What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think. This rule, equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and meanness. It is the harder, because you will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it. It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.
The objection to conforming to usages that have become dead to you is, that it scatters your force. It loses your time and blurs the impression of your character. If you maintain a dead church, contribute to a dead bible-society, vote with a great party either for the government or against it, spread your table like base housekeepers─ under all these screens I have difficulty to detect the precise man you are. And, of course, so much force is withdrawn from your proper life. But do your work and I shall know you. Do your work and you shall reinforce yourself.
Ralph Waldo Emerson in his 1841 essay, Self-Reliance brings us a step closer to understanding why we create the contrast we experience. We want to conform to reduce the separation we feel within the self. We want to hear someone tell us we are right, when we believe we are. We want to be a part of a group that expresses our beliefs because fear keeps our individuality under house arrest. We can hide within a group and be like everyone else. We have a cause, a purpose, a truth and we no longer feel separated from the self. We want to feel the energy of unified connection. We give our energy to others in order to sense our self worth, but we find layers of worthless self righteousness within the corridors of conformity. We convince the self to believe in conformity, and we create a reality around this duplicity in order to empower the ego self,
Separation of self is the silent volcano that constantly rumbles through our experiences. Emerson explains the folly of separation and the resourcefulness of those who vibrate with it.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Traceless Beginning
The notion that somebody literally made the world─ that is what is known as artificialism. It is the child’s way of thinking: the table is made, so somebody made the table. The world is here, so somebody must have made it. There is another point of view involving emanation and precipitation without personification.
A sound precipitates air, then fire, then water and earth─ and that’s how the world becomes. The whole universe is included in this first sound, this vibration, which then commits all things to fragmentation in the field of time. In this view, there is not someone outside who said, “Let it happen.”
Joseph Campbell shared those thoughts with Bill Moyers in 1985 and the early part of 1986. Campbell’s book, The Power of the Myth was the result of those conversations. Campbell shared a great deal of wisdom about Myths with Moyers; he explained how we live own myths on a daily basis. Life is a myth that we continually refine and change as new information surfaces physically. Our religious beliefs play an important role in what myths we incorporate, and what myths we dismiss as untruths or imagination. Imagination is the foundation for physical life. Without imagination there would be no thoughts, no beliefs and no unique experiences to incorporate into our daily myth of physical living.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Relived Events
But what shall I dedicate to you, master, say,
Who taught the creatures their ear?
My memory of a day in spring,
Its evening in Russia, a horse. . .
Across from the village came the white horse alone,
On one fore fetlock the hobble,
To be alone for the night on the meadows;
How his shock of mane beat
On his neck in time with his high-mettled spirit,
In that rudely obstructed gallop.
How the springs of his steed’s blood leap!
That horse felt the distances, and how
He sang and heard! ─ Your cycle of myths
Was closed in him.
His image ─ I dedicate.
That work is Sonnet 20, from Rilke’s 1922 Sonnet To Orpheus, First Part. Rilke had just finished Duino Elegies that year. He wrote a letter to his love Lou Andreas-Salome reminding her of an 1899 experience they had in Russia when a white horse with a bad hoof came running toward them on a Volga meadow. The horse made such an internal impression on Rilke he used it as a metaphor in the Sonnet. He dedicated that experience to God; it was an offering of joy and appreciation that came back to him every time he thought of the horse.
What Rilke is describing is appreciation for experiences that are lived over and over again in physical life. We choose to relive events, as well as important happenings and then put them in a section of our body consciousness for reference. We use this storage as recall, and make an association with a present experience, and it becomes familiar to us. When there isn’t any experience to reference in body consciousness, our current experience is an unknown. Unknowns create fear or more separation.
Rilke’s point is to dedicate those unknown experiences to God. Rilke uses his Religious beliefs, but Rilke’s God, as he describes it in many of his poems, is within him. So he is dedicating each experience to the one who created them. The God within his consciousness is the benefactor and he senses the emotional connection to that experience. Appreciation of each experience is the association and lesson from Rilke’s work.
Who taught the creatures their ear?
My memory of a day in spring,
Its evening in Russia, a horse. . .
Across from the village came the white horse alone,
On one fore fetlock the hobble,
To be alone for the night on the meadows;
How his shock of mane beat
On his neck in time with his high-mettled spirit,
In that rudely obstructed gallop.
How the springs of his steed’s blood leap!
That horse felt the distances, and how
He sang and heard! ─ Your cycle of myths
Was closed in him.
His image ─ I dedicate.
That work is Sonnet 20, from Rilke’s 1922 Sonnet To Orpheus, First Part. Rilke had just finished Duino Elegies that year. He wrote a letter to his love Lou Andreas-Salome reminding her of an 1899 experience they had in Russia when a white horse with a bad hoof came running toward them on a Volga meadow. The horse made such an internal impression on Rilke he used it as a metaphor in the Sonnet. He dedicated that experience to God; it was an offering of joy and appreciation that came back to him every time he thought of the horse.
What Rilke is describing is appreciation for experiences that are lived over and over again in physical life. We choose to relive events, as well as important happenings and then put them in a section of our body consciousness for reference. We use this storage as recall, and make an association with a present experience, and it becomes familiar to us. When there isn’t any experience to reference in body consciousness, our current experience is an unknown. Unknowns create fear or more separation.
