tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9468258296101150562024-02-06T21:57:20.703+01:00Read, Relax, RecognizeGaining Clarity through Profound Texts and Everyday LifeScott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-64520015723783129542023-06-11T11:59:00.000+02:002023-06-11T11:59:20.746+02:00Ain’t Got No Art, No Music, No ‘Rithmetic, And Yet….<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">*Wonder of Wonders, and More Wonders Waiting to be
Discovered*<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-504W3w0GaOuIDJgHdPVVkKZ4WX9sQqIK56I3KRW6eQW5Wl7t6fvLyOs0Vu31BSBx79cAi-DCwIG62YKSDGVaa0MA7ZvQAv3n64TjF74KFpy5SVKRpogw-_sDPn31zo_CyIsJs-GOKQf0fxa3XQgbt_3nZUcePUlAHLYhQFSk7yv7mjvjsqieBkz/s1490/Sam_Cooke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1490" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-504W3w0GaOuIDJgHdPVVkKZ4WX9sQqIK56I3KRW6eQW5Wl7t6fvLyOs0Vu31BSBx79cAi-DCwIG62YKSDGVaa0MA7ZvQAv3n64TjF74KFpy5SVKRpogw-_sDPn31zo_CyIsJs-GOKQf0fxa3XQgbt_3nZUcePUlAHLYhQFSk7yv7mjvjsqieBkz/s320/Sam_Cooke.jpg" width="172" /></a></div><br /> A delightful song
from my youth was a hit for Sam Cooke, titled “Wonderful World,” and the first
lines go: “<i>Don't know much about history,
Don't know much biology, Don't know much about a science book, Don't know much
about the French I took.”</i><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was listening
to this song the other day and was enjoying it for the great tune that it is,
but the lyrics got me to thinking. The school subjects listed as being things the
singer is not good at reminded me that I am not very good at some of them
either! So for instance, art, music, science and math, as incredible as they
are, have not been areas where I have shown (till now) any great aptitude. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, as a
layperson, I am in awe of the power they have to express universal truths and
insights that can be of great benefit. Each of these instruments has a common language
particular to them that allow their gifts to be expressed in communal human
experience, regardless of a person’s background or native tongue. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aren’t we thrilled
by the art and music which so move and elevate us? And then there are the
incredible innovations brought about by science, and the miracles of
mathematics like pi, the Golden Ratio, the Fibonacci Sequence and the equations
that gave us General Relativity and Quantum Theory. Awe-inspiring.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, I
don’t have a talent for these things, but I always had an interest in ultimate
causes. What lies at the basis of any of these phenomena? What is that energy from
which they originate, before it is expressed or defined or made visible or
heard? First there is this primal energy, and then only later come the initial instigation,
conception, inception and creation that bring a musical or artistic or
scientific expression into being. This original energy has no boundaries, no
beginning or end; it is impersonal and not define-able or describable. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is
something else, even deeper, even more miraculous, which these amazing tools of
art, music and science can’t touch. Here I may be treading on thin ice, as what
I would want to describe here may sound very foreign and far-fetched, but I want
to push the envelope a bit. The wise ones throughout time have spoken of an intelligence
that is not based on subject and object, time and space, causation or differentiation.
They point to a core experience available to us all that does not know limitation.
<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have been miseducated
to be fascinated by the content of our experience—our thoughts and emotions,
ideas and sensations—but we generally ignore our essential being which is the
source of all that is experienced. Not knowing of the existence of this
essential being, we seek meaning in objective experience, and we overlook and
neglect the infiinte awareness from which all of the thoughts, emotions and
objective experiences originate. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, I acknowledge
the fact that this is unfamiliar to most people and may seem implausible, but
for those who meditate or who observe their lives carefully and thoroughly, they
see that there is a level of our experience that goes unheeded. We can sit
quietly and see that the mind is an endless source of thoughts, but yet, if we
relax and loosen the fascination with the parade of thoughts, we see that there
is a basis for the thoughts which doesn’t come and go. The mind and the world
of phenomena are in constant flux—impermanent and ceaselessly changing—but there
is something that doesn’t change, which remains ever present in waking, sleep
and dream, and quite possibly in birth, life and death. What is that?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In India there is a
great story about the choice of where to put one’s attention. If someone throws
a ball, most dogs will naturally chase after the ball over and over again, but
if a ball is thrown in front of a tiger, the tiger doesn’t go after the ball, it
goes after whoever is throwing the ball! In this way, we can either chase after
the ball—the thoughts and emotions and the constant flux—or we can be
interested in that from which the ball comes. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my own life, I
can still be fascinated by art, music, science and math, but I know that there
is something greater to be interested in. This greater thing is so precious and
dear and so worthy of reverence and devotion, but it can continue to remain hidden
to us for a very long time, even if we have been tirelessly seeking it. Never
mind. This is where persistence and an iron will come in. “Come what may, I
will not give up. Till my death, I will persist in this inquiry. I will not
allow discouragement to defeat me. I will recognize what is unimportant, and I
will keep my eye on the prize.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you, Sam
Cooke, for the last line in your song: “What a wonderful world it would be.”
Indeed, what a wonderful world, where we are not fooled any longer, where we can
see clearly and without impediment, where we know what is true and what is
false. May it be so. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-75605023966376786382023-02-17T14:35:00.001+01:002023-02-17T14:35:29.754+01:00Hidden Good Fortune<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7wg3yikWg74VdzP-9JHEcimhvTYic8rcYKeG6UbEMJfaUljr4aXqremJU6BWgND6jexCEfUJ4N-lP5SMEuj9R62VoYhm6wIs8qEILru57pNm0dkQW7QfgD_YpCsfXnxBPau__f8JAwWgky_ru8KHpjsPDhsCwtrE6TujtkvKFpmIiIMEUaKu5slM/s3264/IMG_20170515_144123723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7wg3yikWg74VdzP-9JHEcimhvTYic8rcYKeG6UbEMJfaUljr4aXqremJU6BWgND6jexCEfUJ4N-lP5SMEuj9R62VoYhm6wIs8qEILru57pNm0dkQW7QfgD_YpCsfXnxBPau__f8JAwWgky_ru8KHpjsPDhsCwtrE6TujtkvKFpmIiIMEUaKu5slM/s320/IMG_20170515_144123723.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p> I would like to humbly suggest, dear friends, that often our good fortune is very much present, peeking out at us from hidden corners, but unrecognized if we assume that it has to look a certain way. Birthdays are one point in a person’s year when a life can be accounted for, and yesterday such a day arrived for me, but my good fortune did not make its appearance in the way that we have been taught it should come. During these unusual lockdowned times, I have been leading a </span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;" tabindex="-1"></a></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">life of hermetic seclusion in a place that is unfamiliar to me, apart from family, friends and community. Which means that when a birthday comes, there are no friends or family in person to celebrate with, no party to attend, no gifts to gush over—none of the things we usually associate with birthdays.</span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> And yet, I spent my day, apparently alone as I was, embraced on all sides by loving good wishes. I did not lack for anything, and the evidence of my obvious good fortune was all around. I marvel at what has been given to me, and those gifts will continue to arrive in abundance, without even asking for them. </span></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> One of these gifts is the willingness to look at things newly and openly, and to no longer to be bound by conventional norms. So, I have just mentioned the convention of what a birthday needs to look like, but knowing now that this convention need not hold true, what else have we been told that is not true?</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> For my age cohort, it is likely that there will be a few more birthdays, and then death will come. Normally this news is greeted with revulsion, denial and fear, but just as I have come to question the context of birthdays, I have also come to question a lot of other things, including the repeated myths of what death will be. I do not know what will happen when death arrives, but I know to be open to what I don’t know, and to be skeptical of what I have been told about what anything will be. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> The best possible response to the unknown-ness of death is abundant life, richly lived. So, yes, aging, degeneration, decay, disease, death—richly lived and courageously received. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I wish for all great good fortune. May we flourish in our lives and be of benefit to ourselves and to others.</div>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-39798550172633213942023-02-14T17:48:00.003+01:002023-02-17T14:28:28.921+01:00Saint Valentine's Day<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU2JMKlswZEzC4E5q22Q2xY7LWreBiG_ggryvvuMS9YooNCqJ3-cxwgwvuohfBhZ8k6sO-F8MYz5sjWWhW93csDLGT4_4Kka9hw32ss4JBa-y9xVeO0MTMgFBu93FSqLJ4lpYwdkjw1qR4RYRAzTSXljYkMptTb50sb0zQHqIrw3UlVsTswRJrmzvG/s960/Bjorn%20and%20I%20on%20Cafe%20Terrace.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU2JMKlswZEzC4E5q22Q2xY7LWreBiG_ggryvvuMS9YooNCqJ3-cxwgwvuohfBhZ8k6sO-F8MYz5sjWWhW93csDLGT4_4Kka9hw32ss4JBa-y9xVeO0MTMgFBu93FSqLJ4lpYwdkjw1qR4RYRAzTSXljYkMptTb50sb0zQHqIrw3UlVsTswRJrmzvG/s320/Bjorn%20and%20I%20on%20Cafe%20Terrace.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> * Love without reason or context or separate object. Love as the essential principle of our being. *</span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> A day devoted to love . . . for indeed, isn’t it so that all of us all around the world want to love and be loved? Simply that: to love and be loved. Maybe the most fundamental of all desires, one that permeates human society and is evident to the bursting point in so many ways, especially today. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;" tabindex="-1"></a></span>Valentine’s will be a day when the established beliefs surrounding love will be on full display, and restaurants, florists, resort hotels, chocolate shops and greeting card companies will see rich profits. Of course, there are also the wine distributors and video streaming services that provide the many bottles of Chardonnay and the unending entertainment diversions for the people alone at home tonight thinking that something is wrong. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Many unfortunate men who heedlessly overlook the very strict rules surrounding this day will be sleeping on the couch for a while. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> If one is so inclined, a day like today is a brilliant opportunity to consider what actually is going on. What is “love” after all, and is the Hollywood and pop music version of love we have been taught to cherish in fact authentic? How has this come about, and why have things been so prominently expressed in the specific form of romantic love, as if it overshadows all other? </span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> For me as someone who has not been partnered for, what, maybe 200 years now and without much motivation to change that, I feel that I have an outsider’s vantage on the whole parade. I want for the moment to put aside all of the conventional thinking and deeply consider these questions. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> I want to see love not only in its objective form or as a mercantile exchange—“I will love you if you love me,” but love as a fundamental attribute that is not generated or induced. Love without a reason, love as the essential ground of being of who we truly are, love as another word for the inherent attraction of subatomic particles and the unified field of the universe. Love not as a merely human domain, but as an ultimate principle which is not created, but ever exists. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Love for a partner, for a friend or family member, for God or for the suffering world has a new context where ALL is included and embraced and nothing excluded. Again, love without reason or goal or object. Love as the shining forth of the awareness that fully encompasses all phenomena in the form of “good” and “bad,” “wished for” and “not-wished for,” “me” and “not-me.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> So yes, hooray, a celebration of love on this day—and on all days. Love without limit, love amidst all conditions, love beyond birth and death. May it be so.</span></div></div><div id="gtx-trans" style="left: 10px; position: absolute; top: 367.84px;"><div class="gtx-trans-icon"></div></div>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-16443756762560646632022-11-30T14:44:00.000+01:002022-11-30T14:44:13.930+01:00No Travel, No Destination<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFt74cv6-hZIcJvSLz1myQeHOx3KSe5dusE5X4dwmJ7SuN0Fho-j5NmTw0C4jZC2d4tQLaNeeeYPSjQa0J084moue4dp7PAtjf_Ifoylc9KBxaVcdgTiFRUCUXiFQCvBDFIjuVJmtqQ9YD_YGWTwIp6Rei_tZSyX93b_8L0TEu6k1PksGgln1aXUO/s750/Rainbow%20Doubled%203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="750" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFt74cv6-hZIcJvSLz1myQeHOx3KSe5dusE5X4dwmJ7SuN0Fho-j5NmTw0C4jZC2d4tQLaNeeeYPSjQa0J084moue4dp7PAtjf_Ifoylc9KBxaVcdgTiFRUCUXiFQCvBDFIjuVJmtqQ9YD_YGWTwIp6Rei_tZSyX93b_8L0TEu6k1PksGgln1aXUO/s320/Rainbow%20Doubled%203.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;">** The most profound journey is not one that involves traveling to
