changing the world and standing still

do you want to improve the world?
i don't think it can be done.

the world is sacred.
it can't be improved.
if you tamper with it, you'll ruin it.
if you treat it like an object, you'll lose it.

there is a time for being ahead,
a time for being behind;
a time for being in motion,
a time for being at rest;
a time for being vigorous,
a time for being exhausted;
a time for being safe,
a time for being in danger.

the master sees things as they are,
without trying to control them.
she lets them go their own way,
and resides at the center of the circle.
tao de ching-29

we hopped the amtrak in salinas.
barbara and i headed to santa barbara
on my birthday to visit marilyn,
see odysseus and mend the world!

train travel is one of the perfect go-aheads.
fast and slow at the same time.
the coast starlight travels along the edge.
one of my favorite pastimes!

barbara had prepared a bag full of provisions;
we had books, crossword puzzles,
(thanks to loel) and death valley playing cards.
we had each other to ourselves..

felicity was heading south with her two young sons
to visit grandmother and grand papa.
she and the boys had a quality and presence
that opened out to the landscape.
while barbara and i were
creating a virtual tarot reading,
felicity quietly 'grokked'
the magic and mystery of it!
we enjoyed one another's company;
she told us of the 13 grandmothers.
http://www.grandmotherscouncil.com/

when we disembarqued,
she gifted me her turquoise necklace
as company on my journey.
we will meet again, she said,
as we bowed our good-byes
laced with namaste.

we arrived late, a bit rail weary.
marilyn met us at the station.
rejoicing in our rendezvous,
we headed to her home where birthday soup,
birthday cake and surprizes were waiting!

i had envisioned marilyn, barbara and me
making 'free hugs' signs over the long
week-end and placing ourselves on a
busy corner in santa barbara,
joining the freehugscampaign.org
barbara and marilyn agreed to the adventure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vr3x_RRJdd4

the next day was busy..
i was to meet a woman in the neighboring towne
who had a cat and a house that needed sitting.
we required paper for our hug project.
there was a mending circle where a group of
fine women gathered monthly to mend;
their clothing, their hearts, the world.
we had tickets to see the odyssey.
this is a production presented
by the boxtale theatre company.
it may be an annual event as marilyn had
seen it once before and was enthralled.
she treated us to homer's epic.
breathtaking!

it was sign time on sunday morning.
we three turned into 5-year-oldes
designing, tracing and colouring
our unique and particular placards.

before we met the world,
we retreated to the vedanta temple
where we sat in stillness imagining
huge inescapable hugs!
the solitude opened our hearts.
we were able to cultivate courage,
tenderness
and
yes! indeedy..the good humour man!

marilyn had the perfect spot for us.
it was in/around a large shopping
area on state street.
we parked in a nearby garage..
the first 75 minutes free..
isn't that generous?
and walked with our signs
to the large open space in the mall.

we had made three free hug
signs and the fourth was a large arrow..
to point the way!
(thank marilyn for that direction!)
b. was a bit hug shy so she took the arrow.
it started off slow..
i heard someone say..
look! more free hugs!

wouldn't you know..
down where the mall meets the street
(where the river meets the sea)
there was jerry
with his rainbow free hugs sign..
jerrymatteo@cox.net
he posts himself on state street
most sundays..
this sunday he was being videoed
by students for a film project.
we joined jerry..
who was flabberghasted
(and delighted) at our presence.

there was the tall homeless man..
with startled eyes..
i engaged him with mine..questioning..
no, no..he couldn't cross over..
..for a hug..he walked away..
only to return slowly ..
watching intently with his hand to his head..
marilyn encouraged a hug for him;
no, no..not just yet..
he stood still.. witnessing..
the joy of huggers abounding..
marilyn faced him again gently;
no, no.. not yet..

all the while there is boisterous
laughter..many takers for hugs..
young children, teen-age girls,
handsome young men who were so eager
to step right up into any one's arms!
one last time marilyn urged the
the wondering wanderer..tenderly..
but no, no..not this time.
he walked on.
we held him in our heartminds
long after the signs were put away.

a nurse came up to me to harvest a hug.
she instructed me
on the rights and lefts
of arms and hands and hearts.
'no patting on the back,' she advised.
3..that's three..hugs a day
to lower blood pressure.
we went in for the count;
one..big squeeze!
two..bigger still..
three..the grande amour!

barbara is writing
a short story of the hugging day.
marilyn is hooked, lined and hugged.
we are planning our next adventure!

as we were leaving,
a man approached me.
he spoke with a german accent.
i saw on his jacket a lapel pin
with two flags crossed;
one, american..
the other german.

