Nothing is a sure thing. No matter what they said, no matter how well the meeting went, no matter how much you rocked it. Until the check clears, or the doors open, or the curtain lifts, you’re actually operating on faith. (And faith is essentially awesome and necessary — but until the check clears …)
right now: There are Tibetan Buddhist monks in a temple in the Himalayas endlessly reciting mantras for the cessation of your suffering and for the flourishing of your happiness. Someone you haven’t met yet is already dreaming of adoring you. Someone is writing a book that you will read in the next two years that
{if you’re viewing this via RSS, click “POP OUT PLAYER” button or the post title above to hear the song. The playlist is not empty, despite how it appears in RSS readers.} If you don’t want throw open the curtains, air drum and whirl like a hot loving dervish when this song hits its peaks…well…then
“There will always be suffering. The trick is to not suffer over the suffering.” – Alan Watts, Zen master One of my best friends and I have a sick tradition. We get excited about each others’ hardship. One of us will be sniffling through an out-pour of angst about how wrenching a particular life lesson
There is a Buddhist saying: h1. As in the beginning, so in the middle, so in the end. …and it’s one of my life compasses. It never fails me and it’s nearly always proven true. Things often continue how they start. The click, the comfort, the clarity … or the lack thereof, is there at
“Well I can’t give you everything you want but I could give you what you thought you need … it’s all for the sake of arriving with you.”
We are the sum total of our experience. And undeniably, it is our past … as well as our essential spirit – that informs our character, whether that past is recent or centuries gone by. The altered state a-ha’s I’ve had about possible past lives, the insights I’ve had on acid in my twenties (except
We crave it. We die for it. We try to pay for it. We aspire, we mire, we miss the mark. In the unending, coiling, incessant pursuit of being right and good enough to find love and get love and give love, we forget about the very nature of love itself. Love gets buried beneath
This most living moment comes when those who love each other meet each other’s eyes and in what flows between them then. To see your face in a crowd of others, or alone on a frightening street, I weep for that. Our tears improve the earth. The time you scolded me, your gratitude, your laughing,
