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#4193 -
Thursday, March 17, 2011 - Editor: Gloria Lee
The Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights
"I sit firmly on my dried-up mat,
thoughts dead as ashes,
When the boy rushes in to announce
that spring has returned-
The empty cold smashed to bits,
the heavens dance with blossoms
That stir up what I've tried
all my futile life to still!"
~Gido Susshin
posted to Daily Dharma by Amrita Nadi
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A letter from Sendai
Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very
blessed to
have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack
is even
more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We
share
supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined
up in one
room, eat by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly,
and beautiful.
During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes.
People sit
in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or
line up to get
drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water
running in their
home, they put out a sign so people can come to fill up their
jugs and
buckets.
It's utterly amazingly that where I am there has been no looting,
no pushing
in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when
an
earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it
used to be in the
old days when everyone helped one another."
Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15
minutes. Sirens
are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.
We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it
is for half
a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come
on.. But all
of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not.
No one has
washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much
more
important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away
of
non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of
intuition, of caring, of
what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire
group.
There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in
some
places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the
sun. People
lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking
their dogs.
All happening at the same time.
Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at
night. No cars.
No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered
with
stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is
filled. The
mountains of Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see
them
silhouetted against the sky magnificently.
And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my
shack to
check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the
electricity is on, and
I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from
whom,
but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door
checking to see
if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if
they need
help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or
panic, no.
They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major
quakes, for
another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors,
rolls, shaking,
rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is
a bit
elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area
is better
off than others. Last night my friend's husband came in from the
country,
bringing food and water. Blessed again.
Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there
is indeed
an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over
the world
right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events
happening
now in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother
asked me
if I felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't.
Rather, I feel as
part of something happening that much larger than myself. This
wave of
birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.
Thank you again for your care and Love of me,
With Love in return, to you all, Anne
posted by Anne Thomas on 3/14/2011 11:30 am
http://www.odemagazine.com/blogs/readers_blog/24755/a_letter_from_sendai
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A spirit of endurance in Japan
I am writing this as I make the decision whether to leave Sendai
or not. I
have just heard that a bus will be available to evacuate American
citizens
from Sendai tomorrow morning. I have not yet made up my mind what
I will
do. I have been in this city for twenty-two years. My life is
here..
Earlier this evening I wrote the following essay about my
experiences
during the day:
Life here has become one of living day to day. I am staying with
the mother
of my best friend, Izumi. Her home is two minutes from my
unlivable shack.
Izumi has moved in there, too, as her own home is in shambles
after the
major quake. She goes there daily to straighten things out.
Each morning and evening we watch the news. Our daily lives are
nose to
nose with the immediate world around us, so seeing a larger
picture is
important. But even so, we are much more focused on day-to-day
living.
As I said, in the morning Izumi usually heads to her home, while
I set out to
find food. Lack of rice is a big problem. But vegetables and
protein are
also high on the list. I know of a small four-generation grocery
store tucked
way back in a neighborhood with narrow, twisting alleyways. The
chain
stores on main streets are closed or only open a few hours each
day due to
lack of supplies. But smaller ones off the beaten track are more
promising.
To my utter amazement and delight, this place was to open at 3:00
p.m. So,
I joined the line of people waiting for that hope-filled hour.
The wind was
fiercely cold and the wait almost two hours before I was able to
enter the
shop.
Very wisely, the owners were allowing only five people in at one
time. They
had food because of farmer relatives who had brought in a large
truck of
vegetables and fruit earlier in the day. Most places permit
people to buy
only five or ten items, but in this beautiful place, the owners,
deep with
understanding, did not set a limit.
It was such a delight to watch people come out of the shop with
bags full of
such items as potatoes, cabbage, daikon, carrots, yams, and other
such
sturdy vegetables. The look of joy on their faces was palpable. I
got my
share, too, and as I pedaled home on my bicycle, I found another
wee shop
selling two-kilo bags of rice. So it was indeed a fortunate day.
When I got
back to Izumi’s mom’s home, we all laughed and clapped
for joy.
Since I will have to move from this shack of mine, I wandered
over to a real
estate office nearby to let them know my desires. Miraculously it
was open.
The woman was there to clean up and also because there was
running water.
There was none in her home and with her daughter’s newborn
child, washing
diapers was a problem. So she scrubbed nappies while we discussed
housing
for me.
Shifting focus off my immediate experiences, please let me
continue sharing
beautiful, life-affirming things that are happening all around. I
am
ceaselessly in awe of the emergency infrastructure here. There
are not
enough supplies, which everyone knows, but the excellently
organized
system is running like clockwork to the best of its stretched
abilities..
To give a few examples, evacuation shelters are all over every
city. Food,
water, and heat are there, although very limited. Mats and
blankets, again
in short supply, are also there. People are collecting wood from
damaged
buildings and making fires for heating and cooking. Volunteers
welcome
evacuees and to help in whatever way they can. Firefighters and
policemen
carry the old and injured into shelters on their backs. And
shelters have
designated leaders to head meetings and make decisions.
People in the shelters are supporting one another. They massage
each others’
legs and shoulders, sit in close circles for human contact, read
stories to
kids, or simply hold hands. They are grateful for whatever
goodness comes
their way. “I feel so fortunate. We are able to eat at least
once a day,” one
woman said.
And people are being very creative. Some are out collecting snow
in plastic
bags. The water from it can be used to flush toilets or wash
dishes.
Today one young able man, who was helping his parents clean up
the remains
of their home, was called into the reserves. He had no choice,
but was not
happy about this turn of events. But his mother said, “We
need him here, of
course, but his service to others, to many, is more important
than for only
us.”
During the day people go out to search for missing family
members. TV
crews are there, of course, and often stop people for interviews.
Emotional
wounds are deep and vast. People’s intense efforts to
contain grief is
painful to witness. No overt wailing. But tears and silence
everywhere.
“Shigata ga nai” is a Japanese expression that roughly
translated means, “It
cannot be helped.” It also implies a sense of enduring what
is happening and
of making the best of whatever situation you are in. That concept
is an
integral part of everyday life here, not only now, but always.
This
emergency situation is surely one of “shigata ga nai”.
And everywhere
people are saying, “We have to soldier on. There is no other
way.”
Gambarimashou with Love, Anne
posted by Anne Thomas on 3/17/2011 2:45 pm
Photo via AP Photo/Kyodo News
http://www.odemagazine.com/blogs/readers_blog/24805/a_spirit_of_endurance_in_japan
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"Life is, by nature, constant flow and interaction of
numberless elements.
Nothing ever stays the same, even from one moment to the next.
Everything
is on its way to becoming something else, and therefore, nothing
can be held
onto. If you see this clearly, if you consider and examine this
deeply and
fully, then letting go is the only thing left to do. How can you
hold on?
What is there to hold onto?
So the art of spiritual surrender is really the art of not
knowing. Then it
doesn't make any difference at all whether you are walking down
the street
or eating lunch or responding to your email or making love or
sitting alone
on your couch. This is the first and last time you will ever be
doing this. If
you truly understand that, it changes everything."
~Scott Morrison
posted to Daily Dharma by Dainen Kelley