VANISHED INTO THE NEVER CEASING
ETERNAL MOMENT
BEYOND WORDS & THOUGHTS
=
AH! SWEET PEACE THAT ALLOWS
NO EARTHLY UNDERSTANDING
ew
3:51 AM-9/22/20
ETERNAL MOMENT
BEYOND WORDS & THOUGHTS
=
AH! SWEET PEACE THAT ALLOWS
NO EARTHLY UNDERSTANDING
ew
3:51 AM-9/22/20
Pure prayer begins at the threshold of silence.
It says nothing, asks for nothing.
It is a kind of listening.
The deeper the listening,
the less we listen for,
until silence itself becomes
the voice of God.
Stephen Mitchell
A Book of Psalms
https://thedawnwithin.com/2020/09/22/search-me-o-god/
It says nothing, asks for nothing.
It is a kind of listening.
The deeper the listening,
the less we listen for,
until silence itself becomes
the voice of God.
Stephen Mitchell
A Book of Psalms
https://thedawnwithin.com/2020/09/22/search-me-o-god/
"…if the heart is ready to receive the highest,
it must rest on absolutely nothing…"
—Meister Eckhart
it must rest on absolutely nothing…"
—Meister Eckhart
The mind of him who stands detached
is of such nobility that whatever he sees is true
and whatever he desires he obtains
and whatever he commands
must be obeyed.
is of such nobility that whatever he sees is true
and whatever he desires he obtains
and whatever he commands
must be obeyed.
And this you must know for sure:
when the free mind is quite detached,
it constrains God to itself
and if it were able to stand formless
and free of all accidentals,
it would assume God’s proper nature …
when the free mind is quite detached,
it constrains God to itself
and if it were able to stand formless
and free of all accidentals,
it would assume God’s proper nature …
The man who stands thus in utter detachment
is rapt into eternity in such a way
that nothing transient can move him …
is rapt into eternity in such a way
that nothing transient can move him …
What is the prayer of a detached heart?
My answer is that detachment and purity cannot pray,
for whoever prays wants God to grant him something
or else wants God to take something from him.
My answer is that detachment and purity cannot pray,
for whoever prays wants God to grant him something
or else wants God to take something from him.
But a detached heart desires nothing at all,
nor has it anything it wants to get rid of.
Therefore it is free of all prayers
or its prayer consists of nothing but being uniform with God.
That is all its prayer …
nor has it anything it wants to get rid of.
Therefore it is free of all prayers
or its prayer consists of nothing but being uniform with God.
That is all its prayer …
Therefore it is totally subject to God,
and therefore it is in the highest degree
of uniformity with God
and is also the most receptive to divine influence …
and therefore it is in the highest degree
of uniformity with God
and is also the most receptive to divine influence …
Now take note, all who are sensible!
No man is happier
than he who has
the greatest detachment.
[Extract taken from The Supreme Awakening:
Experiences of Enlightenment Throughout Time and How You Can Cultivate Them
by Craig Pearson.]
https://www.theculturium.com/meister-eckhart-on-detachment/?
No man is happier
than he who has
the greatest detachment.
[Extract taken from The Supreme Awakening:
Experiences of Enlightenment Throughout Time and How You Can Cultivate Them
by Craig Pearson.]
https://www.theculturium.com/meister-eckhart-on-detachment/?
Peaceful is the one who is not concerned
with having more or less
Unbound by name or fame
he is free from sorrow
from the world
and mostly from himself.
~Rumi
https://makebelieveboutique.com/2020/09/21/33327/
with having more or less
Unbound by name or fame
he is free from sorrow
from the world
and mostly from himself.
