THE CURE FOR CRAZINESS
 
Have you ever just felt, deep within your heart, that you were onto something big?  I mean, somthing like life altering, big.  Some time ago Nehanda Dreams sent this over and I clipped it and put it on my board:

...from, Absolute Trust In The Goodness of the Earth, by Alice Walker

when we let spirit lead us
it is impossible
to know
where
we are being lead.
all we know
all we can believe
all we can hope
is that
we are going home
that wherever
spirit
takes us
is where
we live.

....the other day I was perusing around the first floor of the hospital, somewhere close to midnight, and I gravitated toward the recycled magazines box where we employees dump magazines we're done with.  Since I'm a major cheapskate when it comes to buying popular magazines, I always peak inside to see what I can find for free.  And so it is that I stumbled upon the June 2004 issue of O! Magazine and found this, below.  Note that I've snipped some parts for brevity sake and to be sure I don't violate copyright.

THE CURE FOR CRAZINESS by Sharon Salzberg

One autumn I travelled to a bookstore in Western Massachussetts to hear Stephen Batchelor, a Buddhist scholar, speak about his recently published book.  As the evening went on, I found myself distracted by a demonstration making its way down the street toward us.  Clear shouts rang out: "What do we want?"  The chanted response came through only as "mumble, mumble, mumble."  I tried to go back to listening to Stephen's lecture, but the mumbles were soon followed by a yell:  "When do we want it?"  And then a roar: "Now! Now! Now!"

::snip::

Our willingness to insist on "now" honors our conviction that we have a right to be happy, to be safe, to be heard.  Our "now" may recognize that others deserve an end to abuse or oppression.
Many situations of loss, exploitation, or injustice are deplorable, and our heart's demand for a better world is expressed in that "now."

But there's also something beautiful and deeply wise in being aware of the rhythms of life, the rhythms of nature.  All of us know the mind-set that says our desires must be realized immediately.  It's easy to forget that, no matter what we'd prefer, dreams come true one step at at a time.  A journey isn't just a vacance between one place and the next but is worth paying attention to for its own sake.  To be tyrannized by time, with its pressures of anticipation, expectation, comparison and judgement, will not make our goals any easier to accomplish.

When my teaching colleague Joseph Goldstein was a child, he had a garden in which he grew carrots.  He was so excited when the first green fluffy shoots came out of the soil that he pulled them up to look at the carrots that were growing and to help them along.  We needn't be in a hurry to reap the results of our efforts faster than the world can bestow them.  Being alive means doing the best we can and then letting nature take its course.  We plant a seed, nurture it, water it, and let it be.  Knowing there's a bigger picture than what we see in front of us, even if it isn't perfectly clear, allows us to be more peaceful, to learn as things develop.  If we can be quieter, more in the moment with what is actually happening, a world of perception opens up for us based on what we are, not on where we one day hope to be.

::snip::

One way of describing an ability to hold our convictions without drawing premature conclusions, feeling automatically defeated, or losing sight of what goodness life might be offering us today is the old-fashioned virtue patience.  Despite the common misconception, having patience doesn't mean making a pact with the devil of denial, ignoring our emotions and aspirations.  It means being wholeheartedly engaged in the process that's unfolding, rather than yanking up our carrots, ripping open a budding flower, demanding a caterpillar hurry up and get that chrysalis stage over with.

True patience isn't gritting one's teeth and saying, "I'll bear with this for another five minutes because I'm sure it will be over by then and something better will come along."  Patience isn't dour, and it isn't unhappy.  It's a steady strength that we apply to each experience we face.  If the situation calls for action, we must take it--patience doesn't mean inertia or complacence.  Instead, it gives us a courageous dedication to the long haul, along with the willingness to connect with the multilayered truth of what is right here.

