Sunday, February 27, 2011

zorba and the fortune cookie

"......the highest point man can attain
is not Knowledge,
or Virtue,
or Goodness,
or Victory,
but something even greater,
more heroic and more despairing:
Sacred Awe!

"We are little grubs, Zorba,
minute grubs on the small leaf of a tremendous tree.
The small leaf is the earth.
The other leaves are the stars that you see moving at night.
We make our way on this little leaf examining it anxiously and carefully.
We smell it; it smells good or bad to us.
We taste it and find it eatable.
We beat on it and it cries out like a living thing.

"Some of us --
the more intrepid ones --
reach the edge of the leaf.
From there we stretch out, gazing into chaos.
We tremble.
We guess what a frightening abyss lies beneath us.
In the distance we can hear the noise
of the other leaves of the tremendous tree,
we feel the sap rising from the root of our leaf
and our hearts swell.
Bent thus over the awe-inspiring abyss,
with all our bodies and all our souls,
we tremble with terror.
From that moment begins poetry,
…begins the great danger, Zorba.
Some grow dizzy and delirious, others are afraid;
they try to find an answer to strengthen their hearts,
and they say: 'God'!
Others again, from the edge of the leaf,
look over the precipice calmly and bravely and say:
'I like it.'!"
~ nikos kazanzakis

you are attracted to things
with an exotic flavor
and will travel soon.

for me..
i know i chase virture..goodness..
it is a challenge ~ to be vigilant
and free myself from that chase..
true moksha/liberation is the
absence of anything outside/other than
the is of what is..

galway kinnell

whatever happens.
whatever what is is is
what i want.
only that. but that.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

leaving a sheltering home....

a' journeying..
just plan traveling about..
is all about leaving the sweet safety net
of a sheltering home~

mark twain tells us....
strange travel plans = dancing lessons from god
take one away from the cozy nest ~
out..out into exposure..
exposure to weather, to airplane aire, to the general public !!
(all mother sentient beings...)
to our fellow man/woman/child/dogs, cats, parrots, etc..
exposure to food that is not the food of our family,
toilets that look very different than our tidy thrones,
beds that are lumpy, clerks that are grumpy...
exposure to the interior of ones very own self..

how do we dance with all that is given?

remembering my last trip to india..
arriving at my seat on the plane to discover that
i was placed on the aisle..thank goodness..
in the very last row on the plane..o woe!
you may well know that the seats do not..not..i repeat..
move back..nada reclining position nor reasonable facimile..
i looked to my neighbour, a young indian gent..
and began to exclaim that no! indeed not.. do our seats
move in any direction..growl, gruff, grrrr..
he smiled brightly..shaking his head..
"we are the lucky ones, dear..we are the lucky ones.."

this from rumi....

a baby pigeon stands on the edge of a nest all day.
then she hears a whistle, come to me.
how could she not fly toward that?

wings tear through the body's robe
when a letter arrives that says,

you have flapped and fluttered against limits long enough.
you have been a bird without wings
in a house without doors or windows.

compassion builds the door.
restlessness cuts the key.

ask. step off into air like a baby pigeon.
strut proudly into sunlight, not looking back.

take sips of this pure wine being poured.
do not mind if you have been given an unwashed cup.

there is some hidden delight to be free
from the sheltering home..
to test my murky waters of graciousness, willingness,
gratitude for seats at the edge of the nest..
twigged and ruffled and ready for yes!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

deep listening

it's time to turn the tv off
and listen.
that noise?
what is it?
maybe it's only crickets.

maybe it's distant music.
maybe people are dancing
somewhere not far from here,
the beloved among them.

out into the street-
we need to investigate,
to find out what's there.

even if it's only crickets.

~ gregory orr

Friday, February 18, 2011

mediterranees ~ ranaud garcia-fons

"everything is music.
a painting, a landscape, a book
or a journey are worthless
unless you can hear their music."
jacques de bourbon-busset

in order to get cellular with the greek isles..
(i'll be on patmos for two months..)
this music was delivered on the wings of a raven..
may i suggest you find
the insert offers poetry to the cells..
the music nourishes the invisible places
that soon sprout weeds of love..
love weeds?

so peaceishealthy is launched once again..
listen.. i hear the music of great liberation..
shall we be?