"what is hug?" he asked.
i gave him the biggest bear hug
i could conjure up..
'THIS - this is hug!'

i met one traveling

in the evening between sleep and waking
i met one traveling. he was the light of consciousness.
his body was soul, his pure wisdom apparent
in his beautiful face.

he praises me for awhile, then scolds.
you sit on the seven-sky throne, in prison.
the sign of gemini has set a table for you,
yet you stick your head down a drainhole again.

essence is not nourished with food and sleep.
do no one any harm in this timefield
of short crops where what you sow comes up very quickly.
you try to accomplish things, to win,
to reach goals. this is not the true situation.
put the whole world in ambition's stomach,
it will never be enough.

assume you get everything you want,
assume you have it now. what's the point?
the next moment you die.

friend, the youth you have lived is ending.
you sleep a drunken dreamless sleep
with no sense what morning you could wake inside.
-rumi

postmaster

i love to get lettres in the mail.

i also love to write cards and lettres;
the paper, pen, ink..the stamps.
lettre writing is the one thing
i miss the most out on the road.

mother teresa was a lettre writer.
she actually sat down daily to type out
thank you notes to everyone who sent
donations to her missionary of charities.
the first time i saw mother t.
she was tucked into her small office
tap, tap, tapping away
on the keys of her remington!

sudha and i had traveled to calcutta
to meet mother t...
possibly to volunteer
at the home of the dying
or the home for spastic children.

mother teresa was a small, sturdy oak tree.
her gnarled hands and feet were the
colour of baked tree bark.
her eyes were the brightest stars
one sees in broad daylight.

after we had met and she found out that
i was from the states, she asked me if
i would kindly take a lettre back..
to mail for her.
o my o
of course, i would be most happy to!

she took my face in her hands,
(i had bent down to receive the blessing)
she knocked noggins with me,
nuzzling my forehead to hers..
and with a great smile, thanked me.

after our days in calcutta were over,
we returned to the missionary
to collect the lettre.
mother teresa and the nuns
greeted us with a huge bag of mail,
filled to the very tip top
with small hand typed lettres
addressed to persons in the americas
thanking them for their kind donations.

of course, there were no stamps
on any of them..that was my job!

as i was handed the bulging bundle,
mother t. asked again
if i would deliver "a lettre" for her..
her star eyes twinkling
in question mark ???

i said..
indeed! under one condition...

now, one really doesn't
put conditions on mother teresa..
so the nuns that surrounded us
were a bit stunned..
mother t. narrowed her bright eyes,
looked sideways at me and waited...

venturing into unknown territory,
i requested..
will you please twiggle-twaggle my head again?
the nuns laughed in relief as
mother teresa took my head
in her oak branch fingers once more..
she knocked our third eyes together..
shaktipat!
i've never been the same!

traveling back home
with the carry-on
of mother teresa's mail
was a great gift to me
and the many students
that awaited my return.

the thank you lettres
were shared amongst
the yoginis and yogis..
(remembre?)
each taking a dozen or so..
to be stamped and sent off
to south american countries
and every state in the union!

today is my birthday!
feel free to drop me a line!

wesak moon..bleu moon

this is a bleu moon month.
wesak is an auspicious moon;
the veil betwixt worlds
is thin and much Work
is tended to by the
office of the buddha and the office of the christ.
it is a time when the blessings flow.
wesak is always the
full moon of may.

in the east it is said
that this moon celebrates:
the birth of buddha,
the awakening of buddha,
the death or parinirvana of buddha.

i was in retreat on the night
of wesak full moon, may 2nd..
at the vedanta retreat house
in olema.
i would be there for five days..
what a fine way to assimilate
the teachings just received
in s. f. with hhdl!

the grounds have quail by the dozen,
varieties of deer, rabbits, snakes,
mountain lions, ravens galore..
hawks of every flavor..
eucalyptus trees homeopath the breeze.
the rolling hills appear like
a close shave in golden-greens.

mangala was the caretaker
for the days i was there.
she is a spirited, light-hearted
woman open to the magical mystery!
we instantly became friends.

