventually I must cling to the tops of the
        > pyramids with the muscles of my legs, lest my feet slide from the
        > pyramids. I stand for a long while like this, trying on new pyramids,
        > learning as a matter of course what it is to be perfectly balanced
        > within my soles, and how transparent and effortless that feels,
        > watching the night suns recede as I am warmed by the heat advancing
        > in the eastern sky. At some point, the shrimp boats disappear, and I
        > take that as my cue to leave.
        >
        > Thanks for your letter, SG.
        >
        > Nina


        Nina, you just made my day

        smiles
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