Sunday, February 18, 2018

part of the deal





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Saturday, February 17, 2018

no hard feelings





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Friday, February 16, 2018

true belongings





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I am of the nature to grow old.
There is no way to escape growing old.
I am of the nature to have ill-health.
There is no way to escape having ill-health.

I am of the nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love
is of the nature to change.

There is no way to escape being separated from them.
My actions are my only true belongings.

I cannot escape the consequences of my actions.
My actions are the ground on which I stand.


–Buddha

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Thursday, February 15, 2018

Rest





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Close your eyes
Let them rest
I ain't in no hurry, no hurry at all

Rest your head upon my shoulder
I swear I will carry, carry you on
I won't let you go on, go on hungry
I won't let you cry, without a hand to dry

Rest your hands
Leave them tender
They weren't made for working, working at all
I won't let you go on, go on hungry
I won't let you cry, without a hand to dry

Rest your soul, live in peace
I won't let you worry, worry at all
I won't let you worry, worry at all
I won't let you worry, worry at all

–Michael Kiwanuka


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Wednesday, February 14, 2018

question





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what time is it?it is by every star
a different time,and each most falsely true;
or so subhuman superminds declare

-nor all their times encompass me and you:


when are we never,but forever now
(hosts of eternity;not guests of seem)
believe me,dear,clocks have enough to do

without confusing timelessness and time. 


Time cannot children,poets,lovers tell-
measure imagine,mystery,a kiss
-not though mankind would rather know than feel;

mistrusting utterly that timelessness

whose absence would make your whole life and my
(and infinite our)merely to undie


–E. E. Cummings
poem


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Tuesday, February 13, 2018

No Death, No Fear, excerpt





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The day my mother died I wrote in my journal, “A serious misfortune of my life has arrived.” I suffered for more than one year after the passing away of my mother. But one night, in the highlands of Vietnam, I was sleeping in the hut in my hermitage. I dreamed of my mother. I saw myself sitting with her, and we were having a wonderful talk. She looked young and beautiful, her hair flowing down. It was so pleasant to sit there and talk to her as if she had never died. When I woke up it was about two in the morning, and I felt very strongly that I had never lost my mother. The impression that my mother was still with me was very clear. I understood then that the idea of having lost my mother was just an idea. It was obvious in that moment that my mother is always alive in me.

I opened the door and went outside. The entire hillside was bathed in moonlight. It was a hill covered with tea plants, and my hut was set behind the temple halfway up. Walking slowly in the moonlight through the rows of tea plants, I noticed my mother was still with me. She was the moonlight caressing me as she had done so often, very tender, very sweet… wonderful! Each time my feet touched the earth I knew my mother was there with me. I knew this body was not mine but a living continuation of my mother and my father and my grandparents and great-grandparents. Of all my ancestors. Those feet that I saw as “my” feet were actually “our” feet. Together my mother and I were leaving footprints in the damp soil.

From that moment on, the idea that I had lost my mother no longer existed. All I had to do was look at the palm of my hand, feel the breeze on my face or the earth under my feet to remember that my mother is always with me, available at any time.


–Thich Nhat Hanh







Sunday, February 11, 2018

don't leave




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