There is no God.
God is here.
So much depends on what is our surround.
God is here.
So much depends on what is our surround.
As you can see, there is writing on his (lower) right hand. It says "Mam Ekam Saranam Vraja", which is part of a famous verse of the Bhagavad Gita:
sarva-dharmān parityajya mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja ahaṁ tvāṁ sarva-pāpebhyo mokṣayiṣyāmi mā śucaḥ ||
Abandon all varieties of religion and just surrender unto Me. I shall deliver you from all sinful reactions. Do not fear.
Sri Vaishnavas call this verse the Charama Shloka, and it is one of the Rahasya Traya or three secrets of Sri Vaishnavism, because it explains the path to Moksha known as Saranagati or Prapatti, which involves surrendering to the lotus feet of Vishnu. Since Upilliappan has a part of the Charama Shloka written on his right hand, pointed toward his feet indicating to devotees where to surrender, he is known as the lord of Saranagati.
https://hinduism.stackexchange.com/questions/6504/why-does-only-uppiliappan-have-mam-ekam-saranam-vraja-written-on-his-handIf there be gods, there be men who would be as those gods are.
Of course, it is possible that the forces of regressive masculinity will again literalize the symbolic death of the modern in totalitarianism or nuclear war. And it must be acknowledged that many of us–especially the most vulnerable–are currently suffering in a myriad of ways. However, I think it is more likely, given that we have largely integrated the pain of those collective traumas, that this regressive moment will be relatively brief, and we will soon see a progressive wave of compassion, justice, sustainability, and even kindness in reaction to the Trump-Peterson era.
I suspect this regressive movement will be viewedby history as the final death rattle of the older mode of relation, making way for the emergence of a qualitatively novel historical era. As Whitehead writes, “new epochs emerge with comparative suddenness,” and the tragic regression we’re currently enduring may ultimately be understood as the factor that finally propelled us into a novel mode of relation.
(Grant Maxwell is the author of The Dynamics of Transformation: Tