Tuesday, May 23, 2017

there





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Everything is natural. The light on your fingertips is starlight. Life begins with coiling — molecules and nebulae. Cruelty, selfishness, and vanity are boring. Each self is many selves. Reason is beauty. Light and darkness are arbitrary divisions.
Cleanliness is as undefinable and as natural as filth. The physiological body is pure spirit. Monotony is madness. The frontier is both outside and inside. The universe is the messiah. The senses are gods and goddesses. Where the body is — there are all things.

–Michael McClure



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many mansions






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What we call the body is not feet or shins,
The body, likewise, is not thighs or loins.
It’s not the belly nor indeed the back,
And from the chest and arms the body is not formed.
 

The body is not ribs or hands,
Armpits, shoulders, bowels, or entrails;
It is not the head or throat:
From none of these is “body” constituted.

If “body,” step by step,
Pervades and spreads itself throughout its members,
Its parts indeed are present in the parts,
But where does the “body,” in itself, abide!

If “body,” single and entire,
Is present in the hand and other members,
However many parts there are, the hand and all the rest,
You’ll find an equal quantity of “bodies.”

If “body” is not outside or within its parts,
How is it, then, residing in its members?
And since it has no basis other than its parts,
How can it be said to be at all?


Thus there is no “body” in the limbs,
But from illusion does the idea spring,
To be affixed to a specific shape—
Just as when a scarecrow is mistaken for a man.
As long as the conditions are assembled,
A body will appear and seem to be a man.
As long as all the parts are likewise present,
It’s there that we will see a body.

Likewise, since it is a group of fingers,
The hand itself is not a single entity.
And so it is with fingers, made of joints—
And joints themselves consist of many parts.

These parts themselves will break down into atoms,
And atoms will divide according to direction.
These fragments, too, will also fall to nothing.
Thus atoms are like empty space—
they have no real existence.

All form, therefore, is like a dream,
And who will be attached to it, who thus investigates!
The body, in this way, has no existence;
What is male, therefore, and what is female!


–Shantideva
The Way of the Bodhisattva





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invitation





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... when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart:
Your seeds shall live in my body,
And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,
And your fragrance shall be my breath,
And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.


―Kahlil Gibran



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there is a path from me to you





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This moment this love comes to rest in me,
many beings in one being.
In one wheat grain a thousand sheaf stacks.
Inside the needle's eye, a turning night of stars.

Listen, if you can stand to.
Union with the friend
means not being who you have been,
being instead silence, a place,
a view where language is inside seeing.

From the wet source
someone cuts a reed to make a flute
The reed sips breath like wine,
sips more, practicing. Now drunk,
it starts the high clear notes.

There is a path from me to you
that I am constantly looking for,
so I try to keep clear and still
as water does with the moon.

We do not have to follow the pressure-flow of wanting.
We can be led by the guide.
Wishes may or may not come true
in this house of disappointment.
Let's push the door open together and leave.

My essence is like the essence of a red wine.
My body is a cup that grieves because it is inside time.
Glass after glass of wine go into my head.
Finally, my head goes into the wine.


–Rumi
Coleman Barks version
The Big Red Book



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vertigo






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Mind led body
to the edge of the precipice.

They stared in desire
at the naked abyss.

If you love me, said mind,
take that step into silence.

If you love me, said body,
turn and exist.



–Anne Stevenson



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Sunday, May 21, 2017

I, the Beloved, and Love





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In those days before a trace of the two worlds,
no "other" yet imprinted on the Tablet of Existence,
I, the Beloved, and Love lived together
in the corner of an uninhabited cell.

–Fakhruddin 'Iraqi
Divine Flashes



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inside







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How something is made flesh
no one can say. The buffalo soup
becomes a woman
who sings every day to her horses
or summons another to her private body
saying, come, touch, this is how
it begins, the path of a newly born
who, salvaged from other lives and worlds,
will grow to become a woman, a man,
with a heart that never rests,
and the gathered berries,
the wild grapes
enter the body,
human wine
which can love,
where nothing created is wasted;
the swallowed grain takes you through the dreams
of another night,
the deer meat becomes hands
strong enough to work.

But I love most
the white-haired creature
eating green leaves;
the sun shines there
swallowed, showing in her face
taking in all the light,
and in the end
when the shadow from the ground
enters the body and remains,
in the end, you might say,
This is myself,
still unknown, still a mystery.


