PRESIDES
ew
5:19 AM-5/14/19
*Fine Art of Doing Nothing
(FADN phrase from Friend "Yogi")
(See yesterday’s OceanSpeak re: More
re: this “Condition”)
https://dorotheamills.weebly.com/oceanspeak-youthanasia-sanctarii/unutterable-movement-the-invisible-listener-may-13-2019
https://mailchi.mp/brainpickings/virginia-woolf-robert-browning-cecilia-payne?e=bc3afd75c6
Quotes below in this color font are from this
EXCELLENT SHARING ABOVE Link
so universal as to border on the banal,
until we reach the rock bottom of utter existential aloneness:....
of human beings so tied together by common needs and fears
that a twitch at one wrist jerks another,....
where however far you travel in your own mind someone has been there before you --
is all an illusion.
let alone the souls of others.
a snowfield where
even the print of birds’ feet is unknown
always to be accompanied,
always to be understood
would be intolerable.
Quotes above in this color font are from this
EXCELLENT SHARING-ABOVE link
It is the most supremely interesting moment in life, the only one in fact when living seems life, and I count in the greatest good fortune to have these few months so full of interest and instruction in the knowledge of my approaching death. It is as simple in one’s own person as any fact of nature, the fall of a leaf or the blooming of a rose, and I have a delicious consciousness, ever present, of wide spaces close at hand, and whisperings of release in the air.
Excerpt from:
How to Live to the Full While Dying:
The Extraordinary Diary of Alice James,
William and Henry James’s Brilliant Sister
https://www.brainpickings.org/2017/08/07/diary-of-alice-james-death/
AFTERNOON
Life,
is sustained by life.
This,
is living.
We rely upon one another.
There is no living,
outside of the continual process,
of our mutual interdependence;
which co-mingles with our pending,
temporal dissolution.
Life is change.
Life is impermanence.
From nothing comes something,
and to nothing, all things shall return.
Life requires life,
for without this principle,
no-thing could possibly be.
Life is seen
only through its own reflection.
Our only experience,
is that of ourselves.
one consciousness, one awareness;
one spirit, one energy;
one source.
One life, being lived through infinite lives,
one life, being lived through infinite manifestations,
one life, as seen through infinite points of view.
appearing as an ever-flowing stream
of unique reflections.
and no matter the myriad manifestations that seem to be,
there is only one underlying reality,
and it remains undivided,
empty of independent name or form,
pervading all that Is—and you are That.
One consciousness experiencing itself,
through all that it dreams into being.
and you are That;
the essence in which
this present moment
is now happening.
Be not mistaken;
you are not subject to whatever happens,
for that is merely a conception of the mind,
a mental byproduct of the non-existent past.
is the infinite field of awareness,
in which all happenings appear,
but you remain unaffected and free
from whatever form it assumes.
You are the theatre of consciousness,
in which all happenings appear;
remaining free of them all.
that knows all that is known.
The eternal witness.
And this is the suchness
of our shared Universal Self;
an empty and limitless presence,
in which all of our human
conceptions, perceptions, and sensations
are imagined into being.
no-thing can divide us,
regardless of the thoughts
that the mind tends to think
and project onto whatever we perceive.
We, the aware sentient,
are mutually interdependent,
co-arising together,
as a single and harmonious whole.
One consciousness.
My breath is yours.
Brian Thompson
http://www.zenthinking.net/
http://nomindsland.blogspot.com/2019/05/brian-thompson-my-breath-is-yours.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+NoMindsLand+%28No+Mind%27s+Land%29
This laboring of ours with all that remains undone,
as if still bound to it,
is like the lumbering gait of the swan.
And then our dying — releasing ourselves
from the very ground on which we stood --
is like the way he hesitantly lowers himself
into the water. It gently receives him,
and, gladly yielding, flows back beneath him,
as wave follows wave,
while he, now wholly serene and sure,
with regal composure,
allows himself to glide.
Rilke
https://www.brainpickings.org/2014/12/10/joanna-macy-a-year-with-rilke-death-mortality/