> Date: Tue, 1 Jan 2008 00:40:06 -0500
> To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
> From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
> Subject: Re: [MD] Mind-body practice
>
> At 11:46 PM 12/31/2007, you wrote:
>
>
>
>
>>"Action is thy duty, reward not thy concern." (Bhagavad Gita)
>>
>>
>>> Date: Mon, 31 Dec 2007 02:52:39 -0500
>>> To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>> From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>> Subject: Re: [MD] Mind-body practice
>>>
>>> At 12:20 AM 12/31/2007, you wrote:
>>>
>>>>Hello everyone
>>>>
>>>>> Date: Sun, 30 Dec 2007 02:53:33 -0500
>>>>> To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>>>> From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>>>> Subject: Re: [MD] Mind-body practice
>>>>>
>>>>> At 01:46 AM 12/30/2007, you wrote:
>>>>>
>>>>>>Hello everyone
>>>>>>
>>>>>>
>>>>>>> Date: Wed, 26 Dec 2007 15:02:53 -0500
>>>>>>> To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>>>>>> From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>>>>>> Subject: Re: [MD] Mind-body practice
>>>>>>>
>>>>>>> At 01:58 PM 12/26/2007, you wrote:
>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>Hello everyone
>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>> Date: Wed, 26 Dec 2007 02:29:31 -0500
>>>>>>>>> To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>>>>>>>> From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>>>>>>>> Subject: Re: [MD] Mind-body practice
>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>> At 06:36 AM 12/25/2007, Krimel wrote:
>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>[Krimel]
>>>>>>>>>>I engage in a daily practice of reading, listening, study,
>> meditation,
>>>>>>>>>>discussion and writing on concepts that make-up the associationistic
>>>>>>>>>>patterns of my thoughts. I probe these patterns for error and
>>>>>> look for new
>>>>>>>>>>concepts and new ways to incorporate new concepts into this
>>>>>>>> network of ideas
>>>>>>>>>>and associations.
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>I rejoice in the mystical sensations of new ideas shaking the
>>>> network and
>>>>>>>>>>creating Gestalt shifts in my perception. I am rewarded when
>>>> new thoughts
>>>>>>>>>>and associations occur to me and when new fractal patterns
>>>>>> emerge from the
>>>>>>>>>>effort. I observe the illusions of the moment in light of the
>>>>>> illusions of
>>>>>>>>>>the past and wait in awe for the shifting illusions of the future.
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>I expand my consciousness (whatever that is) by bringing in
>>>> new ideas and
>>>>>>>>>>testing old ones. I reflect on film, art, music and new
>>>>>> narrative concepts
>>>>>>>>>>that employ fiction to augment facets in the structure of
>> my thoughts.
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>I seek harmony in the thoughts of others and marvel at the
>>>>>> infinite variety
>>>>>>>>>>of perception and processing available to the human spirit.
>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>> Greetings,
>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>> I've been thinking about what Krimel wrote here. I like to play this
>>>>>>>>> game. I thought this description really quite beautiful. It can't
>>>>>>>>> be taken seriously though, it is play, it is Lila. But this game
>>>>>>>>> also seems contrary to all the literature on the Tao, Buddhism,
>>>>>>>>> etc. Maybe I'm missing something, but that seems silly. How can
>>>>>>>>> anything be excluded?
>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>> Anybody have any thoughts?
>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>Hi Marsha
>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>I agree it's intellectually appealing to learn new ideas and to fill
>>>>>>>>our days chasing empty concepts. I think the MOQ says that that
>>>>>>>>takes us away from Dynamic Quality, however. It doesn't bring us
>>>>>>>>closer. Perhaps that is what the literature on the Tao and Buddhism
>>>>>>>>is telling you.
>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>Thanks,
>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>Dan
>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>
>>>>>>> Dan,
>>>>>>>
>>>>>>> Perhaps if this is what one did all day long, every day. Or if one
>>>>>>> mistook their thoughts and ideas for the truth.
>>>>>>>But what if you think like Tim Robbins, "I believe in nothing,
>>>>>> everything is sacred,
>>>>>>> I believe in everything, nothing is sacred." Then isn't thinking,
>>>>>>> with nonattachment, the same as a cloud, or tree, or flowing
>>>>>>> river?
>>>>>>>This is a serious question. It's hard for me to believe
>>>>>>> that this particular aspect of nature should be negated. Isn't it
>>>>>>> attachment that causes suffering and illusion?
>>>>>>
>>>>>>Hi Marsha
>>>>>>
>>>>>>I've heard it said that ignorance of the nature of all living beings
>>>>>>as well as the nature of inanimate things gives rise to suffering.
>>>>>>This ignorance is the notion that all exists in and of itself,
>>>>>>separate and apart from all else. Is that what you mean by attachment?
>>>>>>
>>>>>>Thank you,
>>>>>>
>>>>>>Dan
>>>>>
>>>>> Greetings,
>>>>>
>>>>> No, that's not exactly what I mean, but that would also seem to cause
>>>>> suffering. I was considering more the transitory nature of
>>>>> experience. More like trying to capture a river using a bucket. Or
>>>>> capturing a cloud in a jar. Or capturing rain using a bottle. Or
>>>>> thinking memory has captured experience.
>>>>>
>>>>> Interesting that the painting I'm working with is needing a broken
>>>>> arrow and a bottle of rain. Trying to imagine what kind of bottle
>>>>> this man would use to bring rain has got me baffled. A Budweiser
>>>>> bottle just doesn't seem right.
