The most important message we need to hear and know and remember:
Dec 29, 2010
Dec 24, 2010
Dark Side of the Lens
DARK SIDE OF THE LENS from Astray Films on Vimeo.
-Let your heart beat the fastest...
Dec 4, 2010
On mourning
by Robin M.N.
"You think you're over me, but you're not." she said, not unkindly. "It's not that simple, nor so fast. I know this. I have tread this path before, and the way is long and hard."
"You're right." he said. "I can't help but pine for the warmth of your smile. Your lilting voice, wrapped in mirth. The comfort found in your embrace. All of you, so pleasing to me. How could I deny otherwise? But none of these shall I receive again, now or perhaps ever. If I cannot convince myself that I can live without, how am I to live at all?"
"Loss is ever-present in our lives." she replied. "All is transient. Being human is mourning what has past, celebrating its memory and sharing its essence, so that it may live on within us."
"But you're not dead!" he exclaimed. "How do I grieve what remains, corporeal and out of reach?"
"I am not lost to you." she said gently. "Not really. Though our paths diverge, all that we have shared is woven into the fabric of who we are, and travels always with us."
He began to cry, softly. He said, "But my heart still aches for you, dear. How long will it hurt? And how can I bear the pain?"
"Grief is as a snowflake," she said, "and will take its leave only when warmed by the love we show ourselves. Find the love within, and grief, too, shall pass." At this, she took him in her arms and whispered in his ear. "Knowing only that you are loved, all can be borne."
He sagged against her, his tears flowing faster. His journey had finally begun.
"You think you're over me, but you're not." she said, not unkindly. "It's not that simple, nor so fast. I know this. I have tread this path before, and the way is long and hard."
"You're right." he said. "I can't help but pine for the warmth of your smile. Your lilting voice, wrapped in mirth. The comfort found in your embrace. All of you, so pleasing to me. How could I deny otherwise? But none of these shall I receive again, now or perhaps ever. If I cannot convince myself that I can live without, how am I to live at all?"
"Loss is ever-present in our lives." she replied. "All is transient. Being human is mourning what has past, celebrating its memory and sharing its essence, so that it may live on within us."
"But you're not dead!" he exclaimed. "How do I grieve what remains, corporeal and out of reach?"
"I am not lost to you." she said gently. "Not really. Though our paths diverge, all that we have shared is woven into the fabric of who we are, and travels always with us."
He began to cry, softly. He said, "But my heart still aches for you, dear. How long will it hurt? And how can I bear the pain?"
"Grief is as a snowflake," she said, "and will take its leave only when warmed by the love we show ourselves. Find the love within, and grief, too, shall pass." At this, she took him in her arms and whispered in his ear. "Knowing only that you are loved, all can be borne."
He sagged against her, his tears flowing faster. His journey had finally begun.
Interbeing
From: The Heart of Understanding: Commentaries on the Prajnaparamita Heart Sutra
by Thich Nhat Hanh
If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain; without rain, the trees cannot grow; and without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here either. So we can say that the cloud and the paper inter-are. “Interbeing” is a word that is not in the dictionary yet, but if we combine the prefix “inter-” with the verb “to be,” we have a new verb, inter-be. The cloud and the sheet of paper inter-are.
If we look into this sheet of paper even more deeply, we can see the sunshine in it. If the sunshine is not there, the forest cannot grow. In fact, nothing can grow. Even we cannot grow without sunshine. And so, we know that the sunshine is also in this sheet of paper. The paper and the sunshine inter-are. And if we continue to look, we can see the logger who cut the tree and brought it to the mill to be transformed into paper. And we see the wheat. We know the logger cannot exist without his daily bread, and therefore the wheat that became his bread is also in this sheet of paper. And the logger’s father and mother are in it too. When we look in this way, we see that without all of these things, this sheet of paper cannot exist.
Looking even more deeply, we can see we are in it too. This is not difficult to see, because when we look at a sheet of paper, the sheet of paper is part of our perception. Your mind is in here and mine is also. So we can say that everything is in here with this sheet of paper. You cannot point out one thing that is not here-time, space, the earth, the rain, the minerals in the soil, the sunshine, the cloud, the river, the heat. Everything co-exists with this sheet of paper. That is why I think the word inter-be should be in the dictionary. “To be” is to inter-be. You cannot just be by yourself alone. You have to inter-be with every other thing. This sheet of paper is, because everything else is.
Suppose we try to return one of the elements to its source. Suppose we return the sunshine to the sun. Do you think that this sheet of paper will be possible? No, without sunshine nothing can be. And if we return the logger to his mother, then we have no sheet of paper either. The fact is that this sheet of paper is made up only of “non-paper elements.” And if we return these non-paper elements to their sources, then there can be no paper at all. Without “non-paper elements,” like mind, logger, sunshine and so on, there will be no paper. As thin as this sheet of paper is, it contains everything in the universe in it.
