Friday, August 18, 2017

Fabric of the Universe

Modern quantum physics suggests that 
uncertainty is woven into 
the fabric of the universe. 
Each of us reflects the 
wholeness of all that is
Can't be certain 
we'll be here tomorrow.  
Statistically, chances are good 
for being correct when saying, 
"See you tomorrow morning." 
That's not absolutely determined. 
So be humble. 
Nothing is certain - 
not even death and taxes.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Breath of Life

A long time ago, I killed a mouse in the kitchen by dropping it into a bucket of water. Thinking that would drown him. But it kept swimming back up to the surface. The mouse eventually drowned. At the moment of death a white mist came out of its mouth into the water. That was the mouse’s last breath - as if “seeing” his life spirit leave the body. One of the most memorable experiences in my life. 

Sunday, August 13, 2017


We can create many models of the human experience. 
Here's a model based on three concepts:
body, mind, and spirit. Here presented in the form of a Venn diagram*.

Monday, August 07, 2017

Everything and Nothing

Where do we start counting? Is it at number one? Not really. It starts at nothing; i.e. zero. The number zero is between the positive and negative numbers on the number line. This is quite beautiful. Zero is neither negative or positive. Most people usually begin with the number “one” - they also don’t think of negative or positive numbers. Zero and negative numbers had to be in invented to deal with the mathematical mapping of our daily reality.  So, we start with nothing and move on to more or less than nothing.

Everything has a beginning within imagination. Something may happen. Energy changes forms, shapes and states. Energy can be everything and nothing. Out of a mysterious void something emerges. Here and now we are!  Amazing, amazing. The way up and the way down are the same. To have a beginning implies that there will be an end. Today, begin by being here now!

Tuesday, August 01, 2017

Sometimes in the middle of the night

     in the middle of the night  
     or in the daytime   
     when all is quiet   
     including the mind  
     a glimpse of immortality  
     between in breath and out breath   
     between thought and vision  

Fields of light and love  
     endless, deep, safe, eternal 

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Encased in Technologies

We're encased in technologies of our own making.  I knew a man who took his satellite dish and television on camping trips. 

It's the "age of technology".  We're encased in technologies of our own making.  If you are reading these notes, you're already embedded in a world of technological objects - some of which may even be embedded in you.   Two or three hundred years ago you'd likely be living on a farm or small village. In a short walk, you'd be out in "nature". Now we use transportation machines to get "out" to nature.  So, we drive (not walk) out to the country or the woods.  The automobile may be there near the camp site.  I knew one man who took his satellite dish and television on camping trips.  

Nature has always been a problem to overcome - so as to make ourselves more safe and comfortable.  Because of our soft-wired brains, we keep inventing and transmitting new ways to make life more comfortable and safe.  We use one device after another (i.e., telephones, cell phones, cars, elevators, etc.) We’re embedded in an ocean of devices of our own making.  The quest for the perfect life via technology is an ever receding horizon. 

Holo Sutra © by Americ Azevedo,  2014.05.04 (final unedited draft)  Page 54

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Walt Whitman - "Go Directly to the Creation"

Wonderful lines from Walt Whitman's preface to his 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass

This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body. . . . The poet shall not spend his time in unneeded work. He shall know that the ground is always ready ploughed and manured. . . . others may not know it but he shall. He shall go directly to the creation.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Buffalo Dusk

Buffalo Dusk 

The buffaloes are gone.
And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
Those who saw the buffaloes by thousands and how they pawed the prairie sod into dust with their hoofs, their great heads down pawing on in a great pageant of dusk,
Those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
And the buffaloes are gone.
Source: The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg (Harcourt Brace Iovanovich Inc., 1970)
As sited by The Poetry Foundation.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Holographic Nature of Reality

Cosmos defines everything including the indefinable. Music of the spheres plays on and on. Every point of space is packed with an image of the entire cosmos. That's the holographic nature of reality. We contain the entire cosmos within us, but always looking outwardly for the answers. Now look and listen within.

