Tuesday, October 28, 2014

looking, about


so much of the world

cannot remember what is

at root silence -- see

Sunday, October 26, 2014

no, wonder


There are no references to the word “contemplation” in the New Testament. There is one reference to the word “contemplate.”
2 Corinthians 3:18  
And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. 
New International Version (NIV)
No wonder there are so few contemplatives.

And, to think about it, “no wonder” is the absence of the desire for contemplation.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

life preceding death


The following from "brain pickings," 17sept2014: 

How We Die: Sherwin Nuland on the Lifelong Art of Making Our Final Moments Meaningful

by 
“The greatest dignity to be found in death is the dignity of the life that preceded it.”
But our greatest act of hope in dying, Nuland argues, is the dissolution of our illusion of separateness. He writes:
The real event taking place at the end of our life is our death, not the attempts to prevent it. We have somehow been so taken up with the wonders of modern science that our society puts the emphasis in the wrong place. It is the dying that is the important thing — the central player in the drama is the dying man: the dashing leader of that bustling squad of his would-be rescuers is only a spectator, and a groundling at that.
Reflecting on the commonly documented medical fact that the dying can often survive for weeks beyond their prognosis, sustained merely by the hope to live until a specific moment of significance — a daughter’s wedding, a grandchild’s graduation — Nuland calls to mind Rilke’s famous lines of verse (“Oh Lord, give each of us his own death / The dying, that issues forth out of the life / In which he had love, meaning and despair”) and considers the true source of hope:
For dying patients, the hope of cure will always be shown to be ultimately false, and even the hope of relief too often turns to ashes. When my time comes, I will seek hope in the knowledge that insofar as possible I will not be allowed to suffer or be subjected to needless attempts to maintain life; I will seek it in the certainty that I will not be abandoned to die alone; I am seeking it now, in the way I try to live my life, so that those who value what I am will have profited by my time on earth and be left with comforting recollections of what we have meant to one another… Whatever form it may take, each of us must find hope in his or her own way.
 http://www.brainpickings.org/2014/09/17/sherwin-nuland-how-we-die/

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

we used to say “Look” beginning each statement; now we say “So.”


We are fond of illusion. It is difficult to say goodbye to a friend. We would become disillusioned.

What would we look at?

This is what we long to know.

Perhaps we might look at this.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

expedient freedom


The koan of ‘expediency’ sat at table during Sunday Evening Practice. Jory said, ‘Acting within the constraints of the situation.’

Perhaps freedom is the recognition of necessity.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

ad majorem Dei gloriam


I let down green shade behind blue chair. Grey-brown cat stirs looking out window, steps through purple tent near white canvas bag under iron-legged table.

This is life on thursday morning.

White dog and brown dog in dooryard.

Egg and toast remains drift on plates in metal basin sink.

I read obituaries the ages of whom are my age or younger.

Every ailment is deadly.

On walk this morning at Still,Marbles we do our periodic enthuse about it being a final stay place for the dying, an interim practice place for the meditative, a beginning consciousness place for the contemplative.

As much of the world sniggers with political deviousness or inflamatory aggression -- we prefer to encircle a moribund property with imaginative thought.

Two cats on blue futon close eyes and take their rest. 

Friday, July 11, 2014

quies, presque silencio


Illness defines nothing. I suspect illness undefines. Falls everything apart.

The curious sensation of reading obituaries -- there I go, there I go!

What do we want from one another?

Enter quietly; visit briefly; leave with ease of back door closing quietly.