Re: organism and identity / for sg
- --- In email@example.com, "Era"
> dear SG and at all,Namaste Light of the One Heart -
> I ask you to forgive me I am havingSG: there is nothing to forgive. it is simply another passing
> a talk at n other forum
wave on the Ocean of Being ....
> and I became agitatedSG: perhaps the other forum is not edifying but disturbing to
your peace and light . if so would it not be simply
more beneficial to put your attention on something
that would feed your understanding and wisdom.
K> I am immersed in music and the dots
> brake my train of though and I looseSG: ah - this happens when one attempts to divide the
> focus and have to go back constantly
train of thought. try turning off the music to read
and then between posts turn it on and listen to a
whole song. (this of course is simply a suggestion)
When you listen Immerse yourself within it .
K: > I don't get the meaning of them either,
> why are there where they are and whatSG: they are simply pauses., until the next line emmerges
> does the variety their nubers mean
> if anything
from the stillness to the light of day on the page . The
number of more or less means nothing other than
the momentary happening .
K:> may ask you what do they mean to you?
SG: explanation is above.
sg:> > disturb your peace?
K: > no, my love of rhytm
SG: ah here it is simply another aspect of the flow and
rhythm... rather than the stopping of all motion the dots
flow until the next visual image appears..
sg: if so take a deep breath sit back and ask yourself
> > honestly Why ?K: I hope you are kidding
> > This is an potential opening to reach deep and
> > contemplate how caught up you are within these
its not that important
SG: i wasn't kidding ... but am glad to see that it isn't as
much of a problem to your peace as first stated... it is
never meant to disturb your peace ...
sg: minor externals that you are allowing to disturb your
> > the dots are nothing more than pauses along thegarden and savoring the fragrance...
> > path ...... they are not there to disturb your peace.....
> > perhaps see them simply as reminders to stop and
> > smell the roses rather than rushing through the
K: > I do that with MY OWN beat
SG: ah well there you have it ... each has a natural flow .
this is simply part of my flow ....
K: oh! I see: the preachers pause when making an
SG: maybe it is the poets pause.... is there a tendency to
see this open heart sharing as *preaching* ?
K: > like a highlight
> I dislike preacher stance, otherSG: would it be better sung with a beat ?
> than the black ones in a Gospel
> Infinite LoveSG: there is nothing more important to give than this.
> I love this signo SG and I know its true coming from you
> love, Karta
there is nothing more to be other than this as a
recognition of the same Essense within all Life
at the core of Being . For some it is simply covered
over in a veil of illusion .
- --- In firstname.lastname@example.org, "Nina" <murrkis@y...> wrote:
> > > When the inspiration fails, it is no worse thanNina, you just made my day
> > > 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.