Thursday, May 28, 2015

question





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My heart is so small
it's almost invisible.
How can You place
such big sorrows in it?

"Look," He answered,
"your eyes are even smaller,
yet they behold the world."


–Rumi


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Wednesday, May 27, 2015

remembering you





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in time of daffodils (who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why, remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so (forgetting seem)

in time of roses (who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if, remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek (forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time
shall set us free)
forgetting me, remember me


–E. E. Cummings



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Tuesday, May 26, 2015

fear of vanishing







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The fear of vanishing which may arise with inquiry,
is the old sensation: “I am the body.”
This is not a fear of the new, but of leaving the old.
Have no fear and plunge into your own Being.
When “you” disappear, all fear will also.

Stay quiet, be still, here you are.
Stay as presence in your Heart.
Do not fear meeting the Self,
it is what you always been.
Nothing can be lost, have no fear.

There can also be fear of “losing it.”
Only when you possess something does the fear of losing arise.
Only Self cannot be held, so only Self cannot be lost.
The only way to avoid fear is to return to the inner beauty,
the Self, the Heart on the right.


–Papaji



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Monday, May 25, 2015

not to worry






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All your pain, worry, sorrow
Will someday apologize and confess
They were a great lie.

—Hafiz









Sunday, May 24, 2015

that is happiness

 




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I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. 

Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. 

At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. 

When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.


—Willa Cather 
from My Antonia



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Saturday, May 23, 2015

I Am Learning to Abandon the World







 
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I am learning to abandon the world
before it can abandon me.
Already I have given up the moon
and snow, closing my shades
against the claims of white.

And the world has taken
my father, my friends.
I have given up melodic lines of hills,
moving to a flat, tuneless landscape.
And every night I give my body up
limb by limb, working upwards
across bone, towards the heart.
But morning comes with small
reprieves of coffee and birdsong.
A tree outside the window
which was simply shadow moments ago
takes back its branches
twig by leafy twig.
And as I take my body back
the sun lays its warm muzzle on my lap
as if to make amends.


—Linda Pastan
 




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Friday, May 22, 2015

this will be all?







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And this will be all?
And the gates will never open again?
And the dust and the wind will play around the rusty door
hinges and the songs of October moan, Why-oh, why-oh?

And you will look to the mountains
And the mountains will look to you
And you will wish you were a mountain
And the mountain will wish nothing at all?
  This will be all?
The gates will never-never open again?

The dust and the wind only
And the rusty door hinges and moaning October
And Why-oh, why-oh, in the moaning dry leaves,
  This will be all?

Nothing in the air but songs
And no singers, no mouths to know the songs?
You tell us a woman with a heartache tells you it is so?
  This will be all?

–Carl Sandburg




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