In that fierce embrace, even the gods speak of God

robbie_williams_portrait_black_and_white

Self Portrait

It doesn’t interest me if there is one God
or many gods.
I want to know if you belong or feel
abandoned.
If you know despair or can see it in others.
I want to know
if you are prepared to live in the world
with its harsh need
to change you. If you can look back
with firm eyes
saying this is where I stand. I want to know
if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward
the center of your longing. I want to know
if you are willing
to live, day by day, with the consequence of love
and the bitter
unwanted passion of your sure defeat.

I have heard, in that fierce embrace, even
the gods speak of God.

– David Whyte
from Fire in the Earth


Minutes after learning of Margaret Thatcher’s death yesterday, I came across this poem from David Whyte.  Coincidence, hmmmmm.  From Death. To embracing that fierce heat of living.  The image is of Robbie Williams, as we continue to ride the UK train this morning…whose portrait…if you can look back with firm eyes…seemed to captured the spirit of Mr. Whyte’s marvelous poem.  This is where I stand...


Source: Thank you (again) WhiskeyRiver.  Image: SolarNavigator.net

Running. In Confessional.

blue, photography,sun,light

I’m off.  35F. Feeling good.
It’s the day after Good Friday.
The title of LaDona’s post banging around in my head like a 50 Cent Rap song – - the tricked up Chevy heaving up and down to the beat:

This Place Was Made By God.
This Place Was Made By God.
This Place Was Made By God.

I look around.  Trees reflecting on the still waters of the Long Island Sound.  Sun’s up in its full magnificence.  Sky is a brilliant blue.  Who else could have made this?

She goes on.  This place was made by God, a priceless sacrament; it is without reproach.
(She’s so d*mn sure.)

And on.  The most sacred day in the Christian calendar, and indeed, in Christianity itself. Inspiration for stunning, poignant music across the centuries. Even if you don’t believe, or if you do and God seems far away, the music speaks. And touches. And heals.
(I’m right there with you Sister on the far away part.  And right there with you that the music speaks, touches and heals)

Then the mind, faster than a switchback on a BC mountain highway, turns to a conversation with a colleague on Thursday: [Read more...]

No God? Or All God?

photography,sunset,clouds,Colorado River, Toroweap

“The familiar stark divide between people of religion and without religion is too crude. Many millions of people who count themselves atheists have convictions and experiences very like and just as profound as those that believers count as religious. They say that though they do not believe in a “personal” god, they nevertheless believe in a “force” in the universe “greater than we are.” They feel an inescapable responsibility to live their lives well, with due respect for the lives of others; they take pride in a life they think well lived and suffer sometimes inconsolable regret at a life they think, in retrospect, wasted. They find the Grand Canyon not just arresting but breathtakingly and eerily wonderful. They are not simply interested in the latest discoveries about the vast universe but enthralled by them. These are not, for them, just a matter of immediate sensuous and otherwise inexplicable response. They express a conviction that the force and wonder they sense are real, just as real as planets or pain, that moral truth and natural wonder do not simply evoke awe but call for it.”

~ Ronald Dworkin


Ron Dworkin died on February 14, 2013.  He was an American Philosopher and scholar of Constitutional Law.  Before he died, he sent The New York Review of Books the text of his new Book, Religion Without God, which will be published later this year.  Dworkin was born in 1931 in Providence, Rhode Island.  He studied at Harvard University and at Oxford, where he was a Rhodes Scholar .


Source: The New York Review of Books. Image Source: Katy

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Sunday Morning: Amazing Grace

It’s an Amazing Grace feeling-kind-of-morning.  Here’s Rodney Britt and friends with 53-second clip, which I wished kept going and going.


And from a simple, spiritual, soulful version – - we move to the soul stirring pipes.  Amazing Grace hits a crescendo after 4:00 minutes.   [Read more...]

May your gravity be lightened by grace

dancer in wind gif

For Equilibrium, a Blessing:

Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.