exotic lands, but rather the path of unfolding discovery that allows us to
clearly see what is always and forever right in front of us. **</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;"> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">When I was very young,
maybe eight or nine, something extraordinary happened. But it wasn’t in the
form of an event in time or a notable experience. It was instead something that
just sort of arrived on the scene unheeded and didn’t ever depart: curiosity
took me by the throat and wouldn’t let loose.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">What a glorious friend
to have, and she went everywhere with me. “What is this; why is that; how does
this thing connect to that other thing?” she would whisper. “What are all those
things that are not plain to the sight and which remain unseen?” was her higher-level
examination question. This urge to look under every rock simmered for a while,
but at some point it boiled over, and its beckoning call would eventually dictate
the arc of my young life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Yes, such a brilliant guide to have, growing
up as I did in the segregated South with all sorts of inherited assumptions
about race, gender, class, acceptable behavior and supposed success. One day,
sitting in a classroom at Myers Park High School, a thought arrived in my mind stream,
“They haven’t told us everything.” I knew at once that the way I was being
educated by the society around me could not be the be-all and end-all. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But where to turn? Who would know whatever it
is that “they” haven’t told us? The books and professors at my university were
a support along the way, but my search wasn’t satisfied by learned lectures. “Well,
the folks up north at those prestigious universities, maybe they know.” Not really.
“Well, maybe it is in Europe; they’ll know what it is.” But it was more of not
really knowing, just with a different accent. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Fortunately, the loyal
sister of curiosity is persistence. Looking, looking, looking—being intensely
interested, picking up each rock, examining it carefully, not finding what was
being sought, putting the rock back down and going to the next one. Over and
over again, and again, and again. Lots of questions, thousands of books, many
stamps in a passport, numerous brilliant conversations, endless retreats and
meditation sessions . . . <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As I move into old age, there is not one speck
of regret for any of that, because you see, I have been allowed an insight. Every
bit of my seeking and longing has led me to where I am today: clarity that this
journey I have been on is not to a place, or a state of mind, or to a finish
line where there is total certainty. No, none of that. I walk in different
shoes now. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The most profound
journey is the path of unfolding discovery that allows us to clearly see what
is always and forever right in front of us. A key part of this discovery is becoming
aware of the miseducation which initiated us into a confused world of hearsay
and misperception. In seeing this, we can relax our grip on all the misbegotten
concepts and presuppositions that have solidified in our lives. We become
humble enough to not-know-but-what-to-know. We are alert to what teaching each
moment brings, and we are courageous enough to heed what is being revealed. No
goal, no destination—no travel needed, no further knowledge required. Resting
as pristine primordial awareness for short moments many times, we are all
already fully arrived. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-91316201781537933442022-09-17T14:13:00.001+02:002022-09-17T14:26:31.463+02:00<p> Unexpected Gratitude</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>For all of us around the world, my goodness, what a time it
has been over these past years and what challenges we have all faced. And yet,
even amidst overwhelming anxiety, care and worry, let us not forget: there is a place of rest for
us---ever-present, ever-available and untouched by any of the descriptions we
could apply to it. To be able to rest in this basic space of bliss, peace and
clarity for short moments many times is a blessing beyond compare. In the great
natural abundance which is our birthright, we are embraced by beauty, and not
only reminded of our many gifts, but brought into full appreciation of them.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> On this beautiful
morning in this beautiful place, I am surrounded by the reminders of these
gifts.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> So, so many things
that we can't even account for which have been given to us...... A man whose
head is being held underwater for minutes has forgotten everything else but
breath, and once his head emerges from the forced imprisonment of the water, he
breathes with delight and joy, gasping in appreciation for something that he had
taken for granted for the whole of his life.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> A village woman in
a war zone in the Sahara gets up early each morning to fetch water from a well
six kilometers away and hopes to avoid the rape, robbery and murder that could
await her along the way. Upon her safe arrival back home, she revels in the
good fortune of the tenuous safety that has been provided to her on that one
day. She would have difficulty imagining people whose source of water is only a
few footsteps away and whose access to it is without any impediment. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> There are
circumstances in which one feels trapped and limited and unhappily dictated to
by the course of fate, and possibly in that circumstance cannot see the benefit. And
yet, AND YET, as we look back on those same circumstances that had been labeled
unfortunate or sad, we can come to feel gratitude for all that we were
given---even if those gifts were hidden from us as they were being given. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> As we continue on
our way and our vision becomes clearer and less distracted, we won't have to
artificially create thanksgiving and fix it for a time or place. We will become
closer companions with the wisdom which embraces us and the sweetness of
experience unfettered by wish or expectation, and the fragrance of these blooms
will be so present and evident for us that no summoning will be necessary. </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEM-_jdJQVE3u7jvukdmN8QKYQAIehvhXBAUnrTLZymbWxxJPw3G9ap4pNjaYQQhMOjfkCwUmevCjxK2lKVTNrz2u0nDeMCQIUugG2OFyULy7UahZWx2IeuPquDtwGHjIaShww3XgiWft7FWTeIiv5tpcf5eVRc-g7mIilBMT3d3AoqLy8XovvgFW/s3264/10%20From%20Oak%20Grove%20to%20East.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEM-_jdJQVE3u7jvukdmN8QKYQAIehvhXBAUnrTLZymbWxxJPw3G9ap4pNjaYQQhMOjfkCwUmevCjxK2lKVTNrz2u0nDeMCQIUugG2OFyULy7UahZWx2IeuPquDtwGHjIaShww3XgiWft7FWTeIiv5tpcf5eVRc-g7mIilBMT3d3AoqLy8XovvgFW/s320/10%20From%20Oak%20Grove%20to%20East.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />May it be so. May we rest in our essential being.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-48745362006011809832022-09-05T14:24:00.001+02:002022-09-05T14:26:39.690+02:00<p><b> Abundant Life</b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> <span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“To live life more abundantly.” Isn’t this a call that so many of us want to heed? In all the many shapes it takes in our lives, don’t we hunger for greater meaning, understanding, love, insight and connection? Even in the misshapen forms that seem so foreign to genuine abundance—greed, mindless consumption, utter self-focus, competition—there is the same wish to live more abundantly . . . only misperceived. </span></span></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Throughout our lives we have been so grossly miseducated about our <span><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a></span>true being and what this “abundance” is that we are searching for. We have been trained to seek within the limited context of a mere human individual looking out at a separate world of objects. We have been trained to think that we are enclosed within this skin suit of a body and that we were born, live and then will die within that body. But, dear ones, is this ultimately true? </span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I have no conclusive or satisfying answers to give you, no guaranteed steps to take. All I can offer is an invitation, to myself and to others, to simply be humble and open. Humble and open. Maybe also courageously available to the possibility of being shocked into recognition by the wonders that surround us—hidden as they have been by the erroneous, inherited assumptions we have cultivated. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Yes, open to what we don’t already know, and extremely skeptical about what we think we already know. To be gifted with the amazement that comes from gently resting moment-by-moment as the settled basic state of infinite intelligence, where there is no goal to be accomplished, no improvement that needs to be made. We can take instruction from a rainbow which both is, and is-not. Teachings surrounds us on all sides. We are not lacking.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTT6p7igNfMCSY63NSN1LvASX0QP8jjh5t_eAE2fSgjMafLQt6tI4NqPfNnHK4s6GsbOxgSp22d-L6nfEgs5Bi8lKwXBv7guE9mvBv9amDTqYT4bYsVyE-3TEsNStHMZ2KVJvNEKiOe3DI1IZOCcv6NnlDzU5OnKO_wEoD0Kn3OZPK6CNi-qB7Jdg/s320/Rainbow%20Doubled.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTT6p7igNfMCSY63NSN1LvASX0QP8jjh5t_eAE2fSgjMafLQt6tI4NqPfNnHK4s6GsbOxgSp22d-L6nfEgs5Bi8lKwXBv7guE9mvBv9amDTqYT4bYsVyE-3TEsNStHMZ2KVJvNEKiOe3DI1IZOCcv6NnlDzU5OnKO_wEoD0Kn3OZPK6CNi-qB7Jdg/s1600/Rainbow%20Doubled.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-4554910538295046222022-07-15T12:05:00.004+02:002022-09-17T14:23:52.667+02:00I See You<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJ9y7wPt4yTKS0R-WnsYsfHpafmSlod11nMzzjQ88f0cCkExv-Nt0JzxquidGzPw5HQpLUVfTYUHg2AaRkFpGFdMS3CsqJp_Qr95jN408zT-aR7GwPnpFVmLP57Rx8us49AeX0DqqQityvWyh-mE7TJ3eLHV-3g1FI-3vwjMgweRPnU9jvim-wNcq/s3264/9%20Oak%20Grove%20towards%20Field.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJ9y7wPt4yTKS0R-WnsYsfHpafmSlod11nMzzjQ88f0cCkExv-Nt0JzxquidGzPw5HQpLUVfTYUHg2AaRkFpGFdMS3CsqJp_Qr95jN408zT-aR7GwPnpFVmLP57Rx8us49AeX0DqqQityvWyh-mE7TJ3eLHV-3g1FI-3vwjMgweRPnU9jvim-wNcq/s320/9%20Oak%20Grove%20towards%20Field.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> Almost a decade ago I was writing a blog titled "Read, Relax, Recognize," and then somehow I fell out of it and moved to other things, but these present times are so fraught with conflict and confusion---it's time to get back to work!<p></p><div>And so, with that short introduction, here we go again!</div><div><br /></div><div> "<b>I See You</b>"</div><div>Many years ago I was on the adventure of my life, driving in a VW van with friends across the Alps, through northern Italy and into southern France. On the Saturday night before Easter, we arrived in the beautiful ancient city of Arles. We parked the van and quickly found a seat in a café in the main square, close to the ancient Roman amphitheater, very eager to observe the holiday crowd doing all the interesting things that crowds do.<br /><br />Many of the local men had been drinking heavily throughout the evening, and all around us was noise and mayhem. Suddenly, two guys began shouting at one another, and as they grew angrier and angrier the conflict escalated into a right violent fight with lots of flying fists. As they were too drunk to land many blows, they ended up grabbing one another’s shirts and continued the struggle that way.