...EXCEPT THE FACTS.
The practice of chanting can lift and clarify, increase light and lighten matter, illuminate and vibrate.
At some point during the hour long repetitions of a forty verse Sanskrit hymn of praise, a memory popped into my head--and immediately became visceral--a whole body memory of being at Ananda ashram on a Spring morning over a decade ago.
(Ma Bhaskarananda waving from the cabin I was given one summer)
(Ma Bhaskarananda waving from the cabin I was given one summer)
I had been occupying the little one-room cabin on a slope of green, and tumbled out of bed one day to wander into the woody places where I came upon a vision--so many, many clumps of yellow in between the green like streams of sunlight running through the ground--it was a materialization of the well known "host of golden daffodils." Someone, sometime had planted naturalizing bulbs, which did what all naturalizing bulbs do given optimal conditions--they spread! It was glorious then and glorious again last night.
(Where we chanted)
I got a ride all the way home.
~v~
Quite enough for Tuesday
~*~
Here it is Wednesday evening
~!~
"Look and you will find it--what is unsought will go undetected."
-Sophocles-
4 comments:
look and you will find it
look and you will find it... mindfulness... living mindfully... dancing with the changes... embracing the uncertainty... & always keepin' in mind that you never know what's 'round the next corner ahe? I used to go to fortune tellers wondering what this life would bring and how I could ever find a way through these days I just try to enjoy each day and whatever it brings...
R.Nemo Hill posted this exquisite poem over on Face book:
All That Is Needed
For every lean brown cow, a makeshift shack for shelter
made of splintered planks and poles,
crowned with dented, rusted tin.
For every bamboo leaf, at dawn, one bead of dew,
crystal clear, and empty--open
like a lens to let light in.
For every petal floating on the surface of the pool,
shadows trembling on smooth stones
underneath still water’s skin.
And for each wretch who falters, and falls beside the road,
an hour of sleep, and dreams--no matter
what he’s done, or where he’s been,
no matter where he says he goes,
or what on earth he thinks he knows.
The power of voice presence but also memory. And poetry. Those last two verses above so lift me. Suggesting that there is hope and salvation for each and every one of us.
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