As the wind loves to call things to dance,
May your gravity by lightened by grace.

Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,
May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.

As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.

As silence smiles on the other side of what’s said,
May your sense of irony bring perspective.

As time remains free of all that it frames,
May your mind stay clear of all it names.

May your prayer of listening deepen enough
to hear in the depths the laughter of god.”

― John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings


John O’Donohue (1 January 1956 – 4 January 2008) was an Irish poet, author, priest, and Hegelian philosopher. He was a native Irish speaker, and as an author is best known for popularizing Celtic spirituality.  O’Donohue said: ”Part of understanding the notion of Justice is to recognize the disproportions among which we live…it takes an awful lot of living with the powerless to really understand what it is like to be powerless, to have your voice, thoughts, ideas and concerns count for very little. We, who have been given much, whose voices can be heard, have a great duty and responsibility to make our voices heard with absolute integrity for those who are powerless.


Sources: Image – Thank you Anake Goodall. O’Donohue Blessing: Good Reads. O’Donohue Bio: Wiki.

Related O’Donohue Post:

When it comes, I’ll be fine, calm.

black and white, photography

“My doctor told me that I’m old, fat, and ugly, but none of those things is going to kill me immediately,” he told me shortly before his 72nd birthday. “The actuaries say I have six to eight years. The best tables give me 10. Three thousand days, more or less.” I asked if he is afraid to die. “Because of my hemophilia, I’ve been prepared to face death all of my life. As a boy I spent a lot of time in hospitals. My parents had to leave at the end of visiting hours, and I spent a lot of time just lying there in the dark, thinking about the fact that any accident could be dangerous or even fatal. So I’m ready. Everybody fears the unknown. But I have a strong feeling there’s something bigger than us. I don’t think all this exists because some rocks happened to collide. I’m at peace. When it comes, I’ll be fine, calm. I’ll miss life, though. Especially my family.”

~ Roger Ailles, 72, Founder and Head of Fox News, in Vanity Fair


Whether one is far right, passionate left or in the center, we are not so different at our core. We face our daily struggles. We love our family. We’d give anything for another ten years…Life is good.  Have a good day…


Image Credit: EveryThing All Around Me

Running. With Galileo.

bird, nature, fly,wings,inspirational

Late (LATE) start. Galileo’s Sun is up. I look up and bask in its warmth. I start my run into a cold headwind. Fingertips tingling. My eyes, fill with water. Like mist on cold air over warm waters. This will clear.

Run by the corner of Noroton and Post Roads. Church Corner. Ascension Episcopal. Noroton Presbyterian. Christ Scientist. Churchgoers are filing in. Man cradling baby in a papoose. Families striding briskly, holding hands with their children. Lady holding kerchief in place from wind gusts. Elderly couple shifts right to let me pass. Community. Peace be with you too.

I usually run too early to see churchgoers. Not today. Guilt washes over me. Eric joined his friends in attending a eulogy yesterday. “Weird,” he described it. “Awkward not having been to church in years.” He lights my fuse using less than 10 words. Jung scolds: “Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” Then Robert Fulghum piles on: “Don’t worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you.” How quickly this has escalated. Yes, “my” Son – - he’s been watching. And now I’m irritated, here on Galileo’s beautiful Sunday. NO, gentlemen. Not today. You won’t get under my skin today. No sir.

[Read more...]

Is that a path or a rut?

photograph,sand,dune,desert,path,solitude,

“What we don’t know chains us, leaves us sitting in the valley with a stupid smile. We discover our ignorance as we go. After a lifetime, if we’ve been attentive, we should fall to our knees before the vastness, the ungraspable minutiae of our world. We should suspect that it constitutes our God. And we so-called experts of this or that, could we have done more than play our one chord? Wisdom is to know, at best, that we make only a little good noise, a few small dents. It’s why the wise laugh a lot, why the laughter of metaphysicians echoes in the spaces they probe. We walk out of our houses into the enormity of our task. What kind of ant is that? Who named the phlox? Is that a path or a rut?”

