Friday, July 30, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
dual duel
If you have any doubt that we live in and as a dualistic universe, look at your body -- one side a distorted reflection of the other. And yet there is an invisible yet subtly felt line where your two halves meet running right up from crotch to crown. The razor's edge from which all cooperation springs.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
the floating toothpick
Invisible before birth are all beings and after death invisible again. They are seen between two unseens. Why in this truth find sorrow? -- Chapter 2, verse 28, The Bhagavad Gita (Tr. Juan Mascaro)
Our physical sense-realm is a little blip in the infinite. If we do not trust the infinite from which we come, we cling to our physicality as we might cling to a floating toothpick, trusting it as a life raft in a vast boundless ocean.
We are the infinite embodying. We like our embodying, become attached to our sweet little selves, identify with our i.d., insist that our i.d. is who we are.
To no avail.
We are "seen between two unseens." Why do we find sorrow in this truth? Because we plant our flag in this world. You know the story. Attachment. To our stuff. To our relationships. To our distorted view of ourselves. But most of all and underlying all, to being seen.
Soon this droplet will return to the ocean, this scene will return to the un-scene. No need to make a scene about it.
Drop the scene-ario and open. The menu is not the food. The plot we have created is not the play.
Why in this truth find sorrow?
Our physical sense-realm is a little blip in the infinite. If we do not trust the infinite from which we come, we cling to our physicality as we might cling to a floating toothpick, trusting it as a life raft in a vast boundless ocean.
We are the infinite embodying. We like our embodying, become attached to our sweet little selves, identify with our i.d., insist that our i.d. is who we are.
To no avail.
We are "seen between two unseens." Why do we find sorrow in this truth? Because we plant our flag in this world. You know the story. Attachment. To our stuff. To our relationships. To our distorted view of ourselves. But most of all and underlying all, to being seen.
Soon this droplet will return to the ocean, this scene will return to the un-scene. No need to make a scene about it.
Drop the scene-ario and open. The menu is not the food. The plot we have created is not the play.
Why in this truth find sorrow?
Sunday, July 4, 2010
the dancing dances
The dancing dances the dancer.
When the dancer dances, dancing stops.
Something else is going on.
The walking walks the walker.
When the walker walks, walking stops.
Walkering begins.
The singing sings the singer.
When the singer sings, singing disappears.
Ears can hear this.
The breathing breathes the breather.
When the breather breathes, all goes to hell.
Panting and arrythmia are ours.
We know this, yet insist
the dancer and the walker and the singer and the breather
rule the world.
When the dancer dances, dancing stops.
Something else is going on.
The walking walks the walker.
When the walker walks, walking stops.
Walkering begins.
The singing sings the singer.
When the singer sings, singing disappears.
Ears can hear this.
The breathing breathes the breather.
When the breather breathes, all goes to hell.
Panting and arrythmia are ours.
We know this, yet insist
the dancer and the walker and the singer and the breather
rule the world.
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