<br /><br />Both of the men were completely lost in their anger, and this sad episode was surely not meant to have a peaceful outcome, but then something quite extraordinary happened. One of the men happened to glance into the eyes of the other, and then amidst the struggling, he kept looking. His opponent could sense that the other man was actually seeing him for the first time---not as an enemy but as another person. At once both men looked deeply at each other, they held their gaze, smiled, gave up their struggle and began to dance together in one another's arms. Yes, they danced together in one another's arms!! How amazing and unexpected a change of attitude it was. <br /><br />In the whole of my life I will never forget this, and it is not only because we were saved one bloody fistfight on an Easter evening, but also because this is such a grand metaphor of how life can be. When we actually SEE one another as fellow human beings, our apparent differences look a lot different. We can have wildly divergent opinions, be of different ethnicities, have opposite views of politics and have no language or culture in common, but we can surely see one another despite all of that.<br /><br />There is a beautiful greeting in the Zulu language: “Sawubona.” It means “I see you,” but this lovely phrase is not meant only in the common way of, “Oh, there is a body standing there,” but rather, “I see you in all your humanness and in our commonality as people.” When we see another in this way, we are seeing the essence, and we are not being distracted by all the labels and distinctions. When we have this clear vision, we allow our recognition of the oneness of all things to be sustained. We hold this truth to be self-evident---that there is only One thing here, and when we see, that One-ness is what we are seeing.<br /><br />“Namaste” is another lovely greeting that exemplifies what I am pointing to. This is a greeting used in India; the word comes from Sanskrit and is a combination of “nama” and “te.” "Nama" means to bow, make reverential salutation or have adoration for, and “te” means “to you.” Its deeper meaning is “the god in me bows to the god in you,” and the greeting is done with the two palms brought together in front of one’s heart to symbolize the oneness. How wonderful a way to greet and be greeted, and how brilliant a reflection of the way things really are! <br /><br />As noble and as inspiring as these customs are, it is so easy to forget this practie of clear seeing, isn't it? Surely we need reminders as we move through our day-to-day existence. We are constantly coming into contact with people with whom we wildly disagree, people who we feel are getting it totally wrong, and we sense the need in ourselves to make them see their wrong-ness. It may well be that at some level, yes, they <i>are </i>getting it horribly wrong, but where is our attention directed? Are we seeing only our disagreements and their wrong-ness, or are we truly able to SEE them as essentially non-different from ourselves?<br /><br />When we observe a passenger at the airport shouting and cursing at the employee because the plane was late, we can be pretty sure that the passenger has lost sight of what really matters. If, however, we can bring forth loving support, respectful relating and gracious kindness---even in the midst of grand disagreement or upset---then we can be equally certain that the important things are being acknowledged.</div><div><br /></div><div>I look at the present political landscape in the US and I observe people expressing points of view or supporting theories that seem to me, well, crazy. But I have to pause. My first reaction upon hearing these things was to resist and make the people wrong and to get angry that they could think and behave in this way. Then, thank goodness, this practice of seeing somehow came to the rescue. I could still disagree with them, but I did not need to disdain them or make them "other." Instead, what I found myself doing was introspecting: "The things these folks support truly do seem crazy to me, but, BUT, what are the ways in which I am equally deluded?" Seen from the vantage of absolute clarity and wisdom, how many of my long held assumptions are crazy, that is, totally misaligned with reality? Humility is crucial; we should never assume that we have it absolutely right, for who knows how very much we don't know? </div><div><br /></div><div>When I first came to study, live and work in Germany, it was only a few decades after the war. The older Germans I was meeting who were so kind to me, what had they done in the war? Likely many of them had personal stories that they were not very proud of. The priest in the Catholic dormitory where I lived had been in the Wehrmacht and in an American internment camp. The administrator at the tennis courts where I taught tennis in Munich had been in the SS on the Eastern Front. What horrors had he seen, and committed? It was an education for me. I could condemn the actions and want them to take responsibility for what they had done, but I could not hate the person. </div><div><br /></div><div>And now for the most extreme example; please bear with me. This horrible war in Ukraine which Russia has unleashed not only on Ukraine, but in a sense, on the whole world. We see Russian soldiers committing atrocities; we see civilians dying in the streets, children blown apart by bombs, the grandmother of a friend of mine, 91 years-old, killed by shelling in Mariupol. I am struggling here; how can I make peace with the anger I feel for the Russian soldiers and their leaders who are doing these horrible things? </div><div><br /></div><div>A friend recently posted a YouTube video of 220 Russian musicians really rocking out to the song "The Final Countdown" in a park in Moscow last year, before the war began. Look at all of these beautiful young people and this gloriously happy scene, viewed 2.7 million times by people from all around the world. These young Russians are laughing, singing and playing their hearts out. We can all share their joy and feel the commonality with them. And yet, maybe some of these same young Russian musicians have been conscripted into the army, and they are the ones who are now raining death and destruction on civilians in Ukraine. I surely cannot justify or support their actions, but no, I can't hate them. In my mind's eye I see them there playing their instuments in the park in Moscow---living a human life with all its twists and turns. I know there are many ways to respond to the tragedy that they are participating in, but hatred is not the way.</div><div><br />As with all things, the decision to maginalize, or to include, is a choice we have. No outer circumstance can force us to forget our commonality; we decide that for ourselves. As for myself, I know for sure that I want a life that is filled with joy and peace and which aspires to find the end to conflict, both in the world and in myself. Only by each of us making that choice in each moment and in each encounter will the war-ravaged world we live in be transformed. </div><div><br /></div><div>Hmm, better to dance than hate, wouldn’t you say!</div>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-16379891906553089832013-02-15T15:14:00.000+01:002013-02-16T05:16:37.713+01:00Baking Cookies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
</div>Sometimes the simplest of acts can be the most instructive. We can surely appreciate the grand and dramatic gesture now and again, but for me, simple is best. And along with “simple” as a totally admirable descriptive quality, I would also add direct, skillful, clear, beneficial and absolutely appropriate.<br />
<br />
As we rush about with our busy minds, we often pass over what is plainly obvious and right in front of us. Unless we are careful, we can become like inattentive, phone-obsessed teenagers who are oblivious to anything else that passes in front of them. We may also be blinded by inherited notions based on conventional thinking; we may not be able to see how we have been boxed into corners by thousands of years of conditioning and practiced habit.<br />
<br />
Everyone reading this article knows very well where they were when they heard about or saw the horrific events occurring in New York and Washington on Sept. 11, 2001. The sight of airplanes flying into buildings and then those buildings disappearing into the ground was not anything that one would easily forget. People were completely transfixed by shock and did not know where to turn. There was no precedent for something like this, and no one had a script for how to respond. <br />
<br />
One response was from people who immediately wanted revenge. There were shouts of, “Go bomb the bastards,” and “Kill all the rag heads.” Some version of the theme was heard over and over again, “We have been hurt, and now we need to hurt back.” People who looked “foreign” were singled out and threatened or even physically attacked on the streets.<br />
<br />
But other people had a different response. For them the choice was not to lash out in hatred, but to ask themselves, “How do we deal with our own pain and the pain of others; what can be done to help those in need?” Some people actually got in their cars and drove up to New York to get right into the work of recovery. <br />
<br />
I heard a wonderful story about a woman who, like everyone else, saw those images of airplanes flying into the twin towers and was shocked, and like so many people she wanted to do whatever she could to help. Now for her, New York was very, very far away and there were immediate obligations that needed to be dealt with in her own place, but still the movement was there to somehow offer help in this trying time. <br />
<br />
So, what did she do? Well, she baked cookies. Yes, she baked cookies and then took them around to offer to people. Now, I suspect that it was much more than cookies that she was offering when she went around, as I should think that she wanted to find a way to comfort, reassure and console people who could certainly use a dose of that. I feel fairly certain that this notion to bake cookies for people arose quite spontaneously and without great planning, and it was done in an effortless and unpretentious way. <br />
<br />
When I first heard this story, it just warmed my heart. Of course, it is not so much about the cookies--and I am a big fan of cookies, I might add!--but about the skillful means in time, place and circumstance. It need not be, as I said before, a grand gesture. Something simple and kind in a completely ordinary way can be the most helpful response. <br />
<br />
I have found this example so instructive, and I am eager to find ways to put the same wisdom to work in my own life. What I do know for sure is that being a part of the solution sure beats being a part of the problem! That would mean, for instance, that if one is attacked or defamed in any way, the most helpful response is not to do the same in return. It is clear that Gandhi’s quote in this regard is so relevant. “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” <br />
<br />
It may even be that no response at all is the best response, but there is no rulebook for any of this. If we are truly relying on open intelligence, there is no predicting what the response will be. Everything is discovered spontaneously, and everything is ever new in each appearing here-and-now. I am so cheered and encouraged to look around me and see the kindness, benefit and graciousness that come from people doing just that. The world is so filled with negativity, selfish concern, close-mindedness and intolerance, but how beautifully these noble traits shine in contrast.<br />
<br />
We are the ones who create the world we live in, and each and every moment provides us a choice as to how we will receive that moment. What joy it is for me to see the choices that more and more people are making to love one another into being. Yes, truly, there are a lot of cookies being baked out there. <br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-43819318840630582592013-02-02T17:40:00.001+01:002013-03-09T04:25:50.910+01:00Authorship Thinning into No-thing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
</div>When anything is said or written, where does it come from, and who says or writes it? Who can claim authorship, and how verifiable is that claim? The answer on a conventional level would seem to be so very obvious: “Well, I said it; I am the author!” But like all things that seem so obvious, there is another way of looking at this, and it is a fortunate person who is led to ask these deeper questions and to keep asking them until the “obviousness” of the usual answer becomes less certain.<br />
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In order to look into this inquiry deeply, we need not formulate any grand philosophy; we only need to closely observe our own experience. In any given moment, when a person becomes very settled, rested and still, when they want nothing and know nothing and are freed of the need to defend or defeat, then an authorless place is allowed to appear. From that authorless place, one is not speaking from memory or relating the present to the past. The complete reliance on the here-and-now in that immediate time, place and circumstance invokes an intelligence from which the ever-new can appear.<br />
<br />
The speaker in that case would be hearing what is being spoken as if it were spoken by someone else; the speaker would be the first one instructed by what is being spoken. That is to say, the speaker is being educated and enlivened by what they themselves are speaking---how extraordinary! One cannot actually identify the source, as what is being expressed is not limited to the personality of the one expressing it. This need not sound odd to anyone of us who has ever found speech or writing occurring completely spontaneously and openly, without preparation or goal. <br />
