Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
ATLAN - DUN DO SHUIL (Close Your Eyes).......Hauntingly beautiful, mood music.....
TRANSLATION
Close your eyes, machree
My worldly joy, my treasure
Close your eyes, machree
And you will get a present tomorrow
Your dad is coming from the hills
With game and grouse in plenty
So close your eyes, my love, my joy
And you will get a present tomorrow
Close your eyes, machree
My worldly joy, my treasure
Close your eyes, machree
And you will get a present tomorrow
The summer sun shines bright and warm
And potato stalks grow greener
A bracing breeze blows from the south
And we will have fish tomorrow
Close your eyes, machree
My worldly joy, my treasure
Close your eyes, machree
And you will get a present tomorrow
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Thoughts on a foggy morning
When I was young, I liked to say, "I was born old, and I just keep getting younger." As I have gotten older, that has changed to "Getting older beats the alternative." Cliche, yes, but cliches are cliches for a reason: because they are true. Right?
Anyway: getting older. One thing is for sure: I have always, always thought of myself as a late bloomer. In that sense, I have yet to come into my own. It may not look like it, but to me it seems like I just stumble blindly through life. Maybe a lot of people feel that way. What does it feel like to have a strong sense of purpose? Am I meant to have one, or is this life more about something else entirely? Is a life without a strong, defined purpose just a wasted life? Have I wasted a lot of my life in selfish pursuits, or worse, lethargy and procrastination? What's the sense in getting older if you don't also get wiser?
When I was young, I was told that I was wise beyond my years. I guess I can't really claim that one anymore! Yet, as time passes, I see more and more how little I do know. Or maybe I just accept that there is a lot that I will never know. The vast majority of that is not stuff I feel a burning desire to know. I guess what I desire to know most of all is a sense of accomplishment. I judge myself most cruelly over this one. When I look at my life, my accomplishments are....nebulous. Is practicing virtue really an accomplishment? Whom does it help? Is helping only a few people really enough? If no one knows about it, is it still good? Here is another of my favorite sayings: "Goodness is its own reward." Yeah, my kids just love that one. I say it because I truly mean it. But going deeper, is the reward what any of us is really always after? I suppose so, if you believe the pleasure principle. So you don't have to look it up, the pleasure principle is the psychoanalytical concept that people seek pleasure and avoid pain, in seeking to satisfy their biological and psychological needs. The mark of maturity is the ability to delay gratification. If that is true, then I am sooooooo mature! :-)
Anyway: getting older. One thing is for sure: I have always, always thought of myself as a late bloomer. In that sense, I have yet to come into my own. It may not look like it, but to me it seems like I just stumble blindly through life. Maybe a lot of people feel that way. What does it feel like to have a strong sense of purpose? Am I meant to have one, or is this life more about something else entirely? Is a life without a strong, defined purpose just a wasted life? Have I wasted a lot of my life in selfish pursuits, or worse, lethargy and procrastination? What's the sense in getting older if you don't also get wiser?
When I was young, I was told that I was wise beyond my years. I guess I can't really claim that one anymore! Yet, as time passes, I see more and more how little I do know. Or maybe I just accept that there is a lot that I will never know. The vast majority of that is not stuff I feel a burning desire to know. I guess what I desire to know most of all is a sense of accomplishment. I judge myself most cruelly over this one. When I look at my life, my accomplishments are....nebulous. Is practicing virtue really an accomplishment? Whom does it help? Is helping only a few people really enough? If no one knows about it, is it still good? Here is another of my favorite sayings: "Goodness is its own reward." Yeah, my kids just love that one. I say it because I truly mean it. But going deeper, is the reward what any of us is really always after? I suppose so, if you believe the pleasure principle. So you don't have to look it up, the pleasure principle is the psychoanalytical concept that people seek pleasure and avoid pain, in seeking to satisfy their biological and psychological needs. The mark of maturity is the ability to delay gratification. If that is true, then I am sooooooo mature! :-)
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Healing Thoughts
What inspires me to write can sometimes be something I have read, or sometimes it comes from what I am going through in my life. At times, the topic and, in fact, nearly everything I have to say about it, comes tumbling out effortlessly, and the post is finished before I know it. More often, the ideas roil around in my mind for days, even weeks, before they spring forth into written words.
I am not really sure if one way is better than the other. I do know that when I sit and the words flow easily, it doesn't feel like an effort at all. Rather, it feels like a relief to get the thoughts out! Honestly, I think the best posts are like that. I don't really overthink, I just write whatever comes to mind. Even though the thoughts may have been forming for a while, they appear to me to be spontaneous, not planned.
Bearing that in mind, this morning I read: It is the way of the miracle worker to always see all human behavior as one of two things: love, or a call for love.
Now, I have heard this before. It is actually a guiding principle of my life. (On a side note, I find it curious that I place so much importance on aspiring to live up to my ideals. Funny that I have somehow made it my life's purpose. More to think on that idea. ) So: anything that comes up is either love, or a call for love. How many see the latter more than the former, raise your hands? This is only an indication of how much healing is needed in the world. For those who live to heal, this is not necessarily an issue. The fact of the need for healing is a given. Where healers must be vigilant is in identifying too closely with the call for love. What that means to me is: don't get sucked up into the drama. The price we pay for this is a sense of standing apart, or of being alone. This, when occurring often and to great measure, can drain one's energy. It's important to refuel, of course. But it is also good to be assured that this is all part of the healing process. Healers are also purifiers of energy. It's not meant to be a martyrdom thing. It's simply part of the healing process. It's almost like the old saying: it's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it.
