| 91062801 |
Socially, politically,
women as a group have tremendous unused leverage: that of mothers. Patriarchs beware, if
they figure our how to use it. |
| 91062802 |
Modern? Post-modern?
Self-inflating nonsense. The 20th century was Baroque II. Re-baroque. How dull. |
| 91070701 |
Any century that starts
with Beethoven and ends with Wilde can’t be all bad. |
| 91070702 |
Any century that starts
with Picasso and ends with Andrew Lloyd-Webber is in serious trouble. |
| 91081901 |
The center which is
everywhere. |
| 91081902 |
Recreate the scene of the
ecstasy. |
| 91090101 |
If you can’t see the
light, the fault is in you, not the light. The light is always there—here—not
there—not here—not not there—not not here. Certain of your reactions to
this— create fog, cataracts, cloud cover. How? Failures to sustain faith, hope,
charity. |
| 91090102 |
First learn
concentration, then meditation. Beyond meditation lies hope realized (for want of a better
word). You gotta shut up the chattering monkeys, that's all. |
| 91090601 |
We now know pretty well
just how bad we can be. Next we learn how good we can be. We’ve had glimpses, some
short, some not so short, but nothing like what’s to come. |
| 91121101 |
We are naive in
unguessed-of ways. Art secondarily imitates nature. Primarily, art restates
nature. The dog howls at the moon. |
| 91122201 |
The playpen is much
bigger than we think. Much bigger than we can think. |
| 91122202 |
Relaxation also means
un-focusing, diffusing the mind’s point-of-attention. |
| 91122203 |
The tree.
The sun.
Not two.
Not one. |
| 92010201 |
The choice is not
nirvana, samadhi, rapture. Those appear to be matters of grace. The choice is: how will I
walk through this day? Gracefully, stumbling, creatively, clumsily, helpfully, stiff? |
| 92010401 |
Choices now: not the
dancer, not the dance. We're all dancers, dancing all the time. The only question is: how. |
| 92010402 |
Meditation creates an
island of serenity to which you can return momently. It doesn’t vanish. And only the
most extreme pain limits access. |
| 92010601 |
The Buddha is still
sitting under the bo-tree. Remember? Remember. The bo-tree is everywhere. |
| 92010701 |
My tree.
My sun.
My two.
My one.
My none. |
| 92010792 |
Winter birds
tickle me.
Sometimes
I come
in the cold fog. |
| 92010801 |
Bilateral meditation: one
visualization for the left hemisphere (my tree), one for the right (my sun). Eventually,
then, a third, centered. |
| 92010802 |
Not the dancer, nor the
stage, nor the audience, nor curtain-time. All incomprehensible (though one has
suspicions). Only the dance. |
| 92010803 |
You can create an island
of serenity in time (through relaxation/meditation) to which you can return by
remembering, in situations of stress. |
| 92011001 |
Breathing is life in more
ways than science knows. |
| 92011002 |
Interference arising from
desire produces catastrophe on catastrophe, as the phenomenon Jesus shows. Nudge only.
Only the gentlest perseverance really furthers. |
| 92011101 |
Grace = Tao. |