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This authorless expression is not something that is cultivated, contrived or aspired to. It may seem to be a rare thing only because of our lifelong allegiance to the rumblings of the mind: the thoughts, emotions, experiences and stories that have seemed to be so very real for us. When we relax our hold a bit and allow all of these things to be as they are, we then allow this intelligence to reveal itself that is not bounded by the thoughts, emotions and experiences. The mirage created by thought is seen through, and once we are no longer transfixed by the mirage, something quite marvelous occurs. <br />
<br />
For short moments, many times we continue to allow this authorless place to become unconcealed. This movement of unconcealing may happen sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but this doesn’t matter. We persist, never letting loose of our genuine enthusiasm and courageousness. We are sustained over and over again by the brilliant practice of short moments many times, the skillful means of a loving teacher and a direct teaching, and the support of a community of fellow discoverers. <br />
<br />
We gain more and more confidence through our own direct experience that this authorless place is ever present and ever sustaining and is not something that we need to earn or acquire. When words are authorless, then the perceived gap between speaker and listener is given up, and no one is a stranger. Authorship thins into no thing or no person in particular, and what seemed impossible for a person before is now gloriously possible. <br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-53378730326373207982012-10-02T15:30:00.000+02:002013-03-09T04:27:10.802+01:00ExaltationExaltation: now there is a word that does not generally come up in polite conversation! To exalt others, to exalt ourselves and to exalt the lives we are living is, well, not generally on everyone’s daily to-do list. For many of us such a thing might appear to be not only mightily inappropriate but also totally impossible. “What, me exalted? Come on now.” <br />
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We have grown up with a barrage of perceived limitations, wrongdoing, faultfinding and diminishment, such that we would find it difficult to imagine a life free of such things. Quite apart from what we might hear, for example, in church or synagogue, totally permeating all of society is a pervasive flavor of original sin, of being flawed, of being thrown out of the garden. This same mind set might be extended to include karma and reincarnation and other beliefs that diminish us. We have been trained up in and grown so accustomed to these powerful forces of internalized oppression that there seems to be no other way of being. <br />
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We can easily recognize externalized oppression in countries with dictatorships, tyranny, political repression, extreme class, ethnic or gender bias and overt discrimination in its many forms, and we can not only recognize these things but also acknowledge the total revulsion we have for them. However, within ourselves, these profound levels of internalized oppression are just assumed, sustained and perpetuated from one generation to the next. “Wrong, wrong, wrong; bad, bad, bad; insufficient, insufficient, insufficient.” Ironically, even in cases where the opposite seems to be manifested--“I am the greatest; look at me”---there is nevertheless still a basic sense of wrong-ness present. <br />
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Well, what to do? My experience has been that there is nothing to be accomplished by trying to talk ourselves out of this. We can do all the positive affirmations we want, but at some point that is going to break down. We could undertake massive self-improvement projects, but as long as the basic, underlying configuration of negativity is in place, the methods that are applied will always be arising from the same flawed context which they are meant to defeat. <br />
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Ah, but there is a way out! Or, better said, there is actually no way out and no way in, because we have never been apart from that which is totally untouched by any of this---the pure, pristine, primordial open intelligence that pervades all things. We are resting in that intelligence at all times and have never left it; we have only been distracted by things that caught our attention over and over again. So, instead of constantly focusing our attention on the flaw, we simply let things be as they are. Without grasping, without improving, we simply let things be as they are for short moments many times. Without seeking or wanting anything, we rest and relax into the pervasive open intelligence that becomes increasingly evident once we choose to put our attention there. <br />
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This is such an incredibly simple practice and is sure to bring the result. It is a time-tested method that actually works; the benefits are not theoretical but actual and provable. This simple practice of relying on open intelligence for short moments many times is the first of four sustaining foundational mainstays. The second mainstay is to be supported by a person who has more experience in this practice and who knows all about the things we will be going through along the way---so, a teacher or trainer who helps bring us along. The third is a sustaining training with media that elucidate and reaffirm and clarify at every step. Whether the message comes through texts, audios, videos or direct trainings, it is an unvarying beacon towards truth. The fourth mainstay is a worldwide community—a community that no one need join and from which no one can be excluded.<br />
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So, now we come full circle back to the original theme: exaltation! Through a simple practice and the support of all these mainstays, a crack begins to appear in the bastion of wrong-ness that has so dominated our lives. We just relax, and then we relax again, and by doing so we are pulled out of the mud and our eyes are opened to possibilities never before imagined. We see the exaltation in ourselves and in all of life that is unearned and unaccomplished---the exaltation that is the natural luminosity of open intelligence.<br />
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Our vantage shifts almost without our noticing how or when; where once we saw flaws in ourselves and others, we see exaltation. Life has a spark and a power that it seemed to have lacked before. We are not embarrassed by the idea that we are indeed exalted beings whose birthright is one of joy, courage, wisdom and ease of being. We never meet a stranger, and what we see in ourselves we see in others. We discern that no matter what possible criticism can be leveled because of claiming these things to be true, we know our own experience and we are undaunted. <br />
Exaltation, exaltation, exaltation. <br />
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</div>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-82725342873923102692012-07-30T18:55:00.001+02:002013-03-09T04:28:35.573+01:00Knowing Nothing, Wanting NothingWhen I was a young man, I was very much in search of heroes. I saw so many things around me that were uninspiring and insufficient, and I knew that I wanted something in life that went beyond the mundane compromises that filled my life and the lives of others. I did everything I could to discover people who had lived lives that were worthy of emulation. I found a goodly number of people to admire: Albert Schweitzer, Mahatma Gandhi, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Raoul Wallenberg and Mother Theresa, among many others.<br />
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One literary figure in particular stood out for me: the Greek writer Nikos Kazantzakis. Most people wouldn’t know him, or if at all they would know him for his novel, “Zorba the Greek.” But I was interested in him more for his spiritual yearning and the passionate writings that came from that, such as “The Last Temptation of Christ,” “Saint Francis” and his most significant work for me, “Report to Greco.” <br />
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Kazantzakis was a rebel who would not be limited by conformity or orthodoxy, and he was eventually excommunicated from the Greek Orthodox Church. Due to this excommunication, when he died he could not be buried in a cemetery. He was instead buried on the city walls surrounding Heraklion, Crete. I was so moved by his intense devotion to the inquiry into truth that I made a sort of pilgrimage to his grave site — with “Report to Greco” firmly in my hand. When I came there, I found an intriguing epitaph on his gravestone which read, “I hope for nothing; I fear nothing; I am free.” <br />
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I felt immensely inspired by those words, but I don’t think I really had any clue at all as to what they actually meant. I could understand the virtue of fearing nothing, but how could someone hope for nothing? From a conventional point of view, “to hope for nothing” appears to be a stance of complete nihilism and pessimism. What would life be if we could not hope for anything? That idea perplexed me. But the more I pondered the deeper meaning of the idea, and the more I had rich life experiences that pointed the way towards freedom in immediate perception, and the more I saw incredible people courageously living in that way, the more it dawned on me what this could mean. <br />
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This phrase is pointing to an incredible teaching that can set one free from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. By hoping for nothing, we are in a totally alert and easeful relationship with life; we are not resistant to what is. This is NOT a stance of passivity and inaction; no, not at all. Quite the opposite: it is the hero’s stance, one of complete strength, vision, trust, courage, commitment and service to the benefit of all. The hero’s stance is always right now — not lost in the figures of the past or fearing the challenges of the future. Gain and loss, coming and going, death and disease, joy and love — all of it flowing to us in an unbroken stream without the resistance of hope or fear. Right now, right now, life in all its abundance and in all its many twists and turns, right now.<br />
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There is another way to perceive the hero’s way. We could call it the path of knowing nothing and wanting nothing. Once again, if this is understood in the wrong way, it would seem to point to a lifeless and vacant response to life. Oh, my goodness, how very much it is the total opposite of that! To know nothing is to be in a beautiful dance with all of life, where we are seeing everything as if for the first time. Because we are not at all relying on all the burdensome prejudices of the past, we see with complete clarity and openness. In knowing nothing, we have open access to all knowledge. By no longer relying on our vague notions, we emerge into a profundity of seeing that is unimaginable from the mere vantage of fixed ideas and small-minded opinions. <br />
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To know nothing and to want nothing…it takes some getting used to, doesn’t it! Because this is so unfamiliar to us. We were never educated or encouraged to know nothing or to want nothing. Quite the reverse, of course: we have been trained our whole lives to gather ideas and forms that will keep us safe and to acquire people and things that will complete a life that is seen to be incomplete. <br />
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To know nothing and to want nothing is the vantage that will best serve us when death finally comes to us. At the point of death, wanting and knowing will be of no use to us. We don’t know what our death will bring, and nothing we can hope for will prevent its coming.<br />
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Wanting nothing and knowing nothing, we truly live the life that is right here, right now. We are heroes in the greatest sense of the word; we are mastered by nothing and limited by nothing. All of what is possible is available to us without having to ask for more. <br />
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</div>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-41868931672173637482012-07-14T20:38:00.002+02:002013-03-09T04:31:04.636+01:00Education in the Nature of MindOnce upon a time I was a young lad of sixteen, very much like most of the other sixteen year-olds who surrounded me, and I was set to begin a life devoted to the values of the culture in which I grew up in the southern U.S. I was meant to follow a familiar path, one laid out for me by my family and community, whose lives were also consciously or unconsciously shaped by the values passed down to them. The swirl of school, sports and the social activities surrounding country club, debutante balls, dances and girlfriends swept me up and carried me along. This was all I really knew, and it all seemed fine to me. Some version of this lifestyle was what was probably meant for me for the rest of my life.<br />
