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Re: organism and identity / for sg

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  • Onniko
    ... off, I ... the ... the ... I ... Do you think we can remember who we were? I can t even remember who I am most of the time when I m dreaming. If you keep
    Message 1 of 105 , Oct 2, 2003
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      --- In meditationsocietyofamerica@yahoogroups.com, "Era"
      <mi_nok@y...> wrote:
      > > > > > dear SG and at all,
      > > > > >
      > > > > > I ask you to forgive me I am having
      > > > > > a talk at n other forum
      > > > > >
      > > > > >
      > > > > > and I became agitated
      > > > > >
      > > > > > I am immersed in music and the dots
      > > > > > brake my train of though and I loose
      > > > > > focus and have to go back constantly
      > > > > >
      > > > > >
      > > > > > 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
      > > > > >
      > > > > > may ask you what do they mean to you?
      > > > > >
      > > > > >
      > > > > >
      > > > > >
      > > > > > > disturb your peace?
      > > > > >
      > > > > >
      > > > > >
      > > > > > no, my love of rhytm
      > > > > >
      > <snip>
      >
      > > > > > I do that with MY OWN beat
      > > > > >
      > > > > > oh! I see: the preachers pause when
      > > > > > making an "important' point
      > > > > >
      > > > > > like a highlight
      > > > > >
      > > > > > I dislike preacher stance, other
      > > > > > than the black ones in a Gospel
      > > > >
      > > > >
      > > > > *Haha, Karta, I like the dots.....but, if they throw you
      off, I
      > > > > won't use them. I like certain black gospel preachers, too.
      > > > >
      > > >
      > > >
      > > > I abslutelly looove them, I used to
      > > > sneak into the Watts for sermon
      > > >
      > > > Ladies in big hats totally free
      > > > let it all out dancing ans singing
      > > > praising the Lord
      > > >
      > > > and Gospel music takes the Kundalini
      > > > high high way high into extasy, better
      > > > than Ravi Sahankar
      > >
      > > I know, I enjoyed a group when I lived in the city. They were
      the
      > > masters of using sound in that way.
      > >
      > > > <grin>
      > > >
      > > > but white preachers belong to a circus
      > >
      > > Our old ethnic church was very sedate and they sang badly but
      the
      > > things the preacher talked about, you would probably agree with.
      I
      > > think he was a non-dualist but he might have believed in
      > > reincarnation, it was hard to tell. At funerals he talked about
      > > merging back with god but also about recycling.
      > >
      >
      > oh Oniko, if there is an after-life
      > I most definetly want to spend some
      > time with you
      >
      > we can go to search together for our
      > friends and see what are they up to


      Do you think we can remember who we were? I can't even remember who
      I am most of the time when I'm dreaming. If you keep still at night,
      I might be able to come and say hello to you before I die and maybe
      forget.



      > <grin>
      >
      >
      > > > > > > Infinite Love
      > > > > >
      > > > > > I love this signo SG and I know its true coming from you
      > > > > >
      > > > > > love, Karta
    • 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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