life’s passages … 52

life is a never-ending river…sudden moments of a stilled pond, languishing through time; riding whitewater rapids; falling waterfalls, bubbling creeks; uniting raindrops on a windowpane. Passing through life, seeking to rejoin with a vast unknown, and then again, evaporating into clouds that release into another stream of searching…searching…searching.

Are you in the waves of vast oceans?

Are you in the scent of flowers?

Are you in the spring’s early morning?

Are you in the touch of the afternoon’s sun rays?

Are you in the ever-changing clouds that tells stories of old?

Are you in the sound of melting snow?

Are you in the rustling movement of tumble weeds?

Are you in the colors of a brand new box of 72 Crayons? Or an old one?

Are you in the season of Autumn? Spring? Summer? Winter?

Are you in the wings of butterflies?

Are you in the vibrations of honey bees?

Are you in these questions?

Are you in the morning chanting sangha?

Are you in the scent of sun-warmed pine needles?

Are you in the uniting of water drops?

Are you in my searching, searching, searching?

life’s passages … 51

winterblues

Memories are priceless…some are like hot chocolate and cozy socks on a chilly night.  Others, not so much … prickly needles.

This week as I watched videos of the winter storm in the Sierra Nevada memories of a particular winter in Iowa when the wind chill was reported to be 60 below zero visited for a moment or two. They were then replaced with memories of family photos of the winter  in Portola, California when the snow fall was recorded at 9 feet.

donna
Donna, Portola California

Even though January is my birth month, I often experience the winter blues in January as it is usually the longest, coldest, darkest month of the year.  Not so this year in Northeastern Colorado. “Snow,” I ask, “where are those new snow-making memories?”

lens-artists: window shopping

Hum … window shopping. It has been a long time. I do miss those days walking about Old Town, watching people stroll about, listening to a shopper play a public piano (Piano About Town art project), governing the impulse to buy, sitting out doors with a cappuccino, and most of all, walking about with camera in hand.

Why not join The World as I see it’s lens-artists challenge: window shopping

life’s passages … 45

sunday morning with Thich Nhat Hanh

‘… the flower is made of non-flower elements. We can describe the flower as being full of everything. There is nothing that is not present in the flower. We see sunshine, we see the rain, we see clouds, we see the earth, and we also see time and space in the flower.


A flower, like everything else, is made entirely of non-flower elements. The whole cosmos has come together in order to help the flower manifest herself, The flower is full of everything except one thing: a separate self, a separate identity.


The flower cannot be by herself alone. The flower has to inter-be with the sunshine, the cloud and everything in the cosmos. If we understand being in terms of inter-being, then we are much closer to the truth. Inter-being is not being and it is not non-being. Inter-being means being empty of a separate identity, empty of a separate self.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh, No Death, No Fear: Comforting Wisdom for Life

Zepher Richard Lee

life’s passages … 43

if I go to heaven I will forget you,

and

if I go to hell you will forget me.*

In China a person who will not forget the past is described as ‘one who did not drink Old Lady Meng’s soup.’ Borrowed from Buddhist folklore, Old Lady Meng dispenses the Broth of Oblivion to souls leaving the last realm of the underworld on their way to reincarnation. After drinking her soup, the soul is directed to the Bridge of pain that spans a river of crimson water. There, two demons lie in wait: Life-Is-Not-Long and Death-is-Near. They hurl the soul into waters that will lead to new births.

Old Lady Meng is more than a quaint antidote for the Greeks’ Mnemosyne. She embodies a psychological understanding about the forces that promote, indeed demand, forgetting for the sake of ongoing life.  It is not enough to note that water is linked with amnesia in Chinese folklore as much the same way that the river Lethe is associated with forgetting in Greek mythology. The challenge here is to make sense of the distinctively Chinese attachment to remembrance in spite of the benefits of Old Lady Meng’s soul.

In Jewish tradition, too, the benefits of amnesia were acknowledged along with the sacred commitment to recollection. There is a midrash, or Torah-based story, that teaches us a lesson similar to that of Lady Meng: ‘God granted Adam and Eve an all-important blessing as they were about to leave the Garden of Eden: I give you, He said, ‘the gift of forgetfulness.” What is so precious about amnesia? Why would God, who demands fidelity to memory, offer the relief from recollection? Perhaps it is because without some ability to forgive and forget we might become bound by grudges and hatred. To remember everything may be immobilizing. To flee from memory, however, leads to an ever more debilitating frenzy.(40-41)**

source:

*Arang and the Magistrate

Munhwa broadcasting corporation 

**Bridge Across Broken Time

Vera Schwarcz