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Then something very interesting and unexpected happened. Suddenly and without any cause, reason or forewarning, while sitting in Mrs. Sutherland’s class at Myers Park High School in Charlotte, NC reading a psychology book, a strong notion just arrived in my mind stream: “They haven’t told us everything.” Now, at first glance that might not sound like much of a revelation, but for me it was an incredibly powerful eye-opener and motivator. I knew very directly and immediately that there had to be more to life than what was being presented to me, and that whatever this “more” was, it was very much worth discovering. But where could I go and what could I do to find this “more” that they hadn’t told me about?<br />
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This slight break in the worlds — this glimpse into a higher significance in life — set me off on a lifelong journey. My approach altogether was very much like trying to put lots and lots and lots of puzzle pieces together, form a coherent whole and then figure out the whole cosmic picture through intellectual means. The first step on the journey was one taken in the direction of wanting to learn EVERYTHING. This meant reading every book possible, asking every question and looking under every rock. It then also took the form of extensive travel over a period of many years and a broad exposure to other cultures. I had concluded that if I could live for an extended time in other countries, learn the languages, read all about everything and be totally conversant with the history and culture, then I would be on the right track. <br />
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The next step on the journey was to go off to India and immerse myself in the spirituality available there. I would eventually find a number of wonderful teachers and would end up spending a number of years there in a monastic setting. I was dedicated to a meditation practice and intensive study and was living quite an austere and introverted life, and this was very satisfying and inspiring for me.<br />
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Now, please let me make it perfectly clear that I do not for one instant regret any of this journey. It was a completely wonderful adventure which provided me so much, and I am extraordinarily grateful for all that I learned, experienced and received. However, this “more” that I had been looking for from an early age remained elusive. Along the way I had heard very wonderful descriptions of it, and I had had glimpses of what it might be, but the ongoing, moment-by-moment experience of that special something still seemed to be out of reach.<br />
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This was to change. Through a very simple teaching that pointed to the basis of all things through my own direct experience, I came to see that nothing had ever been lacking. The “more” I had been seeking is not a “more,” but is just this, right here and now, with nothing needing to be added. This essential knowledge is available for everyone; it is our birthright and is not earned or achieved.<br />
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The good news is that now I can say with full conviction that whatever it was that I was looking for has never been out of reach. The deliriously joyous fact is that what I and so many others have been looking for is that which was doing the looking; that which we were looking for is simply what was looking! Who would have known! It was never a matter of finding something, accomplishing something or being something other than I already was. <br />
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What is required to come to this recognition is an education in the nature of mind. Another way of saying “education in the nature of mind” is “unerring instruction in and direct experience of the nature of existence.” This knowledge of the basis of the mind is the knowledge, knowing which, all things come to be known. It is the most essential and fundamental knowledge, but it is for the most part completely lacking in our schools, universities or anywhere else in society for that matter. We may know every possible fact in every available field, but if we are lacking in the education of the nature of the mind, then the basic knowledge necessary in all fields will be lacking. How ironic — we have seen so much advancement in learning as well as an exponential increase in educational resources through the Internet, but yet the most crucial form of education has remained neglected. <br />
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It also became clear to me that the apparent diversity that we perceive is in fact all one thing — uncreated, indivisible, timelessly perfect, uncompounded and totally permeated with pure benefit. No matter what appears, it is nothing other than this profound intelligence that fills every speck of space. We have gone through our whole life convinced that thoughts, emotions, experiences and all phenomena had an independent existence; however, through education in the nature of mind we come to see that we have merely been falsely educated in this matter; that is all. <br />
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It is just a simple matter now of being rightly educated. What is required for this right education to occur is an openness and interest in what is true. If openness and interest are there, then upon introduction to the education in the nature of mind and with further immersion in unerring instruction, a new vantage will be trained up. <br />
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I am not describing some theoretical circumstance which will occur at some distant time in the future. This is my own lived experience and the experience of so many others. I do not have the depth of vision to predict what will happen in the future, but I know that right now education in the nature of mind is spreading around the world and is influencing thousands of lives for the better. Right here, right now, the teachings in the education in the nature of mind are available for all.<br />
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</div>Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-84765989799220023622012-06-14T19:07:00.000+02:002013-03-09T04:32:03.492+01:00Ship-Shape, Bristol Fashion and Amazing Grace<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
</div>This is a message addressed to a place which I have never visited and to the people living there, many of whom I have never met, but for whom I feel such affection and appreciation. These are people who are living a life of passionate service to others, and this is my love letter to them in thanks for that service. In acknowledging them as one shining example of benefit for all, I thereby acknowledge as well all the people all around the world who are living in the same way. <br />
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So, first to the title and the reason for this letter: “Ship-shape and Bristol fashion” is an old expression in Britain that almost no one uses anymore, which means “efficiently arranged, in good order.” It comes from the fact that the city of Bristol was once one of the busiest ports in England, but it is located on an estuary where the tidal range is ten meters. So, at high tide the ships are floating on ten meters of water, but at low tide many of the ships would end up touching the bottom of the harbor and could tip to one side. Everything on the ship needed to be properly secured; otherwise, it could tip over and break. Hence, the sailors needed to protect the cargo so that it would be “ship-shape and Bristol fashion.”<br />
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Another aspect of Bristol’s maritime history is that in the 1700s it was the leading port for slave ships going to Africa and then to America. Over a hundred-year period, as many as 2,000 ships left Bristol to transport almost a half million people into slavery. One of the many slave-ship captains in those days was a man named John Newton. He was originally pressed into involuntary service in the Royal Navy as a young man, and he was known to be one of the most disobedient, disrespectful and foul-mouthed sailors on any of the ships. He had frequent arguments with the officers, and he was actually imprisoned for a while for his bad conduct. Nevertheless, through his intelligence and sailing skill, over time he gained the respect of his superiors and was eventually promoted to the position of captain on some of the slave ships.<br />
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While he was on a ship sailing in the North Atlantic, a huge storm blew in and battered the ship so violently that everyone onboard was sure that they would sink and drown. Newton felt the fear and emotion so completely that in that moment he experienced a spiritual conversion. He gradually gave up his old ways and decided to begin a new life, and he would eventually write a hymn of redemption and liberation that is known all over the world—“Amazing Grace.”<br />
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So, now, how does all this tie together and what is this “love letter” really all about? I so enjoy looking at words in a new way and seeing a meaning that was not apparent before, and when I first heard this phrase “Bristol fashion,” an image came into my head and I understood that phrase is a manner vastly different from the one which it had originally. <br />
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I happen to have many friends in Bristol who are a part of a worldwide community of people who are devoted to serving all, and who exemplify a way of life that is a model for how people can live together happily. I feel sure that, based on this and other models of its kind, more and more communities around the world will emerge in which the culture of gratitude and service is pervasive. The more I thought about this incredible change in the world—that people can come together in harmony with one another with the intention of serving one another and serving all—the more I came to understand the phrase “Bristol fashion” in a new way.<br />
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This way of life, this Bristol fashion, has a lot to do with the recognition that John Newton had and why he was moved to write a song about amazing grace. His song is about finding a simple and sincere way of living that liberates through faith: “I once was lost but now am found; Was blind but now I see; Was grace that relieved my fears, that gave me a life of joy and peace…bright shining as the sun,” and so many other bountiful lines. <br />
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However, these would only be so many words if they were not actually realized in the lives of people. But, yes, these words are coming alive in people all over the world. This Bristol-fashion way of living has a lot to do with making a simple change in one’s life—a change in which one relies on one’s own inherent peace, harmony and clarity, rather than being ruled by all the wild promptings of thoughts and emotions. It is such a simple choice and a simple practice: over and over again, regardless of what arises, one rests in that place of peace. This directly and inevitably leads to freedom from the enslavement to a raging mind. When one makes that choice over and over again for short moments many times and then can come together with others who are also living that way, marvelous things can happen. <br />
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So, this little love letter to those people in Bristol and around the world who are living in the Bristol fashion is an act of gratitude on my part—gratitude for wonderful people who are dedicated to bringing joy and abundance into the lives of others. How empowering it is for me to write these words and feel such confidence in their coming into fruition—that there will in fact be the amazing grace of people living all over the world in the Bristol fashion. <br />
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Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-432204730404542632012-05-15T20:28:00.000+02:002013-03-09T04:33:16.127+01:00Why It is Actually a Good Idea to Celebrate Your Birthday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
</div>So, okay, first my confession: for all of my adult life I chose to keep my birthday a sort of elusive secret. Sure, my family knew when it was, and girlfriends would find out, and potential employers would have to have a record of it, but otherwise my response to kind inquiries about the day would be, “Sure, it’s on February 31st” and we would have a good laugh together. <br />