::cut::

I was talking with my friend today who is also a mother and creative spirit.  We were talking about how fast the summer has passed and though we'd wanted to do more for our children, time has simply slipped away.  My friend was feeling more rotten than I, and I can only credit all that I'm learning from the Tao and from Shambhala and it is this:  we have GOT to learn to be gentler with ourselves and we've got to learn how to cultivate patience.  Over the past few weeks I've been really trying to consciously be kinder and gentler to myself; to recognize all the good that I've done and all the good that I've received.  I am exercising more patience with my mothering process and writing process than I ever had (the two are so much alike).  I told my friend to immediately stop beating up on herself.  Here's a mom who bought caterpillars last year and created a habitat so her preschoolers could watch the metamorphosis process and then, after the butterflies arrived, she and her little ones went out back and set them free.  Is that not beautiful?  And I told her to be gentle to herself, to not feel like their whole lives have to be crammed into one summer.

And then, I heard myself speaking.  Here I have, for the past number of years, lamented and crammed and worried about Plan B's and deliberated back and forth and upside down about these writing programs, being so tremendously hard on myself all the while realizing that writing and being a writer and a mother takes time; takes patience of the Godly sort.  And here I arrive now, realizing that it's okay.  That writing is my Life, this isn't a race and this isn't about taking short cuts because guess what? there are no short cuts.  Writing, like mothering, is something that takes place over the long, long haul. 

And this is why I love Tao and Zen so very much: it's practicality, it's simplicity, the absence of dogma and man made stuff.  Just the pure essence of Life.

Lately I'm feeling really, really good.  Not because I know where I'm heading but because finally I'm learning how to trust, how to be patient in my trusting; finally I can say that I really believe that where I am going is indeed home and that wherever Spirit leads me is where I live.

 

Peace in the Highest,

ANGEL

Check her out when you get a chance.  What a beautiful site:
 
http://www.samanthaspeaks.com

--A.

SIMPLE ABUNDANCE
 
For the artist, there is no greater joy than seeing a project through to its birth.  From conception to the bringing forth of this idea, this belief, this pondering...the artist endures many struggles.  At times there is tremendous self-doubt and the overwhelming belief that one is not sufficiently equipped to paint the painting, write the book, mold the sculpture, produce the libretto.   And yet, there are times of complete confidence, when it seems that the Great Creator is right there in the room, dictating step by step what is to be done.  There are struggles of the everyday sort:  finances, children, work of the bill paying type, distractions and the ordinary social ills that plague the day and chase away the freshness of the air.  And one gets very weary, weary I tell you.  No matter the preparation or the schooling or the lineage of genius....we are all  just ordinary humans enduring these extraordinary experiences trying to find our way toward whole and complete and meaningful expression.

And it is because of the struggle that we must learn to see the goodness and the simple abundance in all that we do, all that we write, all that we paint, all that we co-create.  It is a must that one learn to see the value in  expression whether it is on the page for many or for simply one.  Whether we are reciting poems in the corner cafe for an audience of one or a standing room only crowd, somehow we've got to understand that therein lies the goodness and it is all good.  I am of the mind today that endurance alone is cause for celebration.

I'm writing this because the proof for my book has arrived.  It's beautiful.  Simply beautiful.  The launch date is September, later than we'd anticipated and yet, I find that even the delays are cause for celebration, not cause for alarm or dismay.  There were a lot of technical and graphic issues too lengthy and unnecessary to post here.   My daughter sat wide eyed next to me as we held the book in our hands.  She simply said "Wow," and smiled and I, so very proudly said, "Yes.  Wow."   Though it's not included in this collection, my very first serious poem was written during the East Coast blizzard of 1996 when I was pregnant with my daughter.  I remember the swelling of my spirit during the time that she was growing within my body, during the time that she and I cohabitated in every sense of the word.  I remember looking upon the snow, marvelling at how much had fallen during the first three hours of morning.  I remember Spouse and I, digging out his Mazda MX6 and he, lovingly and gently guiding me back in our small apartment to rest.  So much as happened since then.  We have bought our first home.  We have shared love and made love and created another child.  We have travelled out of the country and argued and made up and argued more.  We have buried our children's only grandfather and I have stood by my husband as he, with water-filled eyes on the day of the funeral, tied his tie and whispered, "Everything I know, I learned from my father."   We have held each other during the roughest of times.  And like two weary sailors caught in the worst of storms, we have tried our best to guide our little boat on the path of least resistance.