When the whole world is healed, then healers will sit back and say: see? It wasn't so hard. Yes, we have a long row to hoe until then. It's important to stand up now and then, stretch and turn towards the sun. It's good to dance a while, under the serious moonlight. It's nice to run away every so often, preferably somewhere that Nature is free and wild. All of these actions restore the soul to its equilibrium. Balance brings clarity. Clarity brings serenity. Serenity brings acceptance. Acceptance brings healing. Healing allows love to answer the call for love.
P.S. We are all healers (or can be).
I am not really sure if one way is better than the other. I do know that when I sit and the words flow easily, it doesn't feel like an effort at all. Rather, it feels like a relief to get the thoughts out! Honestly, I think the best posts are like that. I don't really overthink, I just write whatever comes to mind. Even though the thoughts may have been forming for a while, they appear to me to be spontaneous, not planned.
Bearing that in mind, this morning I read: It is the way of the miracle worker to always see all human behavior as one of two things: love, or a call for love.
Now, I have heard this before. It is actually a guiding principle of my life. (On a side note, I find it curious that I place so much importance on aspiring to live up to my ideals. Funny that I have somehow made it my life's purpose. More to think on that idea. ) So: anything that comes up is either love, or a call for love. How many see the latter more than the former, raise your hands? This is only an indication of how much healing is needed in the world. For those who live to heal, this is not necessarily an issue. The fact of the need for healing is a given. Where healers must be vigilant is in identifying too closely with the call for love. What that means to me is: don't get sucked up into the drama. The price we pay for this is a sense of standing apart, or of being alone. This, when occurring often and to great measure, can drain one's energy. It's important to refuel, of course. But it is also good to be assured that this is all part of the healing process. Healers are also purifiers of energy. It's not meant to be a martyrdom thing. It's simply part of the healing process. It's almost like the old saying: it's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it.
When the whole world is healed, then healers will sit back and say: see? It wasn't so hard. Yes, we have a long row to hoe until then. It's important to stand up now and then, stretch and turn towards the sun. It's good to dance a while, under the serious moonlight. It's nice to run away every so often, preferably somewhere that Nature is free and wild. All of these actions restore the soul to its equilibrium. Balance brings clarity. Clarity brings serenity. Serenity brings acceptance. Acceptance brings healing. Healing allows love to answer the call for love.
P.S. We are all healers (or can be).
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The Road Not Taken
When I go within to restore my self to sanity and peace, I have to be careful not to take the wrong turn, else I could end up in the seemingly bottomless pit of despair and dread. Fortunately, the path before me is lit. Now I only have to pay attention, and mind the gap!
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The Reed Flute's Song
The Reed Flute's Song
by Jalalu'ddin Rumi, excerpted from Coleman Barks' translation in The Essential Rumi
Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separated.
"Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.
Anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what I say.
Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.
At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,
a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden
within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,
spirit up from body: no concealing
that mixing. But it's not given us
to see the soul. The reed flute
is fire, not wind. Be that empty."
Hear the love fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment
melts into wine. The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric torn
and drawn away. The reed is hurt
and salve combining. Intimacy
and longing for intimacy, one
song. A disastrous surrender
and a fine love, together. The one
who secretly hears this is senseless.
A tongue has one customer, the ear.
A sugarcane flute has such effect
because it was able to make sugar
in the reedbed. The sound it makes
is for everyone. Days full of wanting,
let them go by without worrying
that they do. Stay where you are
inside such a pure, hollow note.
Every thirst gets satisfied except
that of these fish, the mystics,
who swim a vast ocean of grace
still somehow longing for it!
No one lives in that without
being nourished every day.
But if someone doesn't want to hear
the song of the reed flute,
it's best to cut conversation
short, say good-bye, and leave.
by Jalalu'ddin Rumi, excerpted from Coleman Barks' translation in The Essential Rumi
Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separated.
"Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.
Anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what I say.
Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.
At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,
a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden
within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,
spirit up from body: no concealing
that mixing. But it's not given us
to see the soul. The reed flute
is fire, not wind. Be that empty."
Hear the love fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment
melts into wine. The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric torn
and drawn away. The reed is hurt
and salve combining. Intimacy
and longing for intimacy, one
song. A disastrous surrender
and a fine love, together. The one
who secretly hears this is senseless.
A tongue has one customer, the ear.
A sugarcane flute has such effect
because it was able to make sugar
in the reedbed. The sound it makes
is for everyone. Days full of wanting,
let them go by without worrying
that they do. Stay where you are
inside such a pure, hollow note.
Every thirst gets satisfied except
that of these fish, the mystics,
who swim a vast ocean of grace
still somehow longing for it!
No one lives in that without
being nourished every day.
But if someone doesn't want to hear
the song of the reed flute,
it's best to cut conversation
short, say good-bye, and leave.
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