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I think the issue for me was just one of not wanting to bother with it or for people to make a fuss. I absolutely didn’t want a party or any cards or presents or any acknowledgment at all. I also came from a spiritual tradition that frowned on focusing on the individual, and part of my interpretation of this stance was that one should not be special or stand out in any way. So, the 30th birthday came and went, then the 40th and the 50th and all the birthdays in between, and the same routine of keeping quiet would remain intact. <br />
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Then something interesting happened. Two years ago, very innocently, someone who had access to my personal records kindly wished me “Happy Birthday” on a conference call, and the cat, as they say, was out of the bag. Because the actual birthday date was not mentioned, some friends who were on the call emailed me to find out the exact day, so I just thought, “Well, what the hell, I will post the date on Facebook, and then those folks will know.”<br />
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Now we come to the point where a grand discovery was made. People started to write in to wish me a Happy Birthday—mostly people whom I knew directly, but then old friends from high school, and then friends from my years in Germany, and then others and more others. I thought, “Wow, look, because of this I get to be in touch with these incredible folks! They are such a rich part of my life, and many of them I hardly get to see at all.” I was so touched by the notes they wrote, and it seemed entirely fitting and proper to write them right back with my own thanks. In the same way that they appreciated the opportunity to offer their gratitude to me, I felt such a joy to be able to offer it right back to them.<br />
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And this is how I discovered why it is actually a good idea to celebrate your birthday. It isn’t an excuse to fixate on oneself. No, not that at all. It is about being with the people we love in this way and having that opportunity to share our loving affection for one another. If they wanted to express their gratitude to me, that felt so natural, because I so much wanted to express my incredible gratitude for them. What better way for people to come together? Really, what better way for people to come together than in dear, sweet love.<br />
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So, yes, today happens to be my birthday, and the day has been such an absolute joy. Each time I receive a new notification of a message on Facebook, it is a total touching-in between friends, which is then naturally shared with many other friends. I get the chance to bask in the love that is provided so generously and to wish it right back to the generous giver.<br />
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Over the next 365 days, all of us will have a birthday, and what I know now from finally becoming open to the idea of acknowledging birthdays is that it is a marvelous time to be aware of one’s many, many blessings and to experience the thanksgiving for the people we have in our lives. Yes, there it is: I feel such gratitude for all of you and the lives we are leading together and for what is possible for us. Pondering that graceful blessing once a year for myself, and with all of you on your birthdays throughout the year, has now become a joyous occasion which I will look forward to for many more years to come. Thank you all.<br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-51855503184548209712012-05-06T22:30:00.000+02:002013-03-09T04:33:43.617+01:00Word Euphoria, One Sound at a Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
</div>(Dear Friends, these paragraphs below may appear to be total nonsense unless I first explain that they are meant to be a celebration of words and their melodious sound. I found a few lists of what people felt were the most beautiful sounding words in the English language, and I took the words and pieced them together in a sort of prose poem. So, that is what you have below: a celebration of the most wonderful sounds in the English language!)<br />
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Oh, melody, oh, beauty. The lyrical sound takes a shape; mellifluous music flows and the redolent word entices. An elixir so secret that only the poet knows. Dulcet tones wafting freely with no author. Extraordinaire! Gossamer threads of reverie touching another.<br />
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Nightingale heralds, wood thrush embellishes, peacock astounds.<br />
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Epiphany bubbles forth: luminescent, illustrative, delicious —succulently filled with the intonations of harmony. Resonant, yes, ever so subtle. Nothing superfluous. <br />
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Evanescent and ephemeral these echoes may be, but yet alluring and enticing themselves into memory. <br />
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Allegory: precipitous terrain without a guide. The mist departs.<br />
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Sweet serendipity collecting its members: sea-foam green and tangerine merging into aquamarine. Glistening azure. <br />
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Balancing cinnamon, a dollop of fudge and sweet lavender, what to choose? A lollypop of all? Serene shapes flourishing in chiaroscuro—a velvety overlay with chimera at the edges. No mere disconnected paraphernalia here; all woven together.<br />
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Salvador in paradise… him?? Finding sanctuary in the Elysian fields, halcyon days hinting at the ineffable. Resurrection. Shining aurora above the citadel on the hill. Sylvan sights for sure: the autumnal Worchester meadow rich in harvest, bordered by a brook. No saturnine threats from the heavens, ever.<br />
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What? No meaning here? Think again.<br />
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The feminine sway: curvaceous line—smooth, lithe, dancing vivaciously. Or did he mean to say voluptuous? <br />
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A loquacious ingénue’s silhouette swishing into shadow, both of them sashaying to a chosen place more cozy. A fetching bride she might be? (Voices heard off stage): “Arianna, so narcissistic, and then her shenanigans with no cachet, oh vey.” <br />
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Henri in ennui, lackadaisical, stuck in the mud of shilly-shally. Dressed in melancholy for the party. Not enough courage for soliloquy.<br />
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Back from the boulevards of Vienna and down the cellar door, slowwwwwly, languorously, lugubriously. Sanguine and serene, listen there: suave whispers that curve and don’t collide—cursive forms meandering along. Pandemonium avoided; good for that!<br />
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Assuage the predatory and savage, conciliate with the raging.<br />
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Pensively flabbergasted at the marvelous, amazed when the enigma loosens its grasp. Conflagrations extinguished. Nothing askew. Acquiesce to the opulently miraculous. Silence, as awe envelopes.<br />
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Bamboozled no longer, dear whimsy, let us have more of it!<br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-47926676389073244172012-04-06T16:43:00.000+02:002013-03-09T04:34:35.918+01:00The Hum of BlissStunned into silence by gratitude, I am freed from the bondage of the merely apparent. However long You may have been drowned by the deceptive drone of busy-ness, Sweet Presence, NOW You disclose Yourself. The hum of bliss is Your song, and every speck of space sings it.<br />
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Pervasive, infinitely potent, forever existing but hidden, You slip back the veil and reveal Yourself as overwhelmingly present, despite the distraction of the 10,000 things. You have been a most illusive bride, but in this instant you are no longer concealed. Blessed are the ones who are allowed to glimpse You. <br />
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Dearest, You have never left me, so leave me no more. You have only concealed Your mystery by virtue of Your grandeur. With no lack, feeling no hindrance, seeking nothing, the search evaporates like spilled water on a blazingly brilliant day. <br />
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Yes, the hum of bliss…hummmmm…sustaining all, unfolding in ever more astonishing variety, but never once departing from the here-and-now. Sweetness, oh love, oh joy, You burst forth unasked. Courageously we leave all of what is familiar and grasp Your hand. <br />
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Your beauty is indescribable, but only because it is too vast for human words. Bride of my heart, I adore You. I forsake all others. None of the heedless can wed You, but I know that You are not far away. Whisper in my ear once more, for I never grow weary of Your coaxing. Come to me, Dearest, I will be a faithful lover.<br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-34417844520944791602012-03-23T19:36:00.000+01:002013-03-09T04:35:56.798+01:00Words from the Heart, To the HeartToday I would like to speak of something of great interest to so many of us, and it has to do with how profoundly intimate communication can take place. We so much want to connect with one another in a meaningful way, but the commonplace give-and-take of daily life usually leaves us lacking. We attend to an onrush of words from so many sources, yet we get very little sustaining nourishment from these words, which are typically given and received without passion or conviction. There is no fault-finding intended by saying this, only to point out that we do not often find ourselves in situations where the deepest aspect of another is touching the deepest part of us. <br />
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Somehow, through an extraordinary good fortune in my privileged life, I have come to know of something different from this. When I was a young lad of twenty-seven I first came to India, a place I found to be very exotic and mysterious—filled with myriad contradictions and incongruities. One evening I ended up almost by accident at a large gathering where a very highly respected spiritual teacher would be speaking. I had no real interest in such things, but I was sufficiently curious that I went nonetheless. <br />
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What happened next was beyond anything I had ever experienced before. This woman was speaking in Hindi, a language I did not understand at all, about ideas completely unfamiliar to me, in a context that I had never been in before, but yet when I got up from my seat at the end of her talk, I knew that everything she had said had gone right into my heart. Something had been communicated which would totally change my way of seeing the world, and yet I had not understood a single word. What is this?<br />
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I speak as a person who does not at all tend towards the spectacular or the fantastic, but this was my direct experience. A person spoke, and something remarkable was communicated that did not come from the words that were spoken. It was a direct transmission that allowed an essential intercommunication to be imparted directly and immediately through non-verbal means. Having had this experience, it made me wonder what it implies about the nature of all communication.<br />
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But the example I just gave may be so unfamiliar and unlikely for most people as to be unhelpful, so let us look instead at more viable instances in life where such communication can take place. Can one envision a bond between two people, totally relaxed with each other, easefully coming together in unconditional love and respect, where the words that were spoken came directly from the heart and are received devotedly in the heart? <br />
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Not demanding anything from one another, perfectly present in the here-and-now, speaking and listening from a place of not-knowing, completely freed from the cage of narrow notions of who one is or who the other is. Hearing everything as if for the first time, without goal or obstruction, open in a way that merges the space between the two. <br />
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For this to be so, what would be required? Well, nothing additional is required. There is no effort to make, no habits to be corrected, no attentiveness to be created or obligation to be fulfilled. It is simply a matter of allowing our moment-by-moment attention to be undistracted. We may have been trained in life to follow after all our thoughts and emotions and all our judgments and assessments, but instead, for short moments many times, over and over again we keep returning to our own natural intelligence that is open and vast. <br />