I have written many poems since then.  I have mothered and I have created a collective of writers who, until now, didn't know each other.  I have worked on my novel as best I could, all the while holding down different jobs that worked around the children's needs.  I have endured enough to create 112 pages worth of stories and poems.  Do I await the worldwind book tour and the six figure advance that would enable me to live a very comfortable life minus my job?  Of course.  I'd be a liar if I said it doesn't matter.  But what matters more to me now, seeing that I have immortalized my thoughts and my beliefs and my experiences is the process itself, and coming to it with a sense of gratitude; coming to it all with a sense of joy everyday.  To be given this gift and to recognize it for what it is, is a prayer beside still waters.

My only hope is that I will always feel this way.  That I will be good to myself the whole way through.  That I will recognize the simple abundance in every breath, in every step, in every word.


PS:  Oh and look! another juicy find:  http://www.literarymama.com

Enjoy!
--A.

WEEKEND WRAP UP
 
....and so, Artscape this weekend, one of the largest arts festivals on the east coast.  I look forward to it every year....a time to be amongst my fellow artists.  A time to spend ridiculous money on books I don't really need to own, technically.  A time to let down my locs and stroll.
3 days worth of arts, culture, music, food, song, dance....people acting silly for the sake of being silly, which is a good thing.  Face painting, belly dancing, all kinds of folks singing off key.
 
....and yet, this year I could only take one day of it.  Friday night and I was through.  I'm not sure if it was the guy dressed in suit pants, long sleeve white shirt and tie in the middle of 80 degree weather trying to hawk his pitifully obvious self-published novels (one in one hand, one in the other) all the while telling me I have "nice eyes,"  or the guy behind him singing like the clouds were going to fall out of the sky, drumming a guitar, drowning out every bit of what I was trying to hear from the Commodores.  I'm not sure if it was the "Poetry Tent"  where a dude comes up to "drop some science"  on those of us too dumb to keep walking and starts belting off about the "white man trying to keep 'us' in chains."  Right.   Or maybe, just maybe it had something to do with all the women that are too damn FAT to be in hip-hugger jeans and shimmy-shimmy tops with weaves so greasy they could outshine the moon.  Maybe it was the stench of beer and sweat from the men on the sidewalks hollering to the hip-huggers....i don't know.  (note to man in tie:  women like me do not need a lame-duck poor excuse for a compliment in order to buy a book.  if your book looks good and reads good, let it sell itself, okay bruh?)   and let me say for the record, I'm not downing self-publishing.  I'm downing slapping together some pages between a cover that looks like a second grade art project and asking me to spend my hard earned $12.95 for it.  I'm talking about all kinds of missing periods, run-on sentences, no-editing, call-myself-a-writer, self-publishing.  Okay.
 
....all of this to say that i don't know what's going on with me but i'm increasingly turned off by crowds.  Am I turning into a hag?  Or is this Tao really making me yearn for less stimulation, more simplicity....QUIET?  And what, pray tell, is in all of that quiet?  I don't know but I'm easily overstimulated in ways I've never been.  And it's some real weird dichotomy for sure because I yearn to be close to the city, the attractions, yet at the same time I don't want to be in it.  Kind of like an Alice Walker, way up in Mendocino yet close enough to get to Berkeley and San Fran when she needs to.  [deep exhale]  We artists, I tell you, what a pathetic lot we are....
 
