Gaps Between Thoughts

Guided Meditation
Watching for gaps between thoughts -

a way into meditation. 

Thich Nhat Hanh - Oprah Winfrey

I Wandered Lovely as a Cloud

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

What's the meaning of life? (Michael Nagler, Alexander, & Martin)

Every answer to the question "What is the meaning of life?" is radically different from person to person. This group begins with Michael Nagler who is Professor emeritus of Classics and Comparative Literature at University of California, Berkeley, where he has taught since 1966, and where he founded the Peace and Conflict Studies department. Next is Alexander who is in grade school and is seven and a half years old. Finally, we have Martin who is a Senior at UC Berkeley.

LISTEN to "Meaning of Life - Part 2" (1.18 mb; time 05:11)

Audio production by Lynette Webb. Image from Almeida Cartoons.

Philosopher-At-Large Poster

Gratitude for all the viewers of

Philosopher-at-Large Blog

Image of a paperposter placed on 

local bulletin boards

many years ago

You who where given a life

You who where given a life, 
   what did you make of it?
 Forrest Gander 
 Poetry - December 2017

Rorschach Test

How can you see red and feel blue but be called crazy when you taste green?

Showing up ...

Showing up for our lives is the essence of meditation. No "practice" is needed. Arriving into the here and now. Difficult to face reality; often running away into day dreams and other distractions. Too much work and play to do. What if today is "last day of our life"? Is this the life we wanted? Awe and wonder is in order. Be like little children. Feel the magic of this moment. Now! 

Inner Piece

You cant find it in a box of chocolates. Cant find it in a rose.
Cant find it at a fancy dinner, even in brand new clothes.
You cant find it in a yacht on a trip to rome.
If you find it you cant touch it but you can always bring it home.

You can find it at a funeral. Can find it in a smile.
Can find it in a triathlon runner in his final mile.
You can find it at a wedding and a childs graduation too.
If youve found it then you know it because its always inside of you.

You can find it in those chocolates and in that gorgeous rose!
Its in a shared look at dinner in those spiffy clothes!
Its even in the ocean floating with that yacht to rome!
You can never lose it, for it will always be your home.

Arriving

Cardiogram

It's been so long, I can't remember the sound of your beat. Every time I've caught a glimpse of you and began to feel your welcoming embrace, I've savagely tore away. I wanted to suffer, can't you see? I didn't want to come back and have to look at myself, look at what I had become without you.

I'm tired of running and avoiding my truth, I want to feel your beat again.

Today, I walk into your open arms full of love and forgiveness. I don't want to suffer anymore. I want to be free to live in the light. I will settle into the innocence I've searched for everywhere, everywhere but inside.

There it is.
I know that sound.
I've found our beat again.

If - by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you   

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too;   

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;   

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;   

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,   

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

    If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Turn! Turn! Turn!

Turn! Turn! Turn!

The Byrds

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late

Songwriters: Peter Seeger

Turn! Turn! Turn! lyrics © T.R.O. Inc.

The Living Room Choir

Precious Moments

The current moments of our lives are so precious. I savor every moment of each day as best I can. All too soon - the last moment before Eternity.

                                                     -- Note to a friend on a post card.

Dialogue On Time

Beginner's Mind

Return again and again to where your feet stand; feeling the Earth support you. Return, again and again, to the simple all day long. The present is simple. Running away into the future and past makes it complex. Some people make their spirituality very complex; running through endless hoops in search of enlightenment. Jesus said, “Become as little children again.” Learn to be simple without effort or complexity, constantly surrendered to what is. Our home town, our home base, our own body and mind - it's the best place for developing deep beginner's mind. It’s easy to have "beginner's mind" visiting places with different customs and languages. Mastery, however, is having beginner's mind in our home towns. 

Loneliness

Best Leaders

The best leaders are those who don't need to be leaders, they can gracefully step down when their work is done.  Woe, to those leaders (along with their followers) who can't let go when their work is done – for only revolution can dispose of them.   

He Who Has a Why - poem by Richard Pauloo

he who has a why

to live

can bear

almost any how

were the words of a man

now gone but

his words not

does thought give us a why?

or is it feeling?

or both?

can I  know why

and is my feeling really mine?

they are embers

unpredictable

glowing hot now

though cold

in the morning

what is the I?

can I see it?

not thought

not feeling

but something still

within

two tides collide

the short breath of fear

the long breath of calm

my breath settles me

out of sight

but visible everywhere

out of touch

but touching everything

inaudible

yet it rings like a chorus right now!

without taste

but so flavorful

the last undiscovered spice!

many more senses fail to measure it

many more thoughts are its children

the why to live is

to know oneself

the how to why

is to love

is to listen

is found

where only moving air

resides

    ~~~ Richard Pauloo