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We discover this place again and again and grow more and more confident that it is not distant from us. We sense to our delight that no one is a stranger and that every sound calls us back to that place. When the heart is at rest in this place of peace, then it is not distant from other hearts that are at rest. From this place of non-separation, the most intimate of heartfelt communication takes place.<br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-5482474785785383832012-02-23T17:34:00.000+01:002013-03-09T04:36:53.996+01:00Stand By MeOh, wow, life’s little serendipities! Yesterday a friend introduced me to something that has really caught my attention: a group of people who want to inspire, connect and bring peace to the world through music, and the approach they have used brings the concept of “a connected world” alive in a really remarkable way. <br />
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What this group does is to have various musicians from around the world play the same song without actually coming together physically. So, for instance there are musicians in California, New Orleans, Paris, Italy, Senegal, Mali, South Africa, India, the Netherlands or wherever else being recorded singing or playing this one song, and then their parts, either vocal or instrumental, are woven together on a soundtrack and video. First you see one singer, then you see another and then another, but all the while the music that all of them are playing together is going on. As the scene shifts from country to country, one is always hearing this unified sound, so beautifully mixed together with all their contributions, totally connecting with the listener/viewer all the way through.<br />
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The blazing metaphor is unavoidable: people all contributing their talents, coming together to produce something that thrills millions of people. There are women, men, blacks, whites, Muslims, Jews, Christians, Rastafarians, long-hairs, short-hairs, old and young—and none of those categories matter in the least bit. It is the coming together that matters. Music is so totally a universal language, and it extremely powerful in the way that it can unite us regardless of our political, ethnic, geographical or ideological diversity. <br />
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It so happens that the most popular song from this group, with over two million hits on YouTube, is “Stand By Me,” a song that I have known since I was very young and which I have enjoyed over and over throughout my life. The basic lyrics go like this:<br />
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“When the night has come, And the land is dark, And the moon is the only light we’ll see, No, I won’t be afraid, no, I won't be afraid.<br />
Just as long as you stand, stand by me.<br />
If the sky that we look upon, Should tumble and fall, And the mountains should crumble to the sea, I won’t cry, I won’t cry, no I won’t shed a tear. Just as long as you stand, stand by me.”<br />
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So many of us want to come together and find a way to dwell with one another in unity—to stand by one another. This song project is just one example of this longing, and there are so many others. I do know one thing though: the peace we are seeking will not come from nations or leaders or peace conferences or even from beautiful songs; it will come from us, the people of the world, discovering our own inherent peace. True world peace is not going to come about in any other way. How could there be world peace with a world full of unpeaceful people?<br />
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First we find peace within ourselves, and then we live a life that responds to the world from that place of peace. As more and more people discover that place of peace, automatically a grassroots movement of peace-recognizers will form without anyone really trying to do so. People will be choosing peace for themselves, one moment at a time, and others will be inspired by this example. They will recognize the benefits, want those benefits for themselves, and the candle flame will continue to pass from one peace pilgrim to another.<br />
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What is beginning in small ways amongst scattered groups of people will build relentlessly in momentum, and at some point it will be unstoppable. “Stand By Me” indeed! Slowing but surely, more and more peaceful people will stand together and will choose peace for themselves. It begins with each of us, one moment at a time.<br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-13930763217344062462012-01-30T05:14:00.000+01:002013-03-09T04:37:51.682+01:00The Marriage of Total Grief and Total JoyWe are told throughout our lives to believe that our emotions have power over us. We learn that if we are, for instance, sad or depressed or grief-stricken, then this emotion is solid and real and it has the capacity to rule us for as long as we are wrapped in it. We are also led to believe that two opposing emotions cannot coexist at the same time. So, say for instance, one could not possibly feel great sadness and great happiness at the same time, as those two solid and substantial states would necessarily crowd one another out.<br />
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I now know from my own direct experience that all of this is completely untrue. <br />
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Recently I was waiting to go up to speak to about seventy lovely friends, and five minutes before that talk was to begin, I was given the unexpected news that a dear friend, a lovely young person full of kindness and compassion, had died suddenly. For a moment I simply stood there in shock with my hands clasped over my face. The grief came pouring in and I was totally absorbed by it. I felt all the deepest feelings welling up, and I was about to break into tears. But I also recognized that I would need to be at rest with this flood of emotion, because I would be momentarily addressing people who had not yet heard the news and that this was not the proper time to inform them.<br />
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I recollected myself, stood quietly for a minute and let everything be as it is. I then went up front to the stage, trembling with emotion as I sat down in the chair in front of a sea of wondering faces. When it was my turn to speak, I had no idea what I would say. However, all of a sudden a vivid image came into my head: the lovely lupine flowers that we have beside the roadside in summer. I spoke of how when the lupines are picked and placed in a vase, they still have the life and intelligence to move towards to sun, separating themselves from one another to give each stem enough space to grow. I described how these flowers, like all the seasonal flowers, had a time of life and then they died. The metaphorical relationship between the flowers and what had happened with our young friend was very present for me, and I was engulfed by intense grief.<br />
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But then, as I just sat there and let the emotions wash over me, I could see that grief was not the only thing present, even if it was overwhelmingly present. Simultaneous to the grief and equally at hand was an awe-inspiring joy and gratitude. I could not say that the joy and gratitude was for anything in particular, but there it was in equal measure to the crushing grief. <br />
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How could this be? I was not in a position just then to figure it out, and thank goodness for that. Instead, I was in a very auspicious instant of total clarity, watching something quite extraordinary happen: two tremendous feelings that I had never experienced at one time together were totally and completed wedded to one another in that precious moment.<br />
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We completed the talk, and I think that it is fair to say that I came off that stage a different person from the one who went up to it. I had seen, in my own direct experience, that the names for emotions don’t matter. Whatever description we give to things, it is all one incredibly beneficial energy flowing in a marvelous and miraculous way. Once this is seen, then it is also seen that there is nothing to be avoided and nothing to be afraid of. Life in all its glory is ever-present in the here and now, and it is only our descriptions that distract us from that gift.<br />
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I am reminded of an ancient teaching which I will paraphrase here: Wisdom is not difficult for those who have no preferences. When love and hate are both absent, everything becomes clear and undisguised. Make the smallest distinction, however, and heaven and earth are set infinitely apart. If we wish to see the truth, then hold no opinions for or against anything. To set up what you like against what you dislike is merely the play of the mind. When the deep meaning of things is not understood, the mind’s essential peace is disturbed to no avail. Be serene in the oneness of things, and such erroneous views will disappear by themselves. With a single stroke we are freed from bondage.<br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-56937801915482355902011-12-22T23:00:00.000+01:002013-03-09T04:38:27.524+01:00Yes, It's ChristmasYes, it’s Christmas. Pause, and come home. Look up and see what is there all the time. Appreciate and value what is worth valuing. Know that what is right and good is not far away. Wait a second before being disappointed; sense the magnificence that hovers over each moment.<br />
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A year has passed, what was in it? No regrets, no worries. Present wherever we are, we look one another right in the eye and see what is before us without cloud. Simplicity and humility are sustained—no gross materialism can enter here. <br />
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Visits...arranged. Chocolates...consumed. Friendships...deepened. Family...treasured. Love…evoked. <br />
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Knowing what is most beautiful, we are not distracted. We bring kindness where kindness has long been absent. We understand without confusion what this day is meant to teach. We unfold into a world that includes all beings within it. We move effortlessly into a boundless benefit that has no reason.<br />
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Preach the gospel always; if necessary, use words.<br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-49385109858033890762011-12-09T05:46:00.001+01:002013-03-09T04:39:29.074+01:00Memory SticksHow fun it is to play with language and to see all the subtleties that can be discovered if we just pay a little bit of attention. We are so accustomed to viewing things from only one angle, but if we are able to come at things in a slightly different way, no telling how many diverse meanings can be found!<br />
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The other day I went out to the store to buy a memory stick for my computer, and while I was standing there looking at the advertising display, I had one of those odd little insights that comes now and again from out of the blue.<br />
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I have long known “memory sticks” to be data storage devices, but for some reason, in a moment of deflected attention, I saw the phrase in a completely new way. It was such a sudden and unexpected twist on a common phrase that I had to smile to myself. In that moment “memory stick” did not refer to data storage but to how our memory stays with us. We have a thought or experience, we then remember it as part of the flow of our lives, and then <i>the memory sticks</i>—-it stays with us and is held by the mind. <br />
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At one level, yes of course, it is great that we have this ability that is so painfully lacking in people with dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. We can remember what occurred when we went to the store to buy the memory stick because the memory stuck, and we can remember many of the experiences we have had over the course of our lives because those memories stuck as well. <br />
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We have these memories that remain in our minds, and that is all well and good, but then usually something less useful happens: we apply judgments to those memories. We call some good and some bad and others are judged to be merely neutral.<br />
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From these judgments we often derive conclusions about ourselves and our overall experience: “Oh, yeah, so many of my relationships have failed. So, the next one should fail too. I have messed up so badly so many times; I am just a person who messes up,” or, “I have undergone so much, and I know that life is sad and unfair,” or conversely “That was so great for me, and it needs to happen again or something is wrong.” You get the picture: a past memory can be stuck in us so firmly that it shapes and influences our present experience. Now, surely that is one disadvantage of memory sticking. <br />