* * * * * * * * * * *                                   * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
....and so, yes, you've heard it here that I am officially Feng-Shui'ing my house.  Yeah, yeah, I know all about Wabi-Sabi and how it's supposed to be the new "in thing" and of course, there will be some expose about Madonna and Christy Who-ever who are now Wabi-Sabi'ing their homes but as far as I'm concerned decorating is about creating your own signature space.  It's not about rushing out to Pier One or Homegoods or IKEA or wherever to make an "ooh-ahh" vibe like Cindy and John next door.  It's about recognizing what you have and making the most of your space.  It's about creating a space that nurtures your spirit and most of all, and this is the part I like about Feng-Shui, it's about clearing clutter.
 
Which is why it has taken me this long.
 
....see, before I had my children I was a sincere Pak Rat.  Every magazine, every book, every letter sent from Cousin Toolie was  a  keeper.  Fortune in my fortune cookie?  Gotta keep it.  Menu from my first date with X?  Gotta keep that.  Oh what about that jar of sand from Paradise Island that I brought back?  and the menu from that cute little Bahamian restaurant?  Gotta keep it.  But now, oh dear God, it's gotta go.  If it hasn't been worn or used in the past six months, it's gotta go.  If it doesn't fit now, chances are it ain't ever gonna fit again (not with these hips) it's gotta go.   And that's what I love about Feng Shui.  I've known about it and gravitated to it for so long but the idea of throwing things away just horrified me.  What if I need that issue number 9 of Time Magazine with Lauren Hill on the cover someday?  It might be -- get this -- an heirloom!  Oh, oh...and these jeans, if I just lay flat, inhale real deep, I should be able to get them on.....yea right.  Gotta go.  The other thing I like is the whole study of energy patterns, the Chi of it all. 
 
....and it's funny how the whole thing parallels my writing life.  This clearing away, pulling charachters out, pulling the once quiet ones in, front and center.  This chipping away to get to the inside, the meat.  This wonderful thing we call REVISION.
 
....so anyhow, one hour a day dedicated to clearing.  I hit the magazine rack this morning, a big energy blocker, ripping out the ads and articles I want and tucking them in a simple "KEEP" file, to which I can refer back when I need to.  And I hung a beautiful silver butterfly wind chime off the deck, right where I can see it as I'm slaving over the hot stove.  Silver known for it's feminine energy attraction.
 
....and so, I'm out of here.  Kids are asleep and I do need to get to work.  Just wanted to drop in and say "hi-hi!"  (You know who you are).  BIG SMILE.
 
and the following meditation for today from 365 Tao:
 

ADDITIONS

A few good stops on the road tonight. Check 'em when you get a chance:

Satya
Refuse And Resist
Howard Zinn Excerpt in Sun Magazine
Suheir Hammad


And a new quote from Ms. Morrison (Toni) to your right.

Now that's worth writing down.

Peace.
--A.

NOVELISTICALLY SPEAKING

...and so, here's the thing about novels: they are beasts, four legged with fangs and long, dark hairs, yellow eyes and hoofs that house dark, ragged claws. they are bulbs, planted deep in the earth that you would give tooth and nail to get rid of but every year just keep blooming and blooming. they are cross continent trips on long dark highways; forked roads that sometimes lead nowhere at all. but then, just as you start to panic, looking down at the old gas hand hovering over the red line like a hawk over prey, you realize that hey, look -- there's route 99, it was there all the time. and the beast in the dark you thought was a wolf, turns out to be your sweet lovable dog, good old Langston, woman's best friend.