 ~ Stephen Dunn, Ignorance - Riffs & Reciprocities


Stephen Dunn (born 1939) is an American poet. He won the Pulitzer Prize for his 2001 collection, Different Hours.  He was born in Forest Hills, Queens in New York. Dunn completed his B.A. in English at Hofstra University and his M.A. in creative writing at Syracuse. He has taught at Wichita State, University of Washington, Columbia University, University of Michigan and Princeton University.  Dunn lives in Ocean City New Jersey.


Sources: Quote - whiskeyriver.blogspot.com. Image: Jakupwashere

The long roll of heavens artillery

black and white, ocean, waves, photography

“Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his infinity, – the ceaseless flow of the tides, the fury of storm, the shock of the earthquake, the long roll of heavens artillery, – but the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of the White Silence. All movement ceases, the sky clears, the heavens are as brass; the slightest whisper seems sacrilege, and man becomes timid, affrighted at the sound of his own voice. Sole speck of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of a dead world, he trembles at his audacity, realizes that his is a maggots life, nothing more. Strange thoughts arise unsummoned, and the mystery of all things strives for utterance. And the fear of death, of God, of the universe, comes over him, – the hope of the Resurrection and the life, the yearning for immortality, the vain striving of the imprisoned essence, – it is then, if ever, man walks alone with God.”

~ Jack London


This share was inspired by the 10 ton meteorite falling out of the heavens in Siberia on Friday. (The long rolls of heavens artillery…The sky clears, the heavens are as brass…)

Jack London (January 12, 1876 – November 22, 1916) was an American author, journalist, and social activist. He was a pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction and was one of the first fiction writers to obtain worldwide celebrity and a large fortune from his fiction alone.


Sources: Quote – thank you makebelieveboutique.com.  Photo: midnightmartinis - “Portugal” – by Hélène Desplechin

Like, A Horse with No Name.

lost, confused, don't understand, poetry, poem

In 7th grade, a substitute teacher introduced us to poetry.  Well, sort of.  He circulated a copy of the lyrics for America’s hit song: A Horse With No Name.  The class lit up like fireflies offering up their interpretations.  DK, shoulders slumped, head down, was pretending to be reading the lyrics – - sat nervously hoping he wouldn’t be called on.  The 30 minutes of inadequacy never vacated short term memory.  (Samuel Beckett: I’m like that. Either I forget right away or I never forget.“)  I came across the poem below by George MacDonald and I found it moving me…Spring fever perhaps….and as my eyes slowly worked down one line and then the next, I found my spirits lifting…Hey! I understand this.  I get it. I like it.  No, I love it.  And, then. Reality.  I reached the last line and was stoned.

Through all the fog, through all earth’s wintery sighs,
I scent Thy spring, I feel the eternal air,
Warm, soft, and dewy, filled with flowery eyes,
And gentle, murmuring motions everywhere—
Of life in heart, and tree, and brook, and moss;
Thy breath wakes beauty, love, and bliss, and prayer,
And strength to hang with nails upon thy cross.

- George MacDonald, Diary of an Old Soul

So Sensei.  My wise readers.  Help me out.  Explain what the last line means.  So, I can get to sleep. Or, better yet, tell me you have no idea either. And I’ll sleep like a baby. :)


Source of Beckett quote and MacDonald Poem:  journalofanobody

And the winner is…

The runaway winner among all the Superbowl commercials.  Dodge Ram Truck.  And Paul Harvey.  GOOD DAY!

Synchrodestiny. I am the way.

Carl Jung, Faith, believe, belief, God, religion, spirituality

I’ve read hundreds of books.  And I remember what?  Snippets.  Particles.  Fragments. Crumbs. Smidgens. Specks. Morsels. Bits.  Traces.  A messy mosaic of something. Adding up to a little more than nothing. A cacophony of deafening alarm bells ringing out to me. Wake up!  Slow down!  Listen!  All banging around.  But coincidences.  And synchrodestiny.  Are crumbs that resurface with frequency. The culprit?  A Deepak Chopra book picked up while browsing at a Barnes & Nobles bookstore on a bitterly cold day over ten years ago. [Read more...]

Peace


I have come from so far away…Down the road of my own mistakes…My soul renewed, and my spirit free…I’ll find my peace.

~ Michael McDonald, Peace

Grounded.

illustration, sketch, black and white, simple figure, woman figure

It’s Monday, October 29th.  The day that Hurricane Sandy hit the Tri-State Region.

I’m scrolling down the new WordPress posts for bloggers I follow.  My fingers sliding clumsily on the touch pad. Scrolling. Scrolling. (Cursing because I haven’t figured out this d*mn touch pad. I miss the eraser thing in the middle of keyboard.  Getting old.  Hating change.  Big clumsy fingers. I slide fingers in wrong direction and I’m taken to another website.  I lose my place.  Need to start back at the top.  Grrrrrrr. Can this be so difficult pal? )

My eyes flitting from post to post.  Scanning images and topics of interest.

My eyes land on the image on the left.  I freeze.  (What is it about this image?  I can feel its soothing effects.  The ‘Work’ clutch now slipping from OVERDRIVE to neutral.)

A few lines.  Black lines.  White background.  A simple image. A simple, beautiful human image.  (Let’s not get too carried away.  It’s certainly not that simple.  And nothing I could ever draw.)

I found it to be startling.

[Read more...]

To Be

“Ours is a time of continual movement which often leads to restlessness, with the risk of ‘doing for the sake of doing.’ We must resist this temptation by trying ‘to be’ before trying ‘to do.’”

~ Pope John Paul II, Novo Millennio Inuente


Sources: Image –  goodmemory. Quote: crashinglybeautiful

Sunday Morning: All is a miracle…

curious eyes of a child

People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child — our own two eyes. All is a miracle.

~Thich Nhat Hanh


Source: Thank you artemisdreaming

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Unstoppable

Lorne - unstoppable - bone marrow transplant

This is my youngest brother Lorne.  This photo was taken one year ago yesterday after his successful bone marrow transplant.  He celebrates another year of a remarkable life.  This man, my Brother, carries himself with such grace, with such gentleness, with such kindness and with such optimism – - I shake my head in wonder.  It makes me believe that he was “selected” because of his indomitable spirit and strength.

[Read more...]

Sunday Morning: What did you leave behind

“At 68, Rob Elliot has guided 200+ trips on the Grand Canyon of the Colorado river in Arizona.”

How do you want to be remembered, when this life joins the wind?
What did you leave, in these chasms, upon these lives, young & curious?
What did you write? What dust in the rain, sand in the rivers?

Those you touched, embraced and kissed, loved… what echoes there?
How will it travel, your wisdom, your story, your suffering and joy?

These walls, silent, deafening, ancient and new.
What did you make them, what did they make of you?
A life running, teaching or learning, what is escape?
What did you find?

Wind, replenishing rain, sun.
Who did these thorns see?
What did these waters wash from you?
The stars, in the abyss beyond, how did they shine, on you?

Will you release the storm, the scars, whirling as they go, yet holding love, life?
The luminous child, the harsh knowing of age, what did you leave behind?

Good Sunday Morning…


OF SOULS + WATER: THE ELDER from NRS Films on Vimeo.

 


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Sunday Morning: Holi. Festival of Colors.

“If you notice the instances under which people gather in large groups, in coliseums, in stadiums – it usually has to do with contention, competition, rivalry, partisanship.  The Festival of Colors stands out from those events because there is none of that competition or rivalry or sectarianism.  People are gathered together just about celebrating our own spirituality and creator from whom we come…He’s present within his name.  Whenever you are chanting any bona fide name of God, God is dancing on the tip of your tongue.  Life becomes simple.  Life becomes streamlined and pared down – - to love of God and love of one’s fellow living beings…We’re all basically the same. There’s unity in diversity.  Underneath all that, there is a natural outpouring of love.”


Holi. Festival of Colors. 2012 from Good Line on Vimeo.


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Witness a profoundly inextricable connection with all living things…

As we traversed rural India at the speed of a couple of miles per hour, it became clear how much we could learn simply by bearing witness to the villagers’ way of life. Their entire mental model is different—the multiplication of wants is replaced by the basic fulfillment of human needs. When you are no longer preoccupied with asking for more and more stuff, then you just take what is given and give what is taken. Life is simple again. A farmer explained it to us this way: “You cannot make the clouds rain more, you cannot make the sun shine less. They are just nature’s gifts—take it or leave it.”

When the things around you are seen as gifts, they are no longer a means to an end; they are the means and the end. And thus, a cow-herder will tend to his animals with the compassion of a father, a village woman will wait three hours for a delayed bus without a trace of anger, a child will spend countless hours fascinated by stars in the galaxy, and finding his place in the vast cosmos.

So with today’s modernized tools at your ready disposal, don’t let yourself zoom obliviously from point A to point B on the highways of life; try walking the back roads of the world, where you will witness a profoundly inextricable connection with all living things.

Nipun MehtaPATHS ARE MADE FOR WALKING: Four steps to take on the road of life, Parabola, Fall 2012.

Thank you crashinglybeautiful from parabola-magazine.


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Running…Away.

5:35am: I’m up and out the door. The rest of the gang is sound asleep   (Day 3 of vacation. Day 1 of running after a week sabbatical.  I needed to rest the jet. Have to say the condition of my knee spooked me.  30 years ago, I could fall from pine trees, slip head long on slimy river rocks fishing with cousins, get chopped on ankle by a nasty Trail Smoke Eater – - and spring back like a slinky.  No more.  Dark thoughts encroach – - will I heal or will this knee-thing be biting me the rest of the ride?)

5:40am: I find the sign for the Mountain Trail.  (There are 3 trails.  Walking. Intermediate. Mountain.  I’m a Man, right?  Mountain it is.  ‘Throw caution to the wind.’  Knee be damned.) [Read more...]

Healing Hands…

Here’s Marc Cohn singing “Healing Hands.”  Cohn, born in Cleveland, was the Grammy award winner in 1991 for Best New Artist.  Cohn is married to ABC News journalist Elizabeth Vargas…(a tabloid factoid).  Love his music…

↓ click for audio (Healing Hands: Mark Cohn)



Image Source: opticalperception via abirdeyeview

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There will be no damage control today…

bebberIf you prefer smoke over fire
then get up now and leave.
For I do not intend to perfume
your mind’s clothing
with more sooty knowledge.

No, I have something else in mind.
Today I hold a flame in my left hand
and a sword in my right.
There will be no damage control today.

For God is in a mood
to plunder your riches and
fling you nakedly
into such breathtaking poverty
that all that will be left of you
will be a tendency to shine.

So don’t just sit around this flame
choking on your mind.
For this is no campfire song
to mindlessly mantra yourself to sleep with.

Jump now into the space
between thoughts
and exit this dream
before I burn the damn place down.

- Adyashanti


Quote Source: Thank you Rob Fichau @ Hammock Papers from Adyashanti, A Tendency to Shine.  Painting: Federico Bebber via crescentmoon06 and oxmonkey

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I learn more about life when I’m in it…

“People these days don’t know how to just sit in a room or any environment and merely absorb it and take it in. Instead, they have mind-numbing games on their phone to devote their attention to, facebook updates to know about, text messages and tweets to send, beautiful robotically edited pictures to post in an attempt to make their life seem somewhat interesting and from this desire to let people know what they are doing. And they miss the beauty in the details and the little things; they miss living in that beauty.

