Monday, September 27, 2010

Sunday, September 26, 2010

what's on your bookshelf?

my camera is still such a novelty that i will take photos of damn near anything. not that all the pictures are good, but they're in focus and the colors are pretty!
yesterday the light in the afternoon was falling onto one of my bookcases, so i snapped away.

then i wondered-what's on your bookshelf?

don't we all check out the books in someone's home? don't our visitors do the same?

this is by no means a complete cross section of my books. perhaps i'll do more later, if the light cooperates. there are 2 more bookcases. then there are the books stacked around the house...












Sunday, September 19, 2010

hollowed out



if we feel lonely, then it is only because we are forgetting how we are immersed in Tao. that is why loneliness can be an opportunity: it reminds us that we are dwelling on our own egotistic identity rather than on the support of the Tao.
--365 tao, day 262



Thursday, September 16, 2010

see what is




holding onto beliefs limits our experience of life. that doesn't mean that beliefs or opinions or ideas are a problem. it's the stubborn attitude of having to have things be a particular way, grasping onto our beliefs and opinions, that causes the problems. using your belief system this way creates a situation in which you choose to be blind instead of being able to see, to be deaf instead of being able to hear, to be dead rather than alive, asleep rather than awake.


as people who want to live a good, full, unrestricted, adventurous, real kind of life, there is concrete instruction we can follow: see what is. when you catch yourself grasping at beliefs or thoughts, just see what is. without calling your belief right or wrong, acknowledge it. see it clearly without judgment and let it go. come back to the present moment. from now until the moment of your death, you could do this.

--comfortable with uncertainty
pema chodron

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Sunday, September 5, 2010

in the fog


The Breathing

An absolute
patience.
Trees stand
up to their knees in
fog. The fog
slowly flows
uphill.
White
cobwebs, the grass
leaning where deer
have looked for apples.
The woods
from brook to where
the top of the hill looks
over the fog, send up
not one bird.
So absolute, it is
no other than
happiness itself, a breathing
too quiet to hear.

Denise Levertov