*This is a good link for more on the author. And here is the site for a description of 14 Mindfulness Trainings at the Order of Interbeing.
by Thich Nhat Hanh
If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain; without rain, the trees cannot grow; and without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here either. So we can say that the cloud and the paper inter-are. “Interbeing” is a word that is not in the dictionary yet, but if we combine the prefix “inter-” with the verb “to be,” we have a new verb, inter-be. The cloud and the sheet of paper inter-are.
If we look into this sheet of paper even more deeply, we can see the sunshine in it. If the sunshine is not there, the forest cannot grow. In fact, nothing can grow. Even we cannot grow without sunshine. And so, we know that the sunshine is also in this sheet of paper. The paper and the sunshine inter-are. And if we continue to look, we can see the logger who cut the tree and brought it to the mill to be transformed into paper. And we see the wheat. We know the logger cannot exist without his daily bread, and therefore the wheat that became his bread is also in this sheet of paper. And the logger’s father and mother are in it too. When we look in this way, we see that without all of these things, this sheet of paper cannot exist.
Looking even more deeply, we can see we are in it too. This is not difficult to see, because when we look at a sheet of paper, the sheet of paper is part of our perception. Your mind is in here and mine is also. So we can say that everything is in here with this sheet of paper. You cannot point out one thing that is not here-time, space, the earth, the rain, the minerals in the soil, the sunshine, the cloud, the river, the heat. Everything co-exists with this sheet of paper. That is why I think the word inter-be should be in the dictionary. “To be” is to inter-be. You cannot just be by yourself alone. You have to inter-be with every other thing. This sheet of paper is, because everything else is.
Suppose we try to return one of the elements to its source. Suppose we return the sunshine to the sun. Do you think that this sheet of paper will be possible? No, without sunshine nothing can be. And if we return the logger to his mother, then we have no sheet of paper either. The fact is that this sheet of paper is made up only of “non-paper elements.” And if we return these non-paper elements to their sources, then there can be no paper at all. Without “non-paper elements,” like mind, logger, sunshine and so on, there will be no paper. As thin as this sheet of paper is, it contains everything in the universe in it.
*This is a good link for more on the author. And here is the site for a description of 14 Mindfulness Trainings at the Order of Interbeing.
The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.
It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.
Visit Oriah's site here.
It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.
It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.
Visit Oriah's site here.
Aug 25, 2010
Auschwitz Survivor Celebrating Life
Auschwitz survivor dancing to "I will survive" with grandson outside of camp.
Thanks to Raniah S. for the link.
Mar 26, 2010
Do not mourn for me
When I die no one should miss me, no one should be sad. I want to vanish into the everything and nothingness where the root of all lies. Back to where I came from. I will never be alone: if I am not alone here, even less there!
When I die, there is no reason to cry, no reason to mourn. Not even for the usual 10 minutes people mourn for. For I have lived that way I've wanted. I have lived what I was meant to live. for i have enjoyed it, loved it, felt it. Yes, I have felt and I have loved. I have been both selfish and generous, self-absorbed and yet compassionate.
I am not afraid! Fear is unnecessary, redundant, and unwise. Death is nothing but our return to the womb of the universe, where there is boundless energy and unlimited potential. There we all are one, one and the same. There, we are not brothers and sisters, father and son, we are not friends or enemies, nor lovers or sinners. We are the source.
No! Do not mourn for me when I die. If anything, celebrate the instant that we shared in life.
When I die, there is no reason to cry, no reason to mourn. Not even for the usual 10 minutes people mourn for. For I have lived that way I've wanted. I have lived what I was meant to live. for i have enjoyed it, loved it, felt it. Yes, I have felt and I have loved. I have been both selfish and generous, self-absorbed and yet compassionate.
I am not afraid! Fear is unnecessary, redundant, and unwise. Death is nothing but our return to the womb of the universe, where there is boundless energy and unlimited potential. There we all are one, one and the same. There, we are not brothers and sisters, father and son, we are not friends or enemies, nor lovers or sinners. We are the source.
No! Do not mourn for me when I die. If anything, celebrate the instant that we shared in life.
Mar 13, 2010
Big Basin
I lie down on the wet redwood forest soil and rest there for what seems a brief moment, long enough to cool down after a two-hour hike. It is a bright and rainy day. There is no wind and M. and I do not mind getting a little wet as long as it is not too cold. We stop here and enjoy the view silently, each at our own spot. I am afraid that if I rest any longer I won’t be able to get up. Darkness is fast approaching and we still need to find our trail and hike back.
As I get up I brush my hand against the back of my head so as to shake off any excess water. I feel a thick, sticky substance stuck to my hair. I smell it. Tree sap. It smells lovely like pine trees and incense, but proves impossible to get rid off. The big lump on my hair is solidly stuck to my scalp and no nail is long enough, no scratching hard enough to get rid of it. I resign, “I’ll deal with it at home, with a hot shower”.