now, retreat is just that..
the backward step that leads one forward..
a time for solitude and inner reflection.

my new merrill boots were itching to be
tested and point reyes station was
three miles up hwy 1.
although it is looked down upon,
it is allowed to go to towne for
groceries, if need be..
i informed mangala that i was
walking in and she informed me
she would like to join me!

we sauntered slow and easy along
the shoulder..where we found
a beautiful fox.. no longer alive..
which we moved into the tall
grasses with prayers and blessings.
the red-wings were out in full throttle,
the buzzards were carousing the light wind.
the sun was brilliant.

the best bakery this side of that..
is the bovine bakery..
i treated mangala to a cheese doodle-le-do
and bought myself a bear claw..
to be eaten one toe at a time!

as we were walking to the chai wallah,
we passed the display window
of point reyes books
and were both drawn
to a title in the window..
the walk

we went in to ask about it
only to find that it was not
what we had in mind..
but dawn led us to another-
walk in a relaxed manner
a book about the camino campestelo.

mangala spilled the beans about my walk.
this led to a bit of interest
and dawn suggested
planetwalk
by the local author,
john francis.
he lives in point reyes
with his wife and two sons.

john has walked around the planet for 22 years
and 17 of those years were in silence!
he travels around the world speaking
on pilgrimage and change.
he is developing planetlines,
an environmental studies curriculum
based on the walking pilgrimage.

the book store called john
to see if we could meet.
mangala gifted me with the two books.
we hopped the bus back
to the retreat house as mangala
was needed to greet new retreatants.
much hustle and bustle for
our solitary refinement!
oops!

the next morning i was out on the hwy
heading toward point reyes.
john met me on the road
in his red prius..
just like sallie's!
we were able to talk for
some time about walking;
the inner and outer journey..
shoes, cars and fierce grace.

john echos the words of many ..
the most important thing is
...kindness ...

the second full moon of the month
is the bleu moon..coming on the 31st.
auspicious!

the pelicans are back

maybe they never left..
the silhouette of their jawbones
across the skyline is unmistakable.


"Oh, a wondrous bird is the pelican!
His bill holds more than his belican.
He can take in his beak
Enough food for a week.
But I'm darned if I know how the helican."
Dixon Lanier Merritt

i am sleeping in the upstairs room
at my friend's house.
there is a window at the head of the bed.
the bark of the harbour seals
can actually keep one awake at night;
the chime of church bells too.

when i awoke this morning
and had a penny peep out the window,
the fog-filled sky and the misty sea
were married, one to the other..
no beginning of salt water,
no end to great sky..
i thought i was seeing a large V
in the water..looking wider, longer, deeper
it was a fishing boat afloat in mid-aire!

my early stroll was blessed by a large V
in the morning sky..
a fishing boat of pelicans..
a dozen or more..
the big chins..the stall of the wing..
the uncomplicated ruckus they don't make..
they arrive at dawn, then sweep away at dusk.


look at the trees, look at the birds,
look at the clouds, look at the stars..
and if you have eyes you will be able
to see that the whole of existence is joyful.
everything is simply happy.
trees are happy for no reason,
they are not going to become
prime ministers or presidents;
they are not going to become rich,
they will never have any bank balance.
look at the birds..
it is simply unbelievable
how happy birds are!
osho

thank you note

the 4 immeasurables..
my nick name for the four
of us at the teachings...
each received a thank-you card
from the gyuto monks.
(www.gyutocenter.org)

mine said:
compassion
usually, our concept
of compassion or love
refers to the feeling
of closeness we have
with our friends and loved ones.
sometimes compassion also
carries a sense of pity.
this is wrong.
any love or compassion
which entails looking down
on the other
is not genuine compassion.
to be genuine,
compassion must be based
on respect for the other,
and on the realization
that others have the right
to be happy and overcome suffering,
just as much as you do.
on this basis,
since you can see
that others are suffering,
you develop a genuine
sense of concern for them.
HHDL

perfecto!

harmonic convergence

there were four of us that converged
at the marque du san fran
to be in the good graces
and grande company of HHDL
(his holiness, the 14th dalai lama)
and one another.

there was gail s.-
whose capacity for deep listening
is fathomless;
her story-telling beyond compare..
there was susan s.-
whose subtle tastes for food
kept us watering at the mouth;
guessing ingredients at every dish..
and nancy b.-
whose sharp wit and dry humour
made laughter our mantra
for the four+ days we spent together..

