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Re: organism and identity / for sg

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  • manjusrilotus
    ... Namaste Light of the One Heart - ... SG: there is nothing to forgive. it is simply another passing wave on the Ocean of Being .... ... SG:
    Message 1 of 105 , Oct 1, 2003
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      --- In meditationsocietyofamerica@yahoogroups.com, "Era"
      <mi_nok@y...> wrote:

      > dear SG and at all,
      Namaste Light of the One Heart -

      > I ask you to forgive me I am having
      > a talk at n other forum

      SG: there is nothing to forgive. it is simply another passing
      wave on the Ocean of Being ....


      > and I became agitated

      SG: 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 loose
      > focus and have to go back constantly

      SG: ah - this happens when one attempts to divide the
      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 what
      > does the variety their nubers mean
      > if anything

      SG: they are simply pauses., until the next line emmerges
      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 ?
      > > This is an potential opening to reach deep and
      > > contemplate how caught up you are within these

      K: I hope you are kidding
      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
      peace .......
      > > the dots are nothing more than pauses along the
      > > 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
      garden and savoring the fragrance...


      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
      "important' point

      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, other
      > than the black ones in a Gospel

      SG: would it be better sung with a beat ?


      > Infinite Love

      > I love this signo SG and I know its true coming from you

      > love, Karta

      SG: there is nothing more important to give than this.
      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 .
    • 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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