Lightly Child, Lightly


Notes:

  • Photo: “The return of cold temperatures helps to create ideal outdoor skating conditions in Freeport, Maine.” (Robert F. Bukaty, AP, wsj.com December 26, 2018)
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Lightly Child, Lightly

Maybe I don’t need to be doing as much as I have been doing, on the level of trying to push my life down one path or another. And maybe there are some areas of life in which one never knows. Or maybe part of me thinks that when it comes to something as profound as a human life existing or not, it would be wrong to take it too strongly in my hands, or decide too vigorously either way.

~ Sheila Heti, How Should a Person Be?: A Novel 


Notes:

  • Photo – Sean Ellis with “Light” (via Mennyfox55). 
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Sunday Morning

One day when Buddha was walking with his disciples he pointed to the ground with his hand and said, “It would be good to erect a sanctuary here.” — Book of Serenity, Case 4

“…One day I ran across a single line in a thick book that made it all simple. It told the original meaning of the word paradise before it became a mythical ideal, imaginary and unattainable. Before it pointed somewhere else. The word paradise originally meant “an enclosed area.” Inside the word are its old Persian roots: pairi-, meaning “around,” and diz, “to create (a wall).” The word was first given to carefully tended pleasure parks and menageries, the sporting ground of kings. Later, storytellers used the word in creation myths, and it came to mean the Eden of peace and plenty. Looking at it straight on, I could plainly see. Paradise is a backyard. Not just my backyard, but everyone’s backyard. Teeming with weeds, leaves, half-dead trees, moles, mosquitoes, mud, dust, skunks, and raccoons. With a novice gardener and a reluctant groundskeeper.

Like the entire world we live in, bounded only by how far we can see. I began to garden. I got scratched, tired, and dirty. I broke my fingernails and ruined my shoes. I yanked out what I could have kept and put in more of what I didn’t need. I pouted and wept, cursing the enormity of the task. I was resentful and unappreciative. But when I ventured afield, sidelined by things that seemed much more entertaining or important, I always came back to this patch of patient earth. Time after time I realized that everything I want or need —the living truth of life, love, beauty, purpose, and peace —is taught to me right here, no farther away than the ground beneath my feet.”

~ Karen Maezen Miller, from “Prologue: Paradise” in “Paradise in Plain Sight: Lessons from a Zen Garden


Photo: Mark Benbenek

Saturday Morning

Screen Shot 2018-10-06 at 8.41.09 AM

Whenever we lose track of our own obsessions,
our self-concerns, because we drift for a minute,
an hour even, of pure (almost pure)
response to that insouciant life:
cloud, bird, fox, the flow of light, the dancing
pilgrimage of water, vast stillness
of spellbound ephemerae on a lit windowpane,
animal voices, mineral hum, wind
conversing with rain, ocean with rock, stuttering
of fire to coal—then something tethered
in us…breaks free.
No one discovers
just where we’ve been, when we’re caught up again
into our own sphere (where we must
return, indeed, to evolve our destinies)
—but we have changed, a little.

~Denise Levertov, from “Sojourns in the Parallel World” in The Selected Poems of Denise Levertov


Notes: Poem from Make Believe Boutique; Photo by Coleman Guyon

It’s been a long day

It isn’t enough.

I was gulping for air that never came. You know, graceless.

Until I let go.

~ Rolando Rios, Queen of the South (S2:E:1)


Notes:

It’s been a long day

The Chinese poet Po Chü-I (772-846) recounts in a poem how he’d traveled so long on horseback that he’d fallen asleep in the saddle. For a moment, his reins had slackened. It seemed like an instant but he’d gone a hundred lengths while asleep. He’d exhausted himself all day; prodding the horse to push on; to go here, then there. But in his sleep, he loosened his grip, gave up control, and the horse, which seemed to wait for this chance, carried him easily. This is the tension between will and surrender. We push and push; insistent on keeping pace with the urgency of our dream. All for the moment that we exhaust ourselves. And letting go the reins, the horse of spirit quickens its pace and carries us on.

~ Mark Nepo, Will and Surrender (Huffpost, Nov 6, 2017)


Notes:

It’s been a long day

If just looking could be so satisfying, why was I always striving to have things or to get things done? Certainly I had never suspected that the key to my private reality might lie in so apparently simple a skill as the ability to let the senses roam unfettered by purposes. I began to wonder whether eyes and ears might not have a wisdom of their own.

~ Marion Milner, A Life of One’s Own (First Published, 1934)


Notes:

Saturday Morning

It’s a gift, this cloudless … morning
warm enough to walk without a jacket
along your favorite path. The rhythmic shushing
of your feet through fallen leaves should be
enough to quiet the mind…

The rising wind pulls you out of it,
and you look up to see a cloud of leaves
wheeling in sunlight, flickering against the blue
and lifting above the treetops, as if the whole day
were sighing, Let it go, let it go,
for this moment at least, let it all go
.

~ Jeffrey Harrison, from Enough

 


Notes: Poem from Poets.org.  Photo: niaz uddin (Eastern Sierra Mountains)

 

Flying Over I-40 E. And I want what I want…

3:45 am:  Alarm.

4:50 am:  DFW Airport.

6:05 am:  Boarding.

6:40 am:  Wheels up and over the pre-dawn lights of Dallas. Sunrise blazing orange on the horizon.

The National’s new album “Sleep Well Beast” has been playing on a loop for days now.  And, for 6 hours last night, the Beast did sleep well with the aid of two shots of Advil PM. For a man who swore off all forms of artificial assistance, I’m pumpin’ it now. Screw insomnia. I’m making the trade: Zombie for Woozy. A few moments of lucidity in exchange for Anne Michael’s black earth breathing its winter breath…And so far, so far, it’s workin’…

But let’s be a bit more precise, it’s not the album that’s been on a loop but “Empire Line“. I seem to sit, kneel and stand to this anthem with the mind parsing and plaiting the lyrics that burn the groove:

You’ve been sleeping for miles / So what did you see? / Here the sky’s been falling white flowers…/ Can’t you find a way? / Can’t you find a way? / And I want what I want / And I want everything / I want everything.

We climb to 35,000 feet and the giant steel bird levels out. [Read more…]

Saturday Morning

ear-pale

How are you?
Silence again.
Fine, fine, I mumble, fine,
unraveling like string…

Sandra Cisneros, from “Drought” in My Wicked Ways: Poems


Notes:

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