~Rumi
https://makebelieveboutique.com/2020/09/21/33327/
All Photos for today's OceanSpeak
from: September 22, 2018
4. PRIMAL REPOSE ARTIST SOUL'S CANVAS Fall Equinox September 22, 2018
CtrlClick above Title (or below) to open above OceanSpeak
https://dorotheamills.weebly.com/oceanspeak-youthanasia-sanctarii/4-primal-repose-artist-souls-canvas-fall-equinox-september-22-2018
AFTERNOON
LIFE IS THE ARTIST SOUL’S CANVAS
…BEINGNESS AS TRANSPARENT CONDUIT
OF THAT WHICH IS BEYOND/BEFORE ANY CREATION
<
EFFORTLESS EASE OF THE IMPERSONAL GLORIOUS
“THAT WHICH CANNOT CHANGE”*
ALWAYS IS
ew
2:22 AM-9/22/18
*Rather than focus on what needs changing
TURN THE ATTENTION TO WHAT CANNOT CHANGE”
Wu Hsin
Soulving (Solving) Yourself: Yuben de Wu Hsin
August 19
…BEINGNESS AS TRANSPARENT CONDUIT
OF THAT WHICH IS BEYOND/BEFORE ANY CREATION
<
EFFORTLESS EASE OF THE IMPERSONAL GLORIOUS
“THAT WHICH CANNOT CHANGE”*
ALWAYS IS
ew
2:22 AM-9/22/18
*Rather than focus on what needs changing
TURN THE ATTENTION TO WHAT CANNOT CHANGE”
Wu Hsin
Soulving (Solving) Yourself: Yuben de Wu Hsin
August 19
A BRAVE AND STARTLING TRUTH
Maya Angelou
We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth
Maya Angelou
We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth
And when we come to it
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palms
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palms
When we come to it
When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate
And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean
When battlefields and coliseum
No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters
Up with the bruised and bloody grass
To lie in identical plots in foreign soil
When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate
And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean
When battlefields and coliseum
No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters
Up with the bruised and bloody grass
To lie in identical plots in foreign soil
When the rapacious storming of the churches
The screaming racket in the temples have ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble
Stoutly in the good, clean breeze
The screaming racket in the temples have ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble
Stoutly in the good, clean breeze
When we come to it
When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
And children dress their dolls in flags of truce
When land mines of death have been removed
And the aged can walk into evenings of peace
When religious ritual is not perfumed
By the incense of burning flesh
And childhood dreams are not kicked awake
By nightmares of abuse
When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
And children dress their dolls in flags of truce
When land mines of death have been removed
And the aged can walk into evenings of peace
When religious ritual is not perfumed
By the incense of burning flesh
And childhood dreams are not kicked awake
By nightmares of abuse
When we come to it
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids
With their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of Babylon
Hanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsets
Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids
With their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of Babylon
Hanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsets
Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor,
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the world
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the world
When we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe
We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing,
irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing,
irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines
When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear
When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
Maya Angelou
“A Brave and Startling Truth” was published in a commemorative booklet
in 1995 and was later included in
Maya Angelou: The Complete Poetry (public library).
https://www.brainpickings.org/2018/05/09/a-brave-and-startling-truth-maya-angelou/
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
Maya Angelou
“A Brave and Startling Truth” was published in a commemorative booklet
in 1995 and was later included in
Maya Angelou: The Complete Poetry (public library).
https://www.brainpickings.org/2018/05/09/a-brave-and-startling-truth-maya-angelou/
Read More Below
Full Maya Angelou quote
Additional Photos
A BRAVE AND STARTLING TRUTH
Maya Angelou
We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth
And when we come to it
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palms
When we come to it
When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate
And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean
When battlefields and coliseum
No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters
Up with the bruised and bloody grass
To lie in identical plots in foreign soil
When the rapacious storming of the churches
The screaming racket in the temples have ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble
Stoutly in the good, clean breeze
When we come to it
When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
And children dress their dolls in flags of truce
When land mines of death have been removed
And the aged can walk into evenings of peace
When religious ritual is not perfumed
By the incense of burning flesh
And childhood dreams are not kicked awake
By nightmares of abuse
When we come to it
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids
With their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of Babylon
Hanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsets
Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor,
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the world
When we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe
We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing,
irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines
When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear
When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
Maya Angelou
“A Brave and Startling Truth” was published in a commemorative booklet
in 1995 and was later included in
Maya Angelou: The Complete Poetry (public library).
https://www.brainpickings.org/2018/05/09/a-brave-and-startling-truth-maya-angelou/
Maya Angelou
We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth
And when we come to it
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palms
When we come to it
When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate
And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean
When battlefields and coliseum
No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters
Up with the bruised and bloody grass
To lie in identical plots in foreign soil
When the rapacious storming of the churches
The screaming racket in the temples have ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble
Stoutly in the good, clean breeze
When we come to it
When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
And children dress their dolls in flags of truce
When land mines of death have been removed
And the aged can walk into evenings of peace
When religious ritual is not perfumed
By the incense of burning flesh
And childhood dreams are not kicked awake
By nightmares of abuse
When we come to it
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids
With their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of Babylon
Hanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsets
Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor,
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the world
When we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe
We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing,
irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines
When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear
When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
Maya Angelou
“A Brave and Startling Truth” was published in a commemorative booklet
in 1995 and was later included in
Maya Angelou: The Complete Poetry (public library).
https://www.brainpickings.org/2018/05/09/a-brave-and-startling-truth-maya-angelou/
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