7/03/2008

"'Tis thou thyself that makest Time.
And like a clock thy senses run:
Do thou but quiet their unrest—
The clock is stopped and Time is gone.

'Time flieth fast' we say, but who
Hath seen the fleeting of Time's wings?
Time standeth moveless in a view
That visioneth the Whole of Things.

...

Man, if thou findest Time on earth drag on too slow.
Turn unto God — live in the Everlasting Now."
This is from Angelus Silesius, a German Christian mystic living in the 17th century. I saw this poem on a calendar, and was stunned.

What he is pointing to is not a linguistic intricacy, nor is it an abstract concept. He is pointing directly to the heart of reality.

The only problem with pointing toward heart of reality is that no matter how much you point, or how skillfully you point, it's still something that has to be seen.

This is just earth-shatteringly beautiful to me.
"I disbelieve in Death. Hourly I die — what then?
To new and better Life hourly I rise again."
He truly understands. My goodness...
"I know not what to do! All things are one to me:
Place, Unplace, Day, Night, Joy, Pain, Time, Eternity."
I knew that there were enlightened people elsewhere. Gracious. I feel like I'm melting... I'm so lucky to be able to meet these people...

6/27/2008

Reality shows may be the greatest thing that has ever happened to television. With some luck, they'll encourage people to spend less time in front of the TV.

6/25/2008

Science class teaches you (or, it should teach you) that the world is an infinite, indiscriminate swirl. Labels don't stick well, and when they do, we can find no true beginning or end to anything.

Everything, everyone is a little swirl within that swirl. I wish to have no resistance; to be at home in the endless exchange.

But I am learning that my mind and body are full of resistance. So much resistance. Reflexively, it seems that the problem is that which provoked the pain. But the real problem is my resistance. No resistance, no pain.

That doesn't mean surrender. It just means having an open hand, and allowing the swirl to swirl where it swirls.

Is this Daoism? I'd like to learn more about Daoism.

6/18/2008

I hold the world
And it holds me

I let go of the world
It lets me go

There's a reason we have flying dreams
We were born with wings

5/26/2008

Can't Spell "Rambling" Without "Bling"

#1. I think that we often regard the present moment as the mere glue between the past and the future. It's the boring part between the interesting things that happened before and the interesting things yet to come. But that's quite incorrect. The past and future don't exist, nor have they ever existed. The present is the only reality.


#2. I remember, when I was struggling very deeply with depression, I felt like I couldn't see the sky, I couldn't see nature. I could go outside, and I could look at all the trees and such, and I could see that they were lovely, but I couldn't feel it; I couldn't see it. I think that in a sense, when we truly see beauty, we reflect it. It conjures up the beauty within us. (The same goes for anything around us.) When we see a beautiful blue sky, the thing that we enjoy is not necessarily the sky itself, but the feeling that it inspires within us.

Indeed, I still feel that way sometimes. But I feel like I've learned, to a great degree, how to see it. I remember I always used to think, "I'm outside right now, but I'm still carrying the inside with me." I was outside -- I was free -- but I was still trapped with that same feeling that I thought came from being stuck indoors.

There's a story in Zen Buddhism about one of the masters in the tradition. The leader of the monastery, looking to elect the next leader, asked his disciples to compose a poem revealing their wisdom. One of them wrote a poem along the lines of, "Our body is the place of awakening, And our mind is a clear mirror. We must continually polish the mirror, Never letting dust gather." He pointed toward this notion: that perfection is reflecting the beautiful reality in this world*. Keeping one's mind free and open, we are free and open.

Gracious. I've been so antsy lately. I didn't take very good care of myself during the semester. When I look outside, I long for the feeling of freedom that the air and the sunshine seem to possess. But when I go out there, I am still lost in my torrent of thoughts and feelings. The failure is not on the part of nature; it's my failure to escape the torrent! And the only way for the torrent to slow is for me to go right into it; to feel what I am avoiding feeling, and to let arise the thoughts that I am avoiding. I guess I'm avoiding them because I know they'll be painful. Better to be in clear pain for a moment, though, than to be divorced and generally unsettled. Pain always passes, but only when I let it go.

*An illiterate laborer at the monastery had a monk read the poems to him, and he had that monk write one for him and put it up there: "Awakening has no tree, the heart is no mirror; there's nothing at all: Where can dust gather?" He became the successor: there's no need to make oneself free and open; we already are!