–Linda Hogan



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De Rerum Virtute, II, excerpt





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I believe the first living cell
Had echoes of the future in it, and felt
Direction and the great animals, the deep green forest
And whale’s-track sea; I believe this globed earth
Not all by chance and fortune brings forth her broods,
But feels and chooses. And the Galaxy, the firewheel
On which we are pinned, the whirlwind of stars in which our sun is one dust-grain, one electron, this giant atom of the universe
Is not blind force, but fulfils its life and intends its courses.
“All things are full of God. Winter and summer, day and night, war and peace are God.”



–Robinson Jeffers


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within this tree





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Within this tree
another tree
inhabits the same body;
within this stone
another stone rests,
its many shades of grey
the same,
its identical
surface and weight.
And within my body,
another body,
whose history, waiting,
sings: there is no other body,
it sings,
there is no other world.


–Jane Hirshfield



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as above





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As is the human body,
So is the cosmic body.
As is the human mind,
So is the cosmic mind.
As is the microcosm,
So is the macrocosm.
As is the atom,
So is the universe.


–The Upanishads


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Saturday, May 20, 2017

many mansions





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Each cell of a multicellular body has a self-identity; consciousness identifies with each of them as it carries out its individual conditioned functions. Any conglomerate of cells such as an organ that involves self-referential quantum measurement at the conglomerate level of functioning also has self-identity.

–Amit Goswami
Quantum Doctor

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odd discoveries


 



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We leave traces of ourselves wherever we go, on whatever we touch. 

One of the odd discoveries made by small boys is that when two pebbles are struck sharply against each other they emit, briefly, a curious smoky odor. 

The phenomenon fades when the stones are immaculately cleaned, vanishes when they are heated to furnace temperature, and reappears when they are simply touched by the hand again, before being struck.


–Lewis Thomas
The Lives of a Cell



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expressions of a deeper order





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If biologists have ignored self-organization, it is not because self-ordering is not pervasive and profound. It is because we biologists have yet to understand how to think about systems governed simultaneously by two sources of order.
Yet who seeing the snowflake, who seeing simple lipid molecules cast adrift in water forming themselves into cell-like hollow lipid vesicles, who seeing the potential for the crystallization of life in swarms of reacting molecules, who seeing the stunning order for free in networks linking tens upon tens of thousands of variables, can fail to entertain a central thought: if ever we are to attain a final theory in biology, we will surely, surely have to understand the commingling of self-organization and selection. 
We will have to see that we are the natural expressions of a deeper order. Ultimately, we will discover in our creation myth that we are expected after all.


Stuart Kauffman



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all my relations






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Consciousness is reflected in a word as a sun in a drop of water. A word relates to consciousness as a living cell relates to a whole organism, as an atom relates to the universe. A word is a microcosm of human consciousness.

Lev Vygotsky
Thought and Language, 2012, p.271



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and then you are






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And then You are like this:

A small bird decorated
With orange patches of light
Waving your wings near my window,
Encouraging me with all of existences's love --
To dance.

And then You are like this:

A cruel word that stabs me
From the mouth of a strange costume You wear;
A guise You had too long tricked me into thinking
Could be other -- than You.

And then You are...

The firmament
That spins at the end of a string in Your hand
That You offer to mine saying,
"Did you drop this -- surely
This is yours."

And then You are, O then You are:

The Beloved of every creature
Revealed with such grandeur -- bursting
From each cell in my body,
I kneel, I laugh,
I weep, I sing,
I sing.


–Hafiz



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Friday, May 19, 2017

no(thing the matter





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Concerning matter, we have been all wrong.
What we have called matter is energy,
whose vibration has been so lowered as to be
perceptible to the senses.

There is no matter. 

–Albert Einstein


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Bumble Bees, Levitation and Earth’s Magnetic Grid






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Aerodynamically (a bee) can’t fly…. there’s a hollow cavity inside his system and when he beats his wings he starts to resonate with this energy that goes back and forth similar to a guitar strumming on one side of the room and hitting the same chord on the other side of the room, or somebody hitting a high C and breaking a crystal. It’s the same thing. It’s resonance. 
(He) eventually reaches the resonance of the field around him (this resonance is the Earth’s rotational frequency due to its spin and is measured on today’s devices as 7.83Hz). 
Once the bumblebee hits that resonance, the frequency of his surroundings, he becomes a free agent. He creates a magnetic bubble around himself and he can go anywhere he wants… That’s not in any of the science books…. We have a conventional way of doing things and we have a natural way of doing things and they’re totally different. They’re diametrically opposed in many many cases.