>>>>
>>>>The Rain Jar
>>>>
>>>>I once knew a man in Arkansas who was building a cordwood house on
>>>>top of a mountain on an old foundation, which was all that remained
>>>>of a prior dwelling. The home was located deep in the woods in a
>>>>pretty little valley reached by driving several miles down old dirt
>>>>logging trails. The locals called it Hippie Hollow as there were
>>>>quite a number of families living there who were practicing
>>>>alternative lifestyles. Now-a-days such goings-on might be tolerated
>>>>but this was back in the middle '70's so the experiment was doomed
>>>>from the start. We of course didn't understand that at the time...
>>>>it is only in retrospect that I understand it now.
>>>>
>>>>Since I didn't have any pressing engagements in those days I found
>>>>was able to spend the summer there helping to build the cordwood
>>>>house. Now I had heretofore never built a cordwood house nor in fact
>>>>had I ever heard of such a creation. But the man assured me once
>>>>complete the house would last a thousand years or more. It struck me
>>>>at that time that such an acclomplishment had real value and so
>>>>without hope of recompense I spent several months laboring away deep
>>>>in an Arkansas forest building a dwelling that would last a thousand
>>>>years. We spend the days cutting cordwood and the nights reading ZMM
>>>>by the campfire and discussing Quality.
>>>>
>>>>I might have neglected until now to mention that the man of whom I
>>>>speak didn't have two nickels to rub together. Since the local
>>>>well-driller charged several thousand dollars to drill a well this
>>>>man instead gathered a large clump of red Arkansas creek clay (the
>>>>same red clay we used to fashion mortar for the cordwood house) and
>>>>shaped it into a large jar in which to store rain water. He called
>>>>the vessel his rain jar. Once he had shaped the rain jar the man
>>>>built a kiln out of fallen branches in which to bake his creation.
>>>>Everyone told him it wouldn't work but he did it anyway. And it
>>>>worked. I am unsure whether it was dumb luck or sheer genius but I
>>>>suspect the former.
>>>>
>>>>The rain jar was big and red and when it was ready it would hold
>>>>hundrds of gallons of water. The rain jar even had a red clay cover
>>>>to keep the water fresh and pure. However it was completed before
>>>>the cordwood house was done and so there was no roof to act as a
>>>>collector. So the jar just sat there in the woods waiting for the
>>>>day when it would fullfill it's intented use. But one day the
>>>>sheriff showed up and arrested the man who was building the cordwood
>>>>house for growing wacky tobaccy on a southern slope just down the
>>>>way. It wasn't long after that mysterious fires began to plague
>>>>Hippie Hollow and one by one the families started packing up and leaving.
>>>>
>>>>Since it was clear to me by that time that the cordwood house would
>>>>never be completed I packed up my meager belongings and moved on
>>>>down the road myself. Many years later I found myself in the same
>>>>area of Arkansas and out of curiosity I drove down to Hippie Hollow
>>>>to see the old stomping grounds. The old dirt logging trail was now
>>>>a paved road leading to an exclusive subdivision. Driving past the
>>>>expensive homes I happened to spot a familar sight in one of back
>>>>yards. The half-finished cordwood house was covered with steel
>>>>siding and the large red clay rain jar still stood there unused amid
>>>>the trees. I didn't like looking at it. It made me sad somehow. So I
>>>>drove away and never went back.
>>>>
>>>
>>> The Witness Tree
>>>
>>> Although the full moon is not present, it's affects are present. In
>>> the background are two snow-capped mountains in the shape of
>>> breasts. The night sky is a bit turbulent. In the foreground is a
>>> man sitting at the base of a tree whose bare branches reach into the
>>> night. This man is naked and waiting. He is staring into the night,
>>> oblivious to what is above him. In the crux of the tree is a glass
>>> container filled with water. It is in the shape of a half-moon, and
>>> lit the color of the moon. From the side of this container peers a
>>> woman. She is looking in his direction. She seems to sense his
>>> presence, but it is not apparent that she sees him.
>>>
>>
>>A Butterfly Picnic
>>
>>Clumps of small white butterflies with black eyeballs on their wings
>>dance in spiraling circles along the creek. A woman is watching the
>>butterflies play but she isn't seeing them. She sits on a green and
>>white plaid blanket. Along side her a loaf of bread and a bottle of
>>wine poke up out of a brown woven basket. Sunshine tingles over her
>>naked body. A breeze rustles the cattails growing in shallow water
>>beside the creek bank and tickles the grass growing around her
>>blanket. A long unused train trestle runs over the rippling water
>>just a short distance away. Mottled-gray stones at its base are
>>crumbling. A man sits on the trestle on a ledge near the top close
>>by a metal ladder driven into the weathered stone blocks. The woman
>>takes the bread and breaks it, reveling in finding the soft
>>underneath through the crisp crust. She pours the wine. Raising the
>>glass to her lips she looks up to see the man watching her. She
>>starts but quickly remembers that he has always been there. Sh
>> e watches the butterflies play but she isn't seeing them.
>
> Greetings Dan
>
> I hate to intrude on your creativity.
Hi Marsha
And I on yours.
>Is it possible that the woman
> already knows she is woman, and the watching man, and the butterflies?
Yes I think so.
Thank you,
Dan
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