My skittering mind caught onto one word in your footnotes and I remembered this little daftness that I conjured many years ago (intended to go on a T-shirt): Dukkha ain't pukka; metta is betta. I'll get me coat...
Respect and caution for all earthly creatures - 'adder' we call the local viper on the path soaking up the spring sunshine - but I have not understood the confusion between the 'dragons' of China and the 'serpents' we inherited. I have just turned to the chapter 'The Quest for the Pearl', in a book by Jeremy Naydler, one that I go on about elsewhere. Naydler retells the story or 'hymn' from ancient Persia of the pearl guarded by the giant serpent in the foreign city. A serpent with power over your mind. Pearls need a lot of finding. In the story the trick is to remember where you are from, and why you are here.
Folk memory and antiquarian clergymen round us have told of a mix of local Great Worms and Dragons, in some confusion. I had the fortune at one time though to be introduced to an embodiment on a sinuous hill, where, too long ago to know when pilgrims had built it, there is a hollow cairn where the heart, heart as in healing might be. Its a story I might get round to telling someday.
Silence is important enough; tinnitus a sore trial. That and/or deafness, stories for later.
Thank you so much. Many paragraphs and sentences jumped out at me, but especially this:
“Wisdom is in the mind and the body, and can be accessed via joy, via pain, via any long slow apprehension of the real. Via immersion in the sea, in family, long companionship, in duty, well executed. Wherever we are not in control. Wisdom gleaned via reading must be metabolised and enacted, otherwise it is only half-baked. Like unfired clay, it will be prone to disintegrate when tasked with containing something hot.”
I relate to the whole idea of coming closer as I work with students who can be challenging. The difficulty is slowly transformed by relationship. As this happens the difficulty doesn’t go away, but it becomes something to work with. I could not tell you exactly how this happens: there is no formula and it can’t be taken for granted. It is always more powerful when it is a shared experience. Sometimes it happens that I have to fight for someone, like the song goes “use my heart like a fist, till it’s black and blue.” But this is temporary until community is created around the individual.
Caro, I'm glad to hear about your book draft. I keep thinking of things I'll be blessed to show you here should that day be granted us. Thank you for doing your thing, ongoingly. Adam
So many pearls, nestled in stillness within the moving flow of your words.
You are an exceptional writer and teacher.
Everything you said seems to match just what was on my mind, thanks for making it so much clearer to me.
My skittering mind caught onto one word in your footnotes and I remembered this little daftness that I conjured many years ago (intended to go on a T-shirt): Dukkha ain't pukka; metta is betta. I'll get me coat...
Respect and caution for all earthly creatures - 'adder' we call the local viper on the path soaking up the spring sunshine - but I have not understood the confusion between the 'dragons' of China and the 'serpents' we inherited. I have just turned to the chapter 'The Quest for the Pearl', in a book by Jeremy Naydler, one that I go on about elsewhere. Naydler retells the story or 'hymn' from ancient Persia of the pearl guarded by the giant serpent in the foreign city. A serpent with power over your mind. Pearls need a lot of finding. In the story the trick is to remember where you are from, and why you are here.
Folk memory and antiquarian clergymen round us have told of a mix of local Great Worms and Dragons, in some confusion. I had the fortune at one time though to be introduced to an embodiment on a sinuous hill, where, too long ago to know when pilgrims had built it, there is a hollow cairn where the heart, heart as in healing might be. Its a story I might get round to telling someday.
Silence is important enough; tinnitus a sore trial. That and/or deafness, stories for later.
Thank you so much. Many paragraphs and sentences jumped out at me, but especially this:
“Wisdom is in the mind and the body, and can be accessed via joy, via pain, via any long slow apprehension of the real. Via immersion in the sea, in family, long companionship, in duty, well executed. Wherever we are not in control. Wisdom gleaned via reading must be metabolised and enacted, otherwise it is only half-baked. Like unfired clay, it will be prone to disintegrate when tasked with containing something hot.”
I relate to the whole idea of coming closer as I work with students who can be challenging. The difficulty is slowly transformed by relationship. As this happens the difficulty doesn’t go away, but it becomes something to work with. I could not tell you exactly how this happens: there is no formula and it can’t be taken for granted. It is always more powerful when it is a shared experience. Sometimes it happens that I have to fight for someone, like the song goes “use my heart like a fist, till it’s black and blue.” But this is temporary until community is created around the individual.
I love that green!
I do too. It says terre verte, but I am going to do some granulation tests as it seems somewhat too blue and high-tinting to be true Bohemian green.
Caro, I'm glad to hear about your book draft. I keep thinking of things I'll be blessed to show you here should that day be granted us. Thank you for doing your thing, ongoingly. Adam