The hike back is relatively easy. Though we think are lost, it only takes us five minutes of walking in a straight line to find a trail and a road. Disappointed, not ready to get back to the car, we make it a point to get lost again. We go deeper downhill into the forest on the other side of the road.
Our attempt to get lost is quickly ended when we find a new trail after a clearing. We follow it shortly only to discover a little creek running from right to left in front of us. M. sees a big tree trunk that crosses the creek at a forty-five degree angle; the end on this side is propped up high, higher than M. can reach, and the other end rests on the ground across the creek. She gives that tree trunk a try, even though it is wet, slippery and dangerous. I opt for crossing the water through a shallower part of the creek. After all, the water seems refreshing. I take off my heavy hiking boots and socks and put the socks inside the shoes. Already I feel smarter than M.
Halfway into the creek, I look up and see M. struggling to get up there but thoroughly enjoying the process. Then I come to a slippery part and decide to free my hands throwing both shoes to the other side. Poor attempt. My shoes are caught in the current and are tagging along for an adventure of their own.
I scream. M. is located further down the river and I hope she has seen what just happened and helps me recover the shoes. Far cry. She is still holding hard onto the tree trunk. She tells me to go after them but in my head the shoes have too big an advantage over me. I am stuck in the middle of the creek. She insists, so I go for it.
I rush back to where I started. I run along the edge of the creek down river, eyes scanning the water efficiently like a machine or rather, like a hungry predator. Need not look further; a few meters from me is one of the shoes stuck in a branch of drift wood in the water. I jump in, retrieve and look around for the other one. Nothing. Boot’s brown as the water, and I see nothing. I cross the creek barefoot and start making my way down river. I run and slump; the soil is wet, the current fast.
What seems like 20 minutes pass and I am still looking. By now, M. has finally made it across and is looking at me in amusement. I laugh, trying not to be bothered or sad. But I am slightly sad and upset. Still laughing, I ask M. if she thinks I should keep this faithful shoe as a keepsake, a Big Basin souvenir of sorts and a reminder of my outdoor incompetence. Either that or I should throw it away since it’s no use carrying it.
M. is sorry and offers me her shoes. I say no thanks but I’ll gladly take her socks. And I still can’t believe what I just did back there, giving my shoes to the current in the middle of a hike! Despite what I said earlier, I decide to keep the shoe, but only to use it as a pot for a plant. Like in the movie.
As we walk back on our tracks I silently and gently curse myself with every stick and stone I step on. As we are passing the spot where the disaster took place I take one last look around. Swiftly, I put down the boot, take my sweater and jacket off and jump into the creek. I cannot believe my luck; stuck in driftwood is my other shoe. I scream and rejoice. Never have I been happier about a pair of shoes. M. is joyful too.
Jan 24, 2010
In every breath
in every breath
if you’re the center
of your own desires
you’ll lose the grace
of your beloved
but if in every breath
you blow away
your self claim
the ecstasy of love
will soon arrive
in every breath
if you’re the center
of your own thoughts
the sadness of autumn
will fall on you
but if in every breath
you strip naked
just like a winter
the joy of spring
will grow from within
all your impatience
comes from the push
for gain of patience
let go of the effort
and peace will arrive
all your unfulfilled desires
are from your greed
for gain of fulfillments
let go of them all
and they will be sent as gifts
fall in love with
the agony of love
not the ecstasy
then the beloved
will fall in love with you
Rumi
Translation by Nader Khalili
“Rumi, Fountain of Fire”
Cal-Earth Press, 1994
if you’re the center
of your own desires
you’ll lose the grace
of your beloved
but if in every breath
you blow away
your self claim
the ecstasy of love
will soon arrive
in every breath
if you’re the center
of your own thoughts
the sadness of autumn
will fall on you
but if in every breath
you strip naked
just like a winter
the joy of spring
will grow from within
all your impatience
comes from the push
for gain of patience
let go of the effort
and peace will arrive
all your unfulfilled desires
are from your greed
for gain of fulfillments
let go of them all
and they will be sent as gifts
fall in love with
the agony of love
not the ecstasy
then the beloved
will fall in love with you
Rumi
Translation by Nader Khalili
“Rumi, Fountain of Fire”
Cal-Earth Press, 1994
Jan 14, 2010
La Colonia Ecologica
La Colonia Ecologica from amy burns on Vimeo.
"This is about an orphanage/ day care center that a couple started because they wanted to help get kids off the streets and began by putting tents up in their backyard. It is now an orphanage and day care center for over one hundred children self ran by only one "mom" and "dad" as they teach their kids to take care of each other as a family."
-Amy Burns
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