|DR. ROBERT PUFF|
The Best of the Internet's Nonduality Email Lists, Forums, Web sites, and More
Editors: Jerry Katz,
Gloria Lee, Christiana Duranczyk, Michael Read,
Highlights Issue #1064
Tuesday, May 7, 2002
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--- In Illuminata@y...,
Mace Mealer wrote:
To what end is this moment given?
Does ones reach exceed one's grasp
or one's grasp exceed ones reach?
Where beyond now does
the past and future lie?
What doorway that has not
always framed one's being?
What path that has not
always upheld one's feet?
What question that does not
contain it's answer?
What existence that does not
encompass root and flower?
--- In NoDoer@y...,
Enlightenment - You are Light.
(In the Light what is 'meant'is seen or In-Light-Meant/In-Light-Way)
Light is Its own knowing - It Lights 'The Way'.
Enlightenment does not mean that challenges-situations go away -
it means that there a 'guide'- It is Light lighting Its own way.
The 'Light' shines most brightly when the obstruction of 'I'
dissolves. In other words the more 'I' let go, the more clearly
This is not a *** Formula for Enlightenment *** - that would be
akin to 'I' See . The 'letting go' is Innocent, like an infant that
has been grasping your finger lets go - the infant does not let go to
get something else, the infant simply 'lets go'.
In this way Enlightenment is the 'absence of absence' where
there is the 'presence of Presence' (or seeing-awareness-consciousness and
when there is a clarity in seeing , the 'way' unfolds effortlessly)
and Intellgent action unfolds Naturally, Effortlessly.
In the Light,
There is no way 'to' Love.
Love is The Way.
Enlightenment is the absence of the absence - when
--- In SufiMystic@y...,
"yosy flug" wrote:
Subject: [SufiMystic] Fun with Humans 5 (sorry for typos)
FUN WITH HUMANS 5
Once I was riding in the family car
when a bumblebee got sucked
in the open window & landed unconscious
in my lap
I picked it up by the wings
to throw it out the window
but it bent around & stung me
on the finger before I could let go
Funny thing It happened before I could react
yet I saw it happen in slow motion
great experience! thank you.
it evoked in my mind the following scene:
on the second day of my first (and only so far) visit to india, i
hitched a ride in an indian lorry. quite an experience in itself!
i found myself squeezed in a drivers cabin along with ten other
co-passangers, when a huge bumblebee flew in through the window and
started flying with a threatening hum all around the cabin. nobody panicked,
but everybody's eyes were following the bumblebee's every move. when the
bee settled for a moment on the front window, one of the men grabbed it
delicately through a piece of rag, and carefully released it outside
the open window... everybody smiled, and for me this little slow-motion
encounter was a great lesson in the indian nature; a/o of respect for
any form of life.
--- In Yearning@y...,
"chatterjee k" wrote:
"Believe me, my son," said Svetketu's father, a sage. "An invisible
and subtle essence is the Spirit of the whole Universe. That is Reality.
That is Atman. Thou Art That."
"Explain more to me, father," said Svetaketu.
"So be it, my son. Place this lump of salt in water and return
Svetaketu did as he was commanded.
In the morning his father asked him to take out the lump of salt.
Svetketu looked into the water, but could not find the salt, as it had
His father then said, "Taste the water. How is it?"
"It is salty" replied Svetketu.
"Look for the salt again" the father addressed.
"I cannot see the salt, father. I only see water that tastes salty"
Svetketu's father then said, "In the same way, O my son, you cannot
see the Sprit. But in truth he is here. An invisible and subtle
essence is the Spirit of the whole universe. That is Reality. That is
Truth. Thou art that (Twam Tat Asi)."
--- In Yearning@y...,
"chatterjee k" wrote:
One day, Adi Shankara, along with his disciples (Padmapada and
others), after a cool refreshing bath in the Ganges at Kashi, was on his way
to the sacred temple of Shri Vishwanath.
Everyone was a creature of the powerful social values of his age.
Shankara saw a dirty sweeper, with his professional instrument under his arms,
coming along. Colored by the traditional custom prevalent at that time,
Shankara cried "Go, Go"-- "Move, Move!"
Even in a man-of-perfection there are careless moments when he gets
thrown out, and comes to function identifying with his body and mind. At such
moments he may unwittingly come to live mechanically the existing
customs and general values of his times - be they good or bad, be they right
or wrong. In the eyes of the Lord even this slip is inexcusable in his
" Oh! the best among twice born, by saying "move away- move away", do
you wish to move matter from matter, or you mean to separate Spirit
from Spirit". The lashing question of the apparent "sweeper" shocked
--- In SufiMystic@y...,
marcos lacerda wrote:
Rumi's poetry is really inspiring, is it not?
THE MAN(or Woman)OF GOD
The man of God is drunken without wine.
The man of God is sated without meat.
The man of God is distraught and bewildered.
The man of God has no food nor sleep.
The man of God is a king beneath Dervish robes.
The man of God is a treasure in a ruin.
The man of God is not of air or earth.
The man of God is neither of fire or water.
The man of God is a boundless Sea.
The man of God rains pearls without a cloud.
The man of God has a hundred moons and skies.
The man of God has a hundred Suns.
The man of God is made wise by the Truth.
The man of God is not learned from a book.
The man of God is beyond infidelity and religion.
To the man of God right and wrong are alike.
The man of God has ridden away from not-being.
The man of God is gloriously attended.
The man of God is concealed, Shamsuddin!
The man of God, do thy seek and find.
Hz.Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Zen stories http://www.rider.edu/users/suler/zenstory/zenstory.html
A few years before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our
small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting
newcomer, and soon invited him to live with our family.
The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world
a few years later. As I grew up, I never questioned his place in our family.
Mom taught me to love the Word of God, and Dad taught me to obey it. But the
stranger was our storyteller. He could weave the most fascinating tales.
adventures, mysteries, and comedies were daily conversations. He could hold
our whole family spellbound for hours each evening. He was like a friend to
the whole family.
He took Dad, my brother, and me to our first major league baseball game. He
was always encouraging us to see the movies and he even made arrangements to
introduce us to several movie stars.
The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn't seem to mind, but sometimes
Mom would quietly get up -- while the rest of us were enthralled with one of
his stories of faraway places-go to her room, read Bible, and pray.
I wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would leave. You see, my
Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions. But this stranger
never felt an obligation to honor them.
Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our house -- not from us, from our
friends, or from adults. Our longtime visitor, however, used occasional four
letter words that burned my ears and made Dad squirm.
To my knowledge, neither of my parents ever confronted the stranger. My Dad
was a teetotaler who didn't permit alcohol in his home -- not even for
cooking. But the stranger felt like we needed exposure and enlightened us to
other ways of life. He offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages often.
He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished. He
talked freely about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes
suggestive, and generally embarrassing.
I know now that the stranger influenced my early concepts of the man/woman
relationship. As I look back, I believe it was the grace of God that the
stranger did not influence us more. Time after time, he opposed the values of
parents, yet my father seldom rebuked him and never asked him to leave.
More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with us. But
if I were to walk into my parent's home today, I would still see him sitting
there waiting for someone to listen to his stories and watch him draw his
We always just called him..................TV
|DR. ROBERT PUFF|