the weather was exceptionally
warm during the day;
the wind kicked us around at night.
the city was filled with the fragrance
of exotic flowers and homeless ones..
HHDL made mention in his public talk
that he would like to help feed them
at one of the nearby soup kitchens.
when asked of the number of homeless,
he was told nearly 5000-6000 of them.
we each surmised there were many more than that!

the teachings were from two texts:
the main text,
in praise of dependent origination
was spontaneously composed by je tsongkhapa
and is considered one of the most profound
in tibetan buddhism in that it addresses
the relationship between emptiness,
the ultimate nature of reality,
and dependent origination:
the realization that things do not exist
independently from other factors,
such as causes and conditions.

the supplemental text,
hymn to [the buddha] the world transendent
was compose by nagajuna.
our beloved teacher actually
spent the lion's share (roar)
on the supplemental!

we all came away with....
"no arising and no disintegration"

"an existent thing does not arise;
nor does a non-existent as well, nor does both;
neither from itself nor from another,
nor from both; how can there be arising?"

we ate well.
we did our karmic yoga..
distributing pamphlets
for the tibetan nuns project.
(tnpusa@igc.org)
we were all walkmongers..
past larkin and larkin
to mission and 21st
to bush and stockton
to the ferry building
and back..
we listened to poems
from the homeless,
offered spare change,
ate chocolate
and flirted with..
what was his name?

as quickly as we descended,
we all ascended..
each to their own
world transcendent..
reflecting..
"by what means can i enhance this teaching..?"

the more we care for the happiness of others,
the greater our own sense of well-being becomes.
cultivating a close, warm-hearted feeling
for others automatically puts the mind at ease.
it is the ultimate source of success of life.
-HHDL

asanga and the dog

"hope you can forgive yourself for your reaction to the man on the bus. You aren't permanently stained or anything. (Was that foam he rubbed on the pole?) Maybe he was really a dog? You are still shining brightly." jw

"Isn’t it wonderful to have all these holy beings guiding us each day! I know that homeless person in Bandon was truly an emanation of a Buddha testing the deepest part of your heart." ml

receiving these two e-mails
from precious friends
this morning..
i recall -
asanga and maitreya..

asanga began by meditating
very diligently on maitreya.
he practiced for three years and did not seem
to be getting any results.
he became very depressed
because he had not accomplished
anything in his meditation.
he then left his retreat.
he saw a pigeon leaving
its nest in a rock face.
he noticed how the entrance hole had been worn smooth
by the feathers of generations of pigeons.
seeing this example of continued application
he was inspired to diligence
and returned to his retreat.

after a further three years
without result he again became depressed.
asanga left his retreat hermitage.
this time he encountered a man
who was removing dirt
from the top of a high hill.
asanga discovered that the man was removing
the dirt because the hill was blocking the sun,
which he hoped would shine on his house.
asanga was so impressed by this man’s perseverance
that he decided to enter retreat once more.

depressed after another three years without result,
asanga again left his retreat.
this time he met a man
rubbing an iron bar with a cloth.
intrigued by this, asanga asked what he was doing.
he was told he was making a sewing needle.
inspired by such diligence
and forbearance for such a small return,
asanga returned to his retreat.

having meditated for twelve years
he still did not feel he was getting
anywhere with his meditation.
deeply depressed, he left his retreat
and on the way he saw a dog
that was very sick and thin.
the dog was angry; ready to bite.

suddenly, asanga felt strong compassion
for the dog because he noticed
that the dog had worms in its wounds.
he wanted to remove the worms to help the dog,
but realized that if he pulled off the worms,
he would kill them.
it was a choice between killing the worms
or leaving the worms on the dog
which would eventually cause the dog to die.

asanga, overwhelmed by strong compassion for both,
felt that he must find a way to get
the worms out of the dog’s wounds.
he thought, “if i take the worms off with my tongue,
then the worms will not be hurt; the dog will get better.”
he leaned down and stuck out his tongue.
instead of touching the dog, asanga touched the ground.

maitreya appeared before him.
seeing maitreya he exclaimed,
“how is this possible?
i have been practicing this meditation
for twelve years and haven’t been able to meet you.
you haven't much compassion for me.”
maitreya said, “it wasn’t my lack of compassion.
i was there the whole time
but you couldn't see;
you had too many obscurations.
after twelve years of practice,
your obscurations had become so slight
that when you saw the dog
your compassion enabled you to see me.”

to prove the point, maitreya suggested that asanga
go into the nearby village with maitreya on his shoulder
and ask people what they could see.
most of the villagers saw nothing.
they thought him crazy
except for one old lady who asked
why he was carrying a wounded dog on his shoulder.