–Ralph Ring



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more
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you are that





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Discover yourself.

There is in the body a current of energy, affection and intelligence, which guides, maintains and energizes the body.

Discover that current and stay with it.


–Nisargadatta Maharaj



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a dance of energy:






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Viewed with the patience of centuries
(from deep equanimity),

or with the precision of the a
microscopic (with great sensory clarity),

seemingly solid experiences are in fact
a dance of energy.



—Shinzen Young
The Science of Enlightenment:

How Meditation Works



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my beauty






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You wear coarse wool, but you're a king,
as the soul's energy hides, as love
remembers. You enter this room in a human
shape and as the atmosphere we breathe.

You are the central pole through the nine
levels connecting them and us to absolute
absence. So that we can have what we want,
you give failure and frustration. You want

only the company of the lion and the lion
cub, no wobbly legs. That man there, you
suggest, might remove his head before
entering the temple. Then he could listen

without ears to a voice that says, My
creature. A month of walking the road, you
make that distance in one day. Never mind
gold and silver payments. When you feel

generous, give your head. My beauty,
you have no need for a guide. The one
who follows and the one who leads are
inseparable, as the moon and the circle

around it. An Arab drags his camel town
to town. You go through your troubles
and changing beliefs, both no different from
the moon moving across or basil growing

and getting cut for a bouquet. It doesn't
matter you've been lost. The hoopoe is
still looking for you. It's another
beginning, my friend, this waking in a

morning with no haze, and help coming
without your asking! A glass submerged
is turning inside the wine. With grief
waved away, sweet gratefulness arrives.


–Rumi
Ghazal (Ode) 2935

Coleman Barks, Nevit Ergin version




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Wednesday, May 17, 2017

you are that





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God is a metaphor for a mystery that absolutely transcends all human categories of thought.


–Joseph Campbell 


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all things






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In the point of rest at the center of our being, we encounter a world where all things are at rest in the same way

Then a tree becomes a mystery, a cloud a revelation, each man a cosmos of whose riches we can only catch glimpses.


—Dag Hammarskjöld


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love is a mystery


 


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 All things feel.

–Pythagoras


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Respect the mind that stirs in every creature: love is a mystery known by metals too; every flower opens its soul to Nature; everything is sentient, and works on you.

Beware! From the blind wall one watches you: even matter has a logos all its own . . . do not put it to some impious use. Often in humble life a god works, hidden; and like a new-born eye veiled by its lids, pure spirit grows beneath the surface of stones.

–Gerard de Nerval
1808 –1855









Goethe on Science, excerpts






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Science of nature has one goal:
To find both manyness and whole.
Nothing 'inside' or 'Out There,'
The 'outer' world is all 'In Here.'
This mystery grasp without delay,
This secret always on display.
The true illusion celebrate,
Be joyful in the serious game!
No living thing lives separate:
One and Many are the same.
...


We can never directly see

what is true, that is, identical with
what is divine: we look at it
only in reflection, in example,
in the symbol, in individual
and related phenomena.
We perceive it as a life
beyond our grasp,
yet we cannot deny
our need to grasp it.
...


The highest achievement of the human being
as a thinking being is to
have probed what is
knowable and quietly to
revere what is unknowable.

–Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(1749 - 1832)



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rebirth, excerpt




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In our souls everything
moves guided by a mysterious hand.

We know nothing of our own souls
that are ununderstandable and say nothing.


The deepest words
of the wise man teach us

the same as the whistle of the wind when it blows


or the sound of the water when it is flowing.


–Antonio Machado



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image Riitta Ikonen
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Tuesday, May 16, 2017

we all dance





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Human beings, vegetables, or cosmic dust, we all dance to a mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by an invisible piper.


—Albert Einstein


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this mystery





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And yet, though we strain
against the deadening grip
of daily necessity,
I sense there is this mystery:
All life is being lived.

Who is living it then?
Is it the things themselves,
or something waiting inside them,
like an unplayed melody in a flute?

Is it the winds blowing over the waters?
Is it the branches that signal to each other?

Is it flowers
interweaving their fragrances
or streets, as they wind through time?


–Rainer Maria Rilke
Book of Hours, excerpt
Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy version



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