Rilke’s point is to dedicate those unknown experiences to God. Rilke uses his Religious beliefs, but Rilke’s God, as he describes it in many of his poems, is within him. So he is dedicating each experience to the one who created them. The God within his consciousness is the benefactor and he senses the emotional connection to that experience. Appreciation of each experience is the association and lesson from Rilke’s work.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
The Mind of One
Solemn Hour
Who weeps anywhere in the world,
Without cause weeps in the world,
Weeps over me.
Who laughs now anywhere in the night,
Without cause laughs in the night,
Laughs at me.
Who goes now anywhere in the world,
Without cause goes in the world,
Goes to me.
Who dies now anywhere in the world,
Without cause dies in the world,
Looks at me.
Rilke’s poem Solemn Hour speaks of a world, that is a manifested creation of matter made of minerals and water. We conveniently mishandle, misread and misinterpret this world. We muddle through misery looking for a laugh, only to find a mirror reflecting our own sense of senselessness. We die in a secluded forest of myopic dreams and at the same time realize there is no death in the reality of appreciation.
The vibrating energy in a cry, a laugh, a move, or a death is life lived through the mind of one and the consciousness of the many.
Who weeps anywhere in the world,
Without cause weeps in the world,
Weeps over me.
Who laughs now anywhere in the night,
Without cause laughs in the night,
Laughs at me.
Who goes now anywhere in the world,
Without cause goes in the world,
Goes to me.
Who dies now anywhere in the world,
Without cause dies in the world,
Looks at me.
Rilke’s poem Solemn Hour speaks of a world, that is a manifested creation of matter made of minerals and water. We conveniently mishandle, misread and misinterpret this world. We muddle through misery looking for a laugh, only to find a mirror reflecting our own sense of senselessness. We die in a secluded forest of myopic dreams and at the same time realize there is no death in the reality of appreciation.
The vibrating energy in a cry, a laugh, a move, or a death is life lived through the mind of one and the consciousness of the many.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
This Moment
There must be something better,
But I’m satisfied just as I am.
Monkeys spot deer in the forest,
Fish shoot up the mountain stream.
If there’s change, there’s also repose
Which soon must suffer change.
Along the solar orbit of the night,
I feel life’s constant aching:
Smack in the middle of the day,
I found moonlight between a woman’s legs.
Shinkichi Takahashi explains beliefs in his poem, Aching of Life. Religion tells us there’s something better than the life we are living. There is something better in this moment, when we are complete in the moment. There is something special in this moment when we sense when we are born, and why we were born.
But I’m satisfied just as I am.
Monkeys spot deer in the forest,
Fish shoot up the mountain stream.
If there’s change, there’s also repose
Which soon must suffer change.
Along the solar orbit of the night,
I feel life’s constant aching:
Smack in the middle of the day,
I found moonlight between a woman’s legs.
Shinkichi Takahashi explains beliefs in his poem, Aching of Life. Religion tells us there’s something better than the life we are living. There is something better in this moment, when we are complete in the moment. There is something special in this moment when we sense when we are born, and why we were born.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Another Cloud
When, outwardly, a man is attached to form, his inner mind is disturbed. But when outwardly he is not attached to form, his mind is not disturbed. His original nature is pure and quiet as it is in itself; only when it recognizes an objective world, and thinks of it as something, is it disturbed. Those who recognize an objective world and yet find their mind undisturbed are in true enlightenment.
Hui-neng, the 8th century Chinese Chan monastic, explains what enlightenment is in simple terms.
Hui-neng, the 8th century Chinese Chan monastic, explains what enlightenment is in simple terms.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Silence
Silently and serenely one forgets all words;
Clearly and vividly That appears. . .
When one realizes it, it is vast and without limit;
In its essence, it is pure awareness,
Full of wonder in this pure reflection. . .
Infinite wonder permeates this serenity;
In this Illumination all intentional efforts vanish.
Silent is the final word.
Reflection is the response to all manifestation.
Devoid of any effort,
This response is natural and spontaneous. . .
The truth of silent illumination
Is perfect and complete.
Those thoughts come from Garma C. C. Chang’s 1958 book, The Practice of Zen. Reaching this state of perfection in objective awareness is an exciting thought. Blending the subjective with the objective is new work for mour Western brains, but it is familiar.
Accepting our duplicity is a step towards reflection, albeit a short step. We are perfect and complete, but we are always changing. Accepting our inner consciousness refreshes the puddle of our peaceful minds and silence sees itself in its reflection.
Clearly and vividly That appears. . .
When one realizes it, it is vast and without limit;
In its essence, it is pure awareness,
Full of wonder in this pure reflection. . .
Infinite wonder permeates this serenity;
In this Illumination all intentional efforts vanish.
Silent is the final word.
Reflection is the response to all manifestation.
Devoid of any effort,
This response is natural and spontaneous. . .
The truth of silent illumination
Is perfect and complete.
Those thoughts come from Garma C. C. Chang’s 1958 book, The Practice of Zen. Reaching this state of perfection in objective awareness is an exciting thought. Blending the subjective with the objective is new work for mour Western brains, but it is familiar.
Accepting our duplicity is a step towards reflection, albeit a short step. We are perfect and complete, but we are always changing. Accepting our inner consciousness refreshes the puddle of our peaceful minds and silence sees itself in its reflection.
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