"i like a bit of a mongrel myself,
whether it is a man or a dog;
they're the best for everyday!"
george bernard shaw

inventory

in my osprey back pack,
i have 2 pairs of underwear.
there is a space blanket,
an extra pair of tennis shoes,
2 pairs of smart wool sox,
2 camisoles; 1 wool, 1 silk.
i have gortex rain pants,
1 smart wool long sleeve t-shirt,
a hoody, a light rain jacket
and a wool knit cap.
there is a bag of tricks..
tooth brush and paste, a comb,
face creme, floss and bandaids.
1 small book, a pen
and a red blinking light.
a bag of sage, a flashlight
and a small mirror..
talismans offered by friends
along the way..

when i met up with companions
in san francisco for the teachings
with the dalai lama,
susan s. brought me a duffel
full of clothes for the city..
now i had an abundance
of socks, pants, shoes
and prayer shawls.

..an abundance of choices..
too many laundry opportunities!

simplicity, simplicity, simplicity!
i say, let your affairs be as
two or three,
and not a hundred or a thousand;
instead of a million
count half a dozen,
and keep your accounts
on your thumb nail.
henry david thoreau

tidbits

the most popular rear view mirror
dangler is the dream catcher;
followed by the hawaiian lei.

there are large quantities
of whipping creme cans along the highways.

contrary to popular belief,
there are still plenty of bees around.

most men in big trucks wiggle
their fingers when they wave.

libraries are a national treasure.

string cheese isn't really stringy.

the endless road
is the only one
worth traveling.

the best way to spread the message
of peace and love
is to live a happy, peaceful life.

the great divine

equanimity!
how that shows up for each of us
in the bardo of daily lives..
to see others as ourselves..
it is the golden rule, yes?
seeing the similarities
rather than the differences..

there but for fortune
go you or i

it is interesting to me..
that the great fall that splatted
me ground ward was the homeless
gent on the bus at bandon..
my failure to see the divine
in everyone...

i remembre mother teresa
telling of the actual moment
when she bent down to pick up
her first dying man
on the streets of calcutta..
she said she walked down the stairs,
to the streets many times ..
before she scooped up the fragile
bag of bones and carried him
to the home of the dying..
her work had begun..
she never looked back!
o my o

it seems to me..
that since i met the bag of bones
on the bus... the homeless man..
that is where i might
take the walk..back to the bus..
to face the self..
my desire to walk across the u. s. of a.
started on the greyhound
some 40 years ago..
awe-inspiring to think
that the walk will lead me
back to the bus..
where i feel my peace work
will have deep roots!

we go where it is the darkest
in our very selves and bring
great brilliance to the shade,
the shadow..
seeing the thing
for what it is..
embracing with grace
the black dragon..

feels like peace to me!
the great divine..

the homeless man on the bandon bus
is with me every day..
i am breathing him in..
it is my wish that he remembres me in his prayers!
he is in mine..

the fork

"when you come to the fork in the road, take it."
yogi berra

'tis over two months..
(is that all?)
since i walked out of my home towne
with bright intent and a brisk gait.
what a brilliant scene with the many
who joined in!

since then, the adventures of
walking for peace, being peace..
being non-peace, being non-being,
have earned me the certificate
of 'only this'.

i have met myself on the road.
(kill her!)
stood on the threshold
of the abyss..
opened the gate..
thrown in the ring.
(it is still on my bloody finger!)

the practice walk has
grifted me much:
the simple and honest truth
that my 'want to'
isn't big enough to get me across
the u. s. of a.
..at this time..

ah! so.. amigas and amigos!
i admit to great disappointment.
it feels a bit like i have
walked halfway up the mountain;
a feat j. krishnamurti would call mediocre!
eeeckkk!

and yet..it is downright silly for me
not to
listen to my heart..
that is the essence of peace,
eh?
it was a test, the practice walk..
to see what i was made of..
i admit to flimsy..
it has earned me some proud flesh,
however.

and so..
i am still on the road..
all who wander are not lost
on the peace trail..
awaiting instructions..


see how the flesh grows back across a wound,
with a great vehemence,
more strong than the simple, untested surface before.
there's a name for it on horses,
when it comes back darker and raised:
proud flesh...
a single fabric
that nothing can tear...

the journey itself
was not so difficult..
it simply came down to..
spending
that much time,
that much energy
on the shoulders
of the roads
that are very narrow
(we like broad shoulders!)
full of exhaust
(it is exhausting)
with large cars, fast drivers
and things that go bump in the light!

not for this puppy..

as yogi says:
"it ain't over 'til it's over."

this is the lesson...