Sometimes I want to ask them things like, did you not notice the textures and shape of that room, did you not hear what he was really saying, did you not see the large bird molesting the smaller birds in the tree, did you not see that adorable old couple on the bench helping one another to their feet, did you not only see but feel what was going on in that room? Or were you too busy on your phone?

When we look back on our lives are we going to be a collection of meaningless gaming hours, ambiguous updates, cheap tweets and instagram photos? Is that what’s going to really make our memories and keep us living in the moment to make those memories?

Maybe it’s just me, but I learn more about life, myself and others when I’m in it. And I just want other people to be in it and learning with me too. So like all things in life, use your phone in moderation and focus on truly making those memories.”

~ Rex X


Quote Source: Rex X.  Image Source: Crescent Moon

Related Article: NY Times: The “Busy” Trap (Thanks for sharing Lori)

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If there is a God, he was here today…

Eric & Rachel - Eric's 2012 GraduationScene: Eric’s graduation yesterday.  Sitting among hundreds of parents, friends, and family members. Beautiful…BEAUTIFUL…sunny afternoon.  Whisps of gentle cooling breeze rustled the surrounding trees and the tassels.  I close my eyes and the Eagles’ song Peaceful Easy Feeling comes to mind.  If there is a God, he was here this afternoon.

The mood was set early.  A student on his way to Julliard sang “You Raise Me Up” honoring parents and the faculty.  His booming baritone voice filled our hearts and souls.

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be; Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up… To more than I can be.”

[Read more...]

The Believer of Convenience.

Scene: Sunday, April 17, 2012.  Beautiful sunny day in Chestnut Hill, MA.  Home of Boston College. (BC Alums, did I get your colors, right?)

This was a Father and Son day trip where we were joined by 1000+ other incoming freshman and their expectant parents – some like Eric, who were trying to decide if BC was going to be their home for the next four years.

Father Jeremy Clark (b. Australia; Chinese History specialist; Rugby enthusiast) kicked off his remarks by sharing some background on the Jesuits and their foundation which I recap like this: Pursuit of education and knowledge.  Integration of education with Religion and one’s pursuit of their highest personal calling.  Embracing character, community and service.  And, AND, their belief that “God is in All Things.”  More on this later.

Roll past a 45-minute briefing session in Biology and another 45 minutes in Chemistry (and I’m ready for therapy – Can I be the most clueless parent in the room?  Why are most of the parents taking notes?  Should I be taking notes?  On What?  Maybe I’ll doodle.  Ahh, I forgot my pen.  And I have no paper.  Isn’t the time up yet?  Why can’t I get an iPhone signal in here to check my emails?  Isn’t it hot in here?  I glance over at Eric.  He’s intently focused on the Professor. At least someone has it together. Could he be adopted? Or Worse?).  We moved on to the last of the formal classroom sessions which was hosted by four BC seniors sharing their thoughts on the BC experience.  It was standing room only.  No air in this room.  Or, perhaps I’m still hyperventilating from the last Chem session.  (What is wrong with me?)  During the end of the Q&A, a parent asks how invasive the religious requirements are at Boston College.  You could only hear crickets.  The Believers, shifting (squirming) uncomfortably in their chairs.  Gritting their teeth I’m sure.  The non-Catholic/non-Jesuit/”Other” parents and students sitting up at attention waiting for the response.  And me, I’m standing up against the wall…behind my son who sitting in front of me…I plant my feet…lean up against the wall…I squeeze his shoulders…I feel woozy.  (Get a grip man!)

[Read more...]

