Moonrise by Ansel Adams
_________________________________________________
MACE MEALER
Illuminata
Save The Questions For Forever
On a still night,
even the braying of an ass,
startles the moon,
and for our purposes
serves as well
as a birds song.
In as much
as one thinks
they are the same
they are distinct.
In as much
as one thinks
they are distinct
they are the same.
If the name is cut
from the knife
does it remain sharp?
_______________________________________________
GABRIELE EBERT
SriRamana
The only true light there is is pure
Awareness. Other kinds of knowledge
Clinging to it and claiming to be
Real are ego-born conceptual
Clouds. To trust them is sheer folly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Muruganar: The Garland of Guru's Sayings,
V. 421
________________________________________________
GILL EARDLEY
allspirit
From: 'Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind' by Shunryu Suzuki
"For Zen students the most important thing is not to be dualistic.
Our 'original mind' includes everything within itself. It is always
rich and sufficient within itself. You should not lose your self-
sufficient state of mind. This does not mean a closed mind, but
actually an empty mind and a ready mind. If your mind is empty,
it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the
beginner's mind there are many possibilities; in the expert's mind
there are few.
"If you discriminate too much, you limit yourself. If you are too
demanding or too greedy, your mind is not rich and self-sufficient.
If we lose our original self-sufficient mind, we will lose all precepts.
When your mind becomes demanding, when you long for something,
you will end up violating your own precepts: not to tell lies, not to
steal, not to kill, not to be immoral, and so forth. If you keep your
original mind, the precepts will keep themselves.
"In the beginner's mind there is no thought, 'I have attained something.'
All self-centered thoughts limit our vast mind. When we have no thought
of achievement, no thought of self, we are true beginners. Then we can
really learn something. The beginner's mind is compassionate, it is bound-
less."
________________________________________________
Wonder Lake by Ansel Adams
________________________________________________
David Bozzi
Scribbling Chaos
I scribble chaos
on the canvas of life
with finger paint dipped
into a pool of memories...
I still wonder what life might be like
without all the gravity
of the past...
I heard the voice
of my pretend mystic
tell me that I am the Holy One,
yet again...
But going by
the actions my idol executes,
I can't believe that farce,
he might be right,
but still he's a fraud...
I scribble wisdom
on the canvas of sound.
Those who hear
think that they are found.
I've got news for them
they might not hear...
My scribbled wisdom
is a reflection of their fear...
So in the end
who is one to believe?
I could tell you,
but that would make me
a liar...
If you trust in the above
you'd be just as lost
as those damned to below...
In another end
(there's as many as infinity)
someone may begin to understand.
There's still a ton of fools
who say you are It,
but all of them have failed to remember
that if I need to know to begin with
that's a recipe for disaster.
I may as well tell you
that you are exactly
who you think you are...
________________________________________________
Vicki Woodyard
HarshaSatsangh
Enlightenment has become almost a dirty word with
me. I have strived for it, studied for it, let go of it,
clung to it, danced with it and tranced with it. I
have gone the extra mile for it, flashed the smile
for it, hoping that someday, somehow it would be
given to me as an act of grace.
I should know better. I studied with a master
teacher, Vernon Howard. There was no question
about his enlightenment. Every word he said was
true and came from the depths of the inner
heights. His energy was phenomenal, pure and
transcendant. I wanted a piece of it.
He died of cancer, his secretary befriended me and
she died of cancer. Now my husband has incurable
cancer. Somewhere along the line I have become
less excited about my own particular nirvana.
During the worst days, my husband was so ill he did
not know where he was. I knew all too well where I
was--in hell. One day when he was in the hospital I
came home and sat down at the computer. All of a
sudden my bowels released and I messed in the
computer chair. I cleaned myself up. The dog had
thrown up on my side of the bed near my pillow. I
stepped in dog doody and walked it all over the
hospital corridors. And strangely enough I knew
that I was getting a message of love...of the
Mother Theresa variety. I was the unclean person.
I also knew during this strange time of trial that
everytime I asked for something I would be given
an inner message that things would go better if I let
things come to me unasked. I was in a no man's
land. Who cared about enlightenment when there
were unmentionable sufferings occurring in my life?
Who cared?
My husband's ribs had been broken by the
undiagnosed cancer and he looked like a skeleton.
Since our daughter had died of the disease as a
child, I knew what death looked like. I didn't want it
to happen to him. When he got home from the
hospital I slept with a skeleton for months.
Now he is in remission but I have much more
self-esteem than I did when I was seeking
enightenment. Enlightenment is cellular, unearned
and undiscerned. It is ephemeral, visceral and
gut-wrenching.
People tell me that I have an aura of peace about
me. I know what they mean, for when I look inside
I experience it. The sad thing is that my ego with
the name and form must undergo panic attacks and
frequent true sorrow because she can never be
enlightened.
I am tired of reading all the endless names of
people who teach enlightenment. They have books
and tapes and seminars and retreats and
introductory trial offers. I know the same things
that they do...more's the pity.
If you would like to consult with me about
gut-wrenching loneliness contained within a peaceful
energy field, be my guest. I just don't do
seminars.
Vicki Woodyard, http://www.bobwoodyard.com