Monday, July 17, 2017

The Inbetween

I have heard and read that Tibetan Buddhists believe that upon death the body’s spirit goes to an in-between state called the bardo. This is a period after death when consciousness is disconnected from the body. The soul’s disembodied state while awaiting rebirth. It is a time of potentially frightening visions. Eventually the spirit or consciousness finds a body to enter - rebirth occurs. A new incarnation that may reflect the development and lessons learned in previous lifetimes.
   Even within our current embodied lives we experience mini-bardo states such as being between jobs, between morning and afternoon, between life partners, between home and workplace, etc.
   These in-between places give us deep insights into reality.

Friday, July 14, 2017

Street Deer

Saw this deer (and its shadow) walking the street.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Teaching Engineering Ethics

I was the instructor for an Engineering Ethics course offered by the Engineering Department at the University of California at Berkeley. The first day of class was a "disaster". No one talked! Miraculously, on the second day everyone engaged in non-stop talk. Some students stayed after class, to continue the dialogue. They where phenomenal. Bright young people with so many great ideas for improving the world. These young people gave me faith in the future.

Why the change in student response. Well, the first day I was "the expert". But on the second day, I treated the students as experts. I wanted to listen to them, rather than myself. That was all the difference in the world. We learned what we needed to learn, but we did it together. I stopped acting like the center, and allowed everyone to be "at center". It worked!

Monday, July 10, 2017

Sunday, July 09, 2017

The Great Way

The Great Way is not difficult
for those who have no preferences.
When love and hate are both absent
everything becomes clear and undisguised.
Make the smallest distinction, however,
and heaven and earth are set infinitely apart.

If you wish to see the truth
then hold no opinions for or against anything.
To set up what you like against what you dislike
is the disease of the mind. 

When the deep meaning of things is not understood, 
the mind's essential peace is disturbed to no avail. 

The Way is perfect like vast space
where nothing is lacking and nothing in excess.
Indeed, it is due to our choosing to accept or reject
that we do not see the true nature of things.

Live neither in the entanglements of outer things,
nor in inner feelings of emptiness.
Be serene in the oneness of things and such 
erroneous views will disappear by themselves.

                                                     Opening passages from
                                                     The Third Patriarch of Zen
                                                     Hsin Hsin Ming by Seng-T'san

Thursday, July 06, 2017

Embrace Life

Start your day in wonder
be like a child again
embrace life

Thursday, June 29, 2017

I'm excited about who I really am!

I'm excited about who I really am!
     No, I didn't just find out
     I am Bill Gate's daughter,
     or win a prize,
     or graduate with honors;
It's much more subtle than that.

I found out, well,
there are no words to express it.

I found out I am happiness
     through and through,
     except when I forget it.
I found out I can love
     more and more
          and more and more
                     and more.

Yes, there are no words;
     and I am eternally grateful:
     Grateful that I,
     Grateful that I am that I am,
     Grateful I am that,
Grateful I am God's Love Shining.

                   ~ Diane Shavelson

Friday, June 23, 2017

Today's Today

Often we forget that today is here.
We pass from day to day not noticing
that it is today.
Never again will it be "today's today". 

Thursday, June 22, 2017

Always Remember

who you
... wait
for "instructions."

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Ocean of Faith

Live in Direct Relationship to Reality

Turn away from
books, ideas, and theories. 
Enlightenment can only be realized
by living in direct relationship to reality.
Books, ideas, and theories 
don't go deep enough.

Monday, June 12, 2017

Choose Life

LIFE is the deepest mystery. No one gets to the bottom of life. We live day by day, breath by breath. Philosophy, medicine, biology, and “rocket science” may all give us insights. The unfolding life mystery delights my soul. I love unsolvable, unanswerable questions. All I know is that with each breath we choose life.

Saturday, June 10, 2017

Tuesday, June 06, 2017

Robert Frost - Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.   
His house is in the village though;   
He will not see me stopping here   
To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near   
Between the woods and frozen lake   
The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   
To ask if there is some mistake.   
The only other sound’s the sweep   
Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Eternity’s Carpet

Time …
always lost
moment to moment
facing past
turning into
no time
hold on,
no way
step into
gliding on eternity’s carpet


Saturday, May 20, 2017

The Cloud - by Shelley

The Cloud

Related Poem Content Details

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, 
From the seas and the streams; 
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid 
In their noonday dreams. 
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken 
The sweet buds every one, 
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, 
As she dances about the sun. 
I wield the flail of the lashing hail, 
And whiten the green plains under, 
And then again I dissolve it in rain, 
And laugh as I pass in thunder. 