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But there is another way. What if we let the data flow on by without grabbing it or categorizing it? What a different life we would have: we would still have the gift of memory, but it would not be a held memory that clouds the perspective. From a vantage of childlike wonder we would see everything without prejudice and with wide open eyes. We would be free in a most fundamental way, because each moment of life would be filled with effortlessness and ease. Our intentions and actions would be unbiased and our way forward undistracted.<br />
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I am so very honored to be able to say that I have met people who demonstrate this choice. I know for sure that what I have described is not merely theoretical but is the actual lived expression of amazing people.<br />
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For all intents and purposes, these people look the same as the rest of us; they dress like us, speak like us and have normal human experiences like us, but what sets them apart is the choice that they make. It is a simple choice, one that all of us can make: to not get stuck in memories or anywhere else. Because of their clarity and simplicity, they may actually have prodigious powers of recall and can remember specific details of events long past, but they are not bound by any of it.<br />
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I know from my own experience what a joy it is to be in the presence of someone in whom memory is not stuck. Each moment is rich and profound for them, unfettered by confusion. When they see anyone or anything, they see only the shining essence. They are totally present and fully engaged with life in all its many manifestations. They bathe in a love that is ever present, and they willingly share that love with all the world. They are not distracted by any of the labels conjured up by memory. When they speak, it is with an authority that no position could provide.<br />
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Now, while I have described a type of person that is not yet often seen in the world, the freedom of choice to not be stuck in memory is available to all of us, with none excluded, and more and more it WILL be the choice that is made. For short moments, many times, over and over again, we can rely on our own native intelligence, acquiring experiences and memories as we move through life, but not allowing ourselves to be limited by any of them.<br />
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In this way, that memory stick in our pocket can carry a reminder of a way of life that will take us beyond memory. <br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-50317184860453569712011-11-16T00:49:00.001+01:002013-03-09T04:40:15.699+01:00ContentmentThis past weekend I was visiting with my sister and her family, and not only did I have the opportunity to spend time with beloved family members, but then I was given another—unexpected—gift…<br />
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My sister teaches a Sunday School class for young people, and as she was preparing for her next day’s lesson, she came to me with a question: “I want to speak to them about contentment, but I don’t know exactly how to explain what that means. How do you tell them about something that is probably only a vague notion for them?”<br />
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I was intrigued by this question, and I went off on my own to consider it for a while. I thought, “Well, “contentment” is quite a profound concept, and maybe a lot of adults don’t fully understand what it means. How does one put it into plain language so that even a child could comprehend it?” <br />
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I could see the possible context for dealing with this issue: these young people live in a materialistic culture with pressure from all sides to acquire more and more stuff, and reminders of contentment are few and far between. I also knew that deep discussions about contentment would probably not be going on in most households, and that it is the tendency of people—of all ages—to be more focused on what they don’t have as opposed to what they innately possess.<br />
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Normally when we hear the word “contentment,” we turn our attention to the things that are meant to bring contentment. These things are different for different people, but the list might start with an attractive and loving romantic partner, a beautiful home, satisfaction of desires, abundance, safety, security, material comfort, respect and acclaim. But the more I pondered my sister’s question, the more it became clear to me that there was evidence of contentment all around, but that it often went unrecognized because it did not necessarily have to do with any of those things.<br />
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I happen to know many people who have hardly any of the things that I have listed, who nevertheless have the obvious presence of contentment in their lives. What is it these people “have” that contents them, even if their contentment wasn’t in the having of anything?<br />
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What I see in these wonderful people is a vast openness to all experience, an enormous capacity for letting things be as they are. They are active, engaged, energetic, intelligent, skilled, joyous and serviceful, but at the same time they reside in a place of complete rest. The constant barrage of thoughts, emotions, sensations and experiences seems to be going on the same for them as for anyone else, but they are not carried away by the flow. Their attention is not on themselves and all of their personal concerns; rather, they maintain a profound interest in a place of great depth and peace that includes everyone and everything.<br />
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The key ingredient to this contentment seems to be the recognition of a place in themselves that has no place—an unchanging essence, a natural state, awareness, clarity, open intelligence, a place of peace—call it by whatever name. There is in them a moment by moment choice to return to that place of peace over and over, for short moments, again and again.<br />
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When distractions occur—and even if the distractions continue for a while—the choice is eventually made to return to that place of peace. They sustain themselves with reminders so that the choice is not obscured: they seek out community with this as the basis, they commit themselves to reaching out for support when needed and they refresh the commitment by reading, listening to and investigating unerring teachings that speak unwaveringly about what is true.<br />
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So, in the end, what would I want to tell those young people in the Sunday School class? I would want to stand before them and be able to say with the utmost confidence, “Dear ones, you have nothing to fear. Everything you need, you have. Naturally occurring wisdom and well-being that will never leave you come from acknowledging the truth within yourselves, for short moments, many times, until the acknowledgement becomes spontaneous and continuous.” <br />
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So, this was the gift I received: knowing that this is so for myself, knowing that it is true for others, and knowing that this simple truth can be communicated clearly and easily. This gift, this contentment, is our greatest possession. <br />
Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-13870906620580418022011-10-19T11:49:00.000+02:002013-03-09T04:41:04.740+01:00The Teacher, Sometimes Appearing in the Form of a PersonThere are those rare occasions in our lives when we are simply overwhelmed by something—an inspiring personality, a captivating phrase, song or speech, an insight that catapults us into another level of understanding—and we are lifted out of the merely familiar into an unanticipated realm of great joy, passion and vision. <br />
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This summer, in a retreat in which I was a participant, I was transported beyond my usual way of understanding things by a short quotation in a text that went something like this: “The teacher, sometimes appearing in the form of a person, is pure beneficial energy bestowing empowerment. There is a great treasury of inexhaustible benefit brought to life in the visible form of a teacher. The teacher is completely devoted to the student; the teacher is the ultimate friend, a guide to a realm of treasure which is available to all beings.”<br />
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There are many, many things to be said about this short quote, but I want to focus my attention on this one phrase: “the teacher, sometimes appearing as a person.” There are multitudes of teachings in those seven words. The first thing I can see is that EVERYTHING is a teacher. Every thought, emotion, sensation, experience, every sound, image, touch, taste, sense, every pleasure and every pain is a teacher. <br />
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I just have to repeat this, not just for those of you who are reading this but for me who is writing this: EVERYTHING is a teacher. That one recognition completely and totally changes our relationship to our experience. All of existence is summoning us in each moment. We are entirely flooded with the whole of universal experience in each here-and-now. So, what need is there to “be in the moment” or “be mindful” or “come back to our true self”?<br />
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“The teacher, sometimes appearing as a person” also points us to our own power. We do not need to give up the autonomy of our own experience to some authority figure; there is no powerful person who is going to make things all right for us; there is no guru sitting there who holds the knowledge and power we will never possess. Being as we are an integral part of this “everything,” we are ourselves the teacher sometimes appearing as a person.<br />
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Yet, at the same time, I do not want to forget the great gift of a visible teacher who appears, one who is the ultimate guide and friend, a person whose sole interest is our greatest benefit. The devotion that comes from such a relationship is unimaginably beautiful. There is only the purest of motivation for both teacher and student, and from that purity the greatest benevolence flows. How glorious it is to contemplate the possibility of “a treasury of inexhaustible benefit brought to life.” Wow, count me in! A friendship filled with devotion and care and service to all—where do I sign up! <br />
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And finally, what a joy to consider the boon that is this moment, right now. All the instruction that is needed is being provided, right now. This one recognition is life-transforming. The universal intelligence that fills every bit of space is ever available and accessible. We just open our eyes.Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-35199290302569531762011-09-26T07:25:00.000+02:002013-03-09T04:41:53.932+01:00Drawing Water, Carrying WoodNothing to figure out, nowhere to proceed. No matrix to get out of. No assumptions to be overcome. No past to deal with. No one out there to blame. No interference from anywhere. No standards, no expectations, no hopes. Nothing to fear or avoid. No conclusions to make. Drawing water, carrying wood…the realm of the everyday; drawing water, carrying wood…the recognition of vast open intelligence; drawing water, carrying wood—the full expression of pure being, hidden amidst the commonplace. Wandering in the unknown without notion or goal, with no need to ask for directions, arrivals and departures evaporate. The magician draws back the curtain, smiles and says, “Ta da! Nothing there—had you fooled, didn’t I”? No end in sight. No cause for regret. Wonder is the only response. Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-946825829610115056.post-37857341602738469142011-09-18T17:24:00.000+02:002013-03-09T04:42:39.477+01:00Let Us Linger in the Lairs of Lovers Let us gather together now and whisper enchanting notions to one another—enchanting notions that don’t come from our past or what we have taken ourselves to be, enchanting notions that aren’t from wanting to demonstrate or prove anything, enchanting notions that see no separation. Let us linger in the lairs of lovers and be ambushed by them there. Let them ply us full of their wine until we are satiated, and then let us drink some more. Ah, let us get drunk with this wine so sweet! It is an inebriation that the drunkard cannot know. We will stagger up to the rooftops and call out our invitations and make sure that all the unloved get the first summons to drink. We are so spellbound that our fears and expectations wander off like an untethered dog. We will arise and go now, and go to the abode loud with song, and we will remain there and smile gratefully at our abundance. No night will darken, no enemy intrude, no conflict issue forth. Oh, laughter so delightful, let us have more of it! 10,000 thanks that I should have even once dwelt there, and now it arrives over and over again unasked. May it flow, flow unceasingly that all may drink…. Scott Morrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17919717785924974397noreply@blogger.com0