...in following the way -

remember it.

how do you follow the way?

go where you are sent.
wait until you are shown what to do.
do it with your whole self.
remain until you have done what you are sent to do.
walk away with empty hands.

how much will it cost?

the cost is everything,
for all you are and all you have
will be asked of you
before the journey runs its course.

how will you know your fellow travelers?

their faces will be marked by scars of love.
no one will ever tell you that the way is easy;
only that it is possible.
no one can tell you if the journey is worthwhile,
for your wages are concealed.
they will be shown you only on the last day of eternity.

but whoever chooses to follow the way
will have company as fellow travelers
and a resting place at journey's end
in the Mecca of the heart.

unknown age

for all the features it hoards and displays
age seems to be without substance at any time

whether morning or evening it is a moment of air
held between the hands like a stunned bird

while i stand remembering light in the trees
of another century on a continent long submerged

with no way of telling whether the leaves at that time
felt memory as they were touching the day

and no knowledge of what happened to the reflections
on the pond's surface that were never seen again

the bird lies still while the light goes on flying

- w.s. merwin


what is it that keeps us wanting what we had before?
or for that matter - what we have never held?
settling into the presence of breath, light..
the full belly..the empty fist..
the days float by like honey pie
we are sticky with the sweetness of life
the unknown step, step
that walks us further into now


'solvitur ambulando'
it is solved by walking

the power of peace

it is my wish that the spiritual power of peace
will touch the mind of every person on this earth;
radiating out from deep peace within our own minds,
across political and religious barriers,
across the barriers of ego and conceptual righteousness.
our first work as peacemakers is to clear our minds
of mental conflicts caused by ignorance, anger,
grasping, jealousy and pride. spiritual teachers
can guide us in the purification of these poisons
and through this purification of our own minds,
we can learn the very essence of peacemaking.

the inner peace we seek should be so absolutely pure,
so stable, that it cannot be moved to anger by those
who live and profit by war or to self-grasping and fear
by confrontation with contempt, hatred and death.
incredible patience is necessary to accomplish any aspect
of world peace. the source of such patience is the space
of inner peace from which you recognize with great clarity
that war and suffering are the outer reflections
of the minds' inner poisons.

if you truly understand that the essential difference
in peace-makers and war-makers is that peace-makers
have a discipline and control over egotistical anger,
grasping, jealousy and pride while the war-makers,
in their ignorance, manifest the results of these poisons
in the world - if you truly understand this,
you will never allow yourself to be defeated from within or without.

tibetan buddhists use the peacock as the symbol of the bodhisattva,
the awakened peacemaker who works for the enlightenment
of all sentient beings. the peacock is said
to eat poisonous plants and to transmute them into
the gorgeous colours of its feathers.
it does not poison itself, just as we who wish for peace
must not poison ourselves.

as you meet the powerful, worldly men who sit at the top
of the war machines, regard them with strict equanimity.
convince them as effectively as you know how, but be
constantly aware of your own state of mind.
if you begin to experience anger, retreat.
if you can go on without anger, perhaps you will
penetrate the terrible delusion that causes war
and all its hellish sufferings.

from the clear space of your own inner peace,
your compassion must expand to include all those
who are involved in war - the soldiers caught
in the cruel karma of killing and who sacrifice
their precious human rebirth; the generals and politicians
who intend to benefit but cause disruption and death instead;
the civilians who are killed, wounded and turned into refugees.
true compassion is utterly neutral and is moved by
suffering of every sort, not tied to right or wrong,
attachment or aversion.

the work of peace is a spiritual path in itself,
a means to develop perfect qualities of mind
and to test these qualities against urgent necessity,
extreme suffering and death.
do not be afraid to give your time, energy and wealth.

chagdud tulku
the path of compassion