I sift the snow on the mountains below, 
And their great pines groan aghast; 
And all the night 'tis my pillow white, 
While I sleep in the arms of the blast. 
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers, 
Lightning my pilot sits; 
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, 
It struggles and howls at fits; 
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, 
This pilot is guiding me, 
Lured by the love of the genii that move 
In the depths of the purple sea; 
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, 
Over the lakes and the plains, 
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, 
The Spirit he loves remains; 
And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile, 
Whilst he is dissolving in rains. 

The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes, 
And his burning plumes outspread, 
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, 
When the morning star shines dead; 
As on the jag of a mountain crag, 
Which an earthquake rocks and swings, 
An eagle alit one moment may sit 
In the light of its golden wings. 
And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, 
Its ardours of rest and of love, 
And the crimson pall of eve may fall 
From the depth of Heaven above, 
With wings folded I rest, on mine aëry nest, 
As still as a brooding dove. 

That orbèd maiden with white fire laden, 
Whom mortals call the Moon, 
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, 
By the midnight breezes strewn; 
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, 
Which only the angels hear, 
May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, 
The stars peep behind her and peer; 
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, 
Like a swarm of golden bees, 
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, 
Till calm the rivers, lakes, and seas, 
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, 
Are each paved with the moon and these. 

I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone, 
And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl; 
The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, 
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl. 
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, 
Over a torrent sea, 
Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof, 
The mountains its columns be. 
The triumphal arch through which I march 
With hurricane, fire, and snow, 
When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair, 
Is the million-coloured bow; 
The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, 
While the moist Earth was laughing below. 

I am the daughter of Earth and Water, 
And the nursling of the Sky; 
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; 
I change, but I cannot die. 
For after the rain when with never a stain 
The pavilion of Heaven is bare, 
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams 
Build up the blue dome of air, 
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, 
And out of the caverns of rain, 
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, 
I arise and unbuild it again. 

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Glenn Matson Remembered

I knew Glenn Matson for 40 years. He was my best friend. Recently found this photograph taken at Peet's Coffee near Lake Shore in Oakland, California. We maintained contact everyday by phone; even during his yearly travels across the country from California to his summer home base in Minnesota. He was a man of few words, but deep spirituality. Many people where influenced by him. He passed away last year on January 8th, 2017. He was in his eighty's  Still saying goodbye. 

Monday, April 24, 2017

Life Is A Mystery To Be Lived

Life is a mystery to be lived. 
Day by day, the task is to 
stay awake to this present moment. 
Be quiet inside - and notice 
the "sound of stillness". 
Be at peace.  
Now, now, now ...

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Vast Unknown

Most of life is spent discovering where we are. It’s not easy - parents try to tell us, but we don’t listen. Of course we are is always “here” in this vast universe of details and mystery.

Years pass, our focus changes. When we were a babies, the focus is mother. Later the focus begins to slowly shift to wisdom in preparation for our demise. When young we are building up our life story; when old, letting go. We prepare for the end of the story. Many poor souls continue to hold onto to youth as hair grows gray and muscles weaken. Nature will take us back to the earth. Dust to dust.

Life is mystery presenting the “unknown” to us.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

The Second Coming

The Second Coming
by William Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre   
The falcon cannot hear the falconer; 
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; 
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, 
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   
The ceremony of innocence is drowned; 
The best lack all conviction, while the worst   
Are full of passionate intensity. 

Surely some revelation is at hand; 
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.   
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out   
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi 
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.   
The darkness drops again; but now I know   
That twenty centuries of stony sleep 
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,   
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? 

Source: The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats (1989)

Friday, March 03, 2017

turning around

turning around the
world so easy babbling
free in time's eternity
moving here and there
singing of places long gone 

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Thursday, February 16, 2017

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

The Great Charlie Chaplin

The speech from his movie The Great Dictator hit me like a truck. The relevance is amazing and eerie.
This is the link to watch it!
Click on it and be moved by the words and the music. The passion.