...and so the problem with most first time novelists and would be novelists is that they are too busy thinking about mile number 3,596; the moment of arrival, the pulling into the station, the "hello ma, i'm here, i made it, i lived to talk about it" moment. too busy worrying about the end, rather than the means. and so if i've learned anything at all it's this: novel writing is a one mile at a time ride. gone are the days that i worry about the next chapter. these days, the days of rewrite and revision, if i can get a tight "right now chapter" where there are no extraneous words, no diversions, no dangling, meaningless verbs i'm happy. if my dialogue sounds the way people speak, with none of the pain-in-the-ass adverbs that pop up in bad literature of ever kind and certainly none of that nagging interior monologue (he thought, she wondered, he considered) then i am good. if i can get just the right hook in the plot to piece to the next hook, i am pleased. and if i know where i'm going, i don't give a rat's ass how i get there, so long as i arrive. if i have to get to mile number 3,596 by greyhound bus sitting next to aunt millie who forgot to put on her polident grip, so be it. if i have to fly next to grandpa joe who's breath is kicking like jackie chan, hey i'll pack my peppermint oil, dab it on a kleenex and pretend all the way there i've got a bad cold....but i will get there.

...the other thing is, i don't talk about the particulars of my novel. it's the whole thing about the power of suggestion. until i reach my destination, i don't need any backseat drivers suggesting i turn right when i know the right way to go is left. and even if it turns out that the way to go *was* right, i'll still be glad for turning left since there's always something useful picked up along the way. and so if an update is needed, then here's the way it is: the novel is coming along great. the "current chapter" rewrites exploded into what now needs to be two chapters and i'm good with it. and this is the thing about revision that i love: the seeing things with a clearer mind, the knowing of the charachters, the peeping under the dress and seeing what's REALLY under there. i'm loving this stage. and not for nothing but the way i see it is, it might be a long ride but you only get one chance to be a virgin. to write in this degree of obscurity. to write from a place where you know you have nothing to lose. where you are under no contract, no deadline. and should i be graced with a two book contract, i will have to say this: i write in my own time, i write for the story not for the deal. i'll be writing until i'm dead so there really isn't a rush for me anymore, which Tao and Shambhala have helped me to understand and embrace.

...and this brings me to why i love poetry so very much. it's economical. it's the bodega down the street where i can run in, run out. there is no threat of running out of gas, because i'm not driving. i'm simply walking, smelling the air, observing the flowers, saying "buenos dias" to mr. rodriguez who owns the joint. i'm in and i'm out. simple as that. poems come to me, i write em down, i do my best to revise them to where i need them to be and that's it. i wrote a piece last week about the children of sudan. fifteen lines at best, it was as if the spirits of the mothers was speaking through me. and that's what it is to me. me, simply the scribe.

...well folks, i'm out. just wanted to plop that on the page. good vibes today. really good. and thanks to tinne for stopping by. she's reading the same book as i, Women Who Run With The Wolves, and the Wayne Dyer, Power of Intention which i just ordered, so how cool is that?

namaste, shalom, peace, and all that,

angel

ps: and by the way, should anyone be alert to how jacked up my punctuation is, it's because it's the kind of thing that i just don't seem to have enough energy to care much about. i do my best, but like with sugar, i put too much of it everywhere. i have an editor that i pay before the real work goes out. sometimes you just gotta bite the bullet.

SIESTA TIME

Since I am forty-five minutes late for my siesta and spent way too much time reading and responding to emails, just a quick note.

Adding this chick to the sidebar since I love her energy:

Katherine and big-up thanks to ZenChick.

Also, figured out the first coupla' purchases from here to include:

Superfoods: Fourteen Foods That Will Change Your Life

Chakra Balancing: Book and CD Set

Detox In A Box: 7-14- or 21 days of safe, gentle detox. Workbook, CDs of Yoga practice, 70 Flashcards and more

AM & PM Tai Chi with David Carrdine

Native Spirit CD: A blend of flutes, reeds and sounds of the earth

CHI Energy Workbook

It's my first foray into a book club like this. Generally I don't trust this, "you're under no obligation" stuff, but it comes at right time since this is right where I am right now.

Will keep you posted.

A.

SITE

Throughout the world, the site where people practiced spirituality has been significant. In the deserts of the Middle East, holy people had visions. In the tropics, sorcerers used spirit possession. In the forests of Europe and Asia, alchemists perfected their arts. In the Himalayas, sages hid themselves away for ascetic practices. Of course, these were not the only places for such arts, but it is more than coincidental that certain practices are tied to the place. If you go to any of these lands, you can still feel the essence that inspired generations.

Thus it is that you should be sensitive to where you situate yourself in the world. Selecting a spiritual site requires subtlety. If you do not know the science of geomancy, it is better to go to a place known to be conducive to what you want to achieve. Then narrow your choice by what you see and feel. If you sense that there is great well-being, that the plants and animals of the area are healthy, that the place is not subject to extremes of weather that would adversely affect your health, then that is the place for you. When you move there, you will be sustained.

No site is forever. If you find that the flow of energy has gone elsewhere or that others begin to ruin an area, then search for a new place of vitality. That is why those who follow Tao seldom have fixed homes. They wanter from site to site so as to constantly remain in the stream of Tao. ----365 Tao, Deng Ming-Dao


** Did I mention, this is the first and last book I read everyday? **


I'm not going to say much about this, other than the fact that here's what I now know:

this whole thing about energy and paths and journeys is real. I am here to tell you it is real. This past week I saw so many loose threads become joined in my life it was almost spooky. The mention of things I had been pondering from two different friends in two different states who don't even know each other. A word from Zen Chick that uplifted me about this place I've lamented being in for so very long. Stepping into the shower, which is the holiest place in my house since it's the place I seem to do all my deepest thinking, I realized that being here has really been part of this journey. That by being here, I have met my truest friends, those who have really called forth my very best. Being here has forced me to be at peace with solitary living (I haven't made many connections here, I'm way to bohemian and artsy, I guess) and so in nine years I have had to learn how to find comfort and grace and beauty in being alone. I have read more, I have created more and I have connected to my God Spirit in ways I don't think I would have, had I lived somewhere else. The women I have met have put me onto women I want to meet some day, through literature I would not have been inclined to read. And being alone has pushed me into a new community, out here online, where I have met new people who mirror parts of me when I am at my best (and you know who you are). Being here has elevated my consciousness and after visiting a new church on Sunday, that seems to teach "new thinking," I sat there, having read every "new book" they mentioned about the Power of the Subconscious, using Affirmations, speaking truth, etc. I sat there realizing that though the place was "nice," I'd probably not be back, because in truth, without sounding too big-headed here, I've passed the point at which they've arrived. And I determined in that wondrous moment of pulling out of the parking lot that I really am okay. That being here has been good in many respects; that I am indeed a life student and I have really come a long way without even recognizing it. I realized that yes, the energy has shifted and I am ready for something new but like all babes, I have to grow and elevate in order to really be ready for that next space and place.

I know that where I'm headed is full of warrior women. They are creative, forward-thinking, solutions oriented women. They are women who are living succulently, living juicy. They are artists and writers and painters and teachers and best yet, they are believers beyond the dogmatic restrictions that attempts to keep us all in chains. They are women with photos to show of all the places they have fearlessly travelled. They are warrior women, Women Who Run With The Wolves (and if you don't own that book by sister Clarissa Pinkola Estes, phD, do get it). And I know this: we are all getting ready for each other. We are in our separate spaces, feeling this urge in our bones, trying to find our way back to the pack. But we will get there, this I know.

And I wrote a poem some months ago, honoring the mother poets, called Para Las Madres. There's a line in it that says:

...together we dwell in the belly of Hope
waiting for the Uprising

when the drums sound
we shall gather at the sea
join anointed hands in circles of seven ....

by the light of wild fires
our bodies shall sway to the clap of waters
listening for the call
waiting for the rattling of bones

we shall sway in the yellow of fire's light
by the light of our father's smiles
our hips shall rise to the rolling hum of the ancestors
ancestors
ancestors
we shall rise and answer to the call.


We shall rise and answer to the call.
And when we get there, we shall be ready.

---A.

ENERGY

There must be a strong pull of energy going on right now. Like a magnetic belt at the center of the Earth. Those of us who are artists, writers, conscious-natural-living-people who treasure and honor the Earth are really feeling this pull. Maybe it's a Pull of the Moon. I don't know but something is happening. There's an urgency in our hearts, deep into our souls. Read Butuki's post and you'll know what I mean.

Man, I'm not alone. Good and bad, I'm not alone.

--A.

REVELATIONS

The longer I live the more I realize that emotions are so fleeting. Some seem to hang around too long, like nagging flies, threatening to spoil the fruit of the entire day. No matter which side of the room you move to, no matter what devices you try to employ to escape the feeling, there they are, foot to heel. Others pour over like warm sunlight. You just want to bathe in the goodness. You struggle to grasp, hold onto the feeling for as long as you can. But like anything in nature, we cannot own it; cannot possess it. As for me, I'm amazed at how, literally, minute to minute my emotions change. Some days I'm riding high and feel like the whole world is at peace (which I know it isn't). Days when my writing is moving forward, when a poem has come through, when I stumble across a book I know I need to own. And then there are days when I'm so far down in the dumps it feels like nothing can pull me out. These are the days we loathe and do just about anything to get out of.

But I'm coming to learn that emotions are un-possessable. Like nature which moves to its own rhythms -- try to wish the winter away and there it is in the morning, biting cold, the earth covered in snow and ice, insistent upon its own work, that of replenishing the earth and contributing to the ongoing-ness of things. Try to hold onto summer and here comes the coolness of fall, the fading away of the color, and soon, the solstice time appears. Emotions are not something we should get caught up in, whether that is trying to hold on or let go. Somehow, as the buddha suggests and we learn in meditation, we have to acknowledge them (as Rumi says in his poem, scroll below to see) let them dwell and have their space and then, when it is time for them to move along, move they shall.

Today was an absolute splendid morning. I was in Barnes and Noble yet again (third time in one week) having a quick conversation with the cashier. I asked if I could hold onto my gift card (though there's no money left on it...I plan to refill it) and told her about a woman who randomly purchases gift cards for herself to use on the days when she is down and out. I said that when funds are low and I'm in to pick up a magazine or some other item I so-called "need to own" it's nice to have hidden money to employ. And the cashier marveled at what a terrific idea that is, she said, "Yeah, because the two seem to go hand in hand, the times when you're down and out are the times you have no money." I laughed and agreed.

But then I thought, on the way out, "this really isn't funny." What does this say about me? about us? That money, an outward thing, fleeting at best, can be the source of my happiness? Can contribute to my joy? Surely I have come further than this, haven't I? Haven't I learned how to be content no matter where I find myself? I thought so. I really did.

And I'm reminded of the opening lines of an Alice Walker poem:

the fundamental question about revolution
as lorraine hansberry was not afraid to know
is not simply whether i am willing to give up my life
but if i am prepared to give up my comfort....."

and so today, just thoughts about thoughts and emotions and the idea of feelings....happiness, comfort, pleasure, pain.

waiting for the answers in the roots of my own tomorrows.

--angel

GETTING TO THE MIDDLE...183

Since I didn't get around to reading my daily meditation until late, I am therefore late in typing this. Technically, I should have typed it yesterday which was the 183rd day of the year. Nevertheless, here it is.

Those who attain the middle
Dominate the whole.

Today is the 183rd day. It is exactly the middle day out of 365. Once you reach the center of anything, you can dominate the whole in any way you please. In chess, those who gain the middle board are usually in the superior position. In a storm, those who reach the eye are safe. In making decisions, those who cleave to the center are wise.

There are 182 days on either side of today to make a year. There is no center day in an even-numbered period. It is the odd-numbered set that has a center. It is the odd-numbered set that is dynamic.

In all areas of life, it is good to establish goals and parameters. Define the scope of anything that you do. That way, you will know when you have reached the center and perseverence will be easier.

from 365 Tao, Daily Mediations by Deng Ming-Dao

*** my personal bible ***