Be still…


“…Learn to silence the chattering of your ego, whether through prayer, meditation, or a long walk in the park. Find that place where you can detach from the pressures of the world. Find that place where your body and spirit work together in harmony…You don’t need the right car, the right shoes, the right girl­friend to be complete.  All you really need is to be yourself.  Your spirit is the real you. Let it guide you…Be still. Listen to your spirit say, I am, and I am enough. In the silence, you’ll hear God…”

- Melody BeattieListen to Yourself


Sources:

Life…

Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.
Life is beauty, admire it.
Life is bliss, taste it.
Life is a dream, realize it.
Life is a challenge, meet it.
Life is a duty, complete it.
Life is a game, play it.
Life is a promise, fulfill it.
Life is sorrow, overcome it.
Life is a song, sing it.
Life is a struggle, accept it.
Life is a tragedy, confront it.
Life is an adventure, dare it.
Life is luck, make it.
Life is too precious, do not destroy it.
Life is life, fight for it.

Mother Teresa

 

 


Image Credit: Thank you lori-rocks

You are not your body. You are not your mind.

Swami Vivekananda

 

WSJ Magazine: What Did J.D. Salinger, Leo Tolstoy, and Sarah Bernhardt Have in CommonThe surprising—and continuing—influence of Swami Vivekananda, the pied piper of the global yoga movement. 

Fascinating article worth reading in its entirety on this man’s influence on Henry & William James, Leo Tolstoy, Salinger, Carl Jung and many others.  A few of my favorite excerpts:

“By the late 1960s, the most famous writer in America had become a recluse, having forsaken his dazzling career…While he no longer visited with his editors, he was keen to spend time with his spiritual teacher, Swami Nikhilananda…”

“Though the iconic author of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ published his last story in 1965, he did not stop writing.  From the early 1950’s onward, he maintained a lively correspondence with several Vedanta monks and fellow devotees.  After all, the central guiding light of Salinger’s spiritual quest was the teachings of Vivekananda, the Calcutta born Monk who popularized Vedanta and yoga in the West at the end of the 19th century.

“These days yoga is offered up in classes and studios that have become as ubiquitous as Starbucks.  Vivekananda would have been puzzled, if not somewhat alarmed.  ‘As soon as I think of myself as a little body,’ he warned, ‘I want to preserve it, protect it, to keep it nice, at the expense of other bodies.  Then you and I become separate.’ For Vivekananda, yoga meant just one thing: “the realization of God.”

[Read more...]

He moved me…

One of my colleagues brought her 3-month boy into the office.  That’s not him on the left.  But equally handsome.

John is his name.

Quiet.

Peaceful.

He gently wrapped his hand around my finger…

Looked directly into my eyes.

Like he was telling me…everything will be okay.

And smiled.

Mystical moment.

Godspeed young man.

Godspeed.

 

 


Image: Thank you Mme Scherzo

A chance in the world…

My Son knows his Mother.  His Father.  His Sister.  He is loved unconditionally.  He sleeps in a warm, clean bed.  He has not experienced hunger.  Real hunger.  Yet, some (many) others in this world…”not so much.”

Part 1 of this book is called “An Orphan Boy.”  Beginning at 3 years old, Stephen Pemberton, is bounced from one foster family (who neglects him) to another – - The Robinsons…who can best be described as monstrous.   He’s subjected to merciless beatings – - deliberate attempts to thwart his academic progress — and he’s hungry, always hungry.  He’s not permitted to open the refrigerator – ever.  He’s required to adhere to a series of Robinson Rules which include #1-You are to never tell anyone outside this house about what goes on here.  #2-We aren’t your mother and father. You call us ma’am and sir.  #4-You are dumb, and ugly.  Something about you isn’t right.  Everybody knows this.  #7-We can beat you at any moment.  #8-No one wants you, especially your own mother and father.  Young Pemberton finds refuge in books.  He is a reader.  A kind soul, a neighbor, who sees a spark in this child – gifts him books.  He’s forced to read in a cold, dank basement.

I came to live not just in fear but abject terror, the kind that rises up and takes over every sense of your being.  Years later, long after the hunger and beatings were no longer residents of my mind, it would be that fear that would be that last to leave. [Read more...]