…atrás dos corpos e das mentes que nós vestimos, para ter algo tangível que podemos tocar… We spend so much time tied up within our thoughts and our bodies, we think This is It, I am here to avoid as much discomfort as I can, here to do what this skin tells me to do, …
The beauty of other languages is that you can see… beyond the walls your own grammar has constructed. The mind finds easy passage in some avenues, where in English, say, or German or some other tongue, it had been constricted. Why consider the Earth an anarchy, a Babel? Were it not for the incomprehensible complexity …
A word from the wind at the window pane the winter’s come to stay awhile the heart longs for heaven the heart looks for sun but this song is sung alone That’s all right there’s a sad kind of sweetness in a song or a sweet kind of sadness that carries you along from the …
Além do tecido da noite, meus queridos, brilha a luz. Sei, pois a noite está furada que nem com agulha, e as faíscas azuladas que vejo… ah será que são únicos estes Sols, desconectados um do outro? Que nada, atrás daquele tecido escuro persiste a verdadeira Luz… bem como, atrás dos corpos e as mentes …
I appreciate all the more how cultivating the habit of choosing Light instead of confusion changes not only my inner world, but paints the external as well. Early morning yoga feels to me as though I myself, infinitesimal against the backdrop of planets and galaxies, and infinite tracts of empty space, am the agent of …
We tell ourselves that what we experience in a moment's time, also passes in a moment's time. We step out into the street, for example, and while crossing a car ignores the red light, and you are nearly hit: whew! That was close. And now it is history. That is a mistaken impression, however. We …
When the eyes are open, all of Creation is reduced to surfaces… imagine the poverty in a world of surfaces. As though all that an ocean offered us was its waves! As soon as the eyes open, the interiors begin to close, the interiors of everything that sight obscures from us, the interior of our …
Been writing over in the Odonata sphere tonight. I continue in this web journal, a journey of personal inquiry and spirituality, carrying an undying (if vain) hope that Señor Manuel will be back to join me some time… Eh, Mañuel, puedese hablar español también, amigo! While the words here reflect an individual path, I have …
The skill of the morning is to wake as if called by a soft bell, or the stroke of a lover, or the flavor of a fresh fruit, or the possibility of peace.
The companion piece Your Son Out There is a song written a year ago (or so), when yet another wave of military and civilian deaths spread across the Iraqi sands. Sand is thirsty for any kind of liquid, sand receives water from the sky or from the air itself, with gratitude and with greed. But blood? Blood …
A lot of good energy was directed to other pursuits for a few days. Our intentional Community, Odonata, offered it's first evening in the Sacred Music Series, concerts with musicians whose art is devoted to the spirit through music. Sitartist David Pontbriand and tabla player Amos Libby entertained some sixty people at the Yoga Center …
The real significance of a pet staying out of doors much longer than anticipated — a cat or a teen, let's say — is in remembering that the whole of this one short life is taken in through five (or more) senses and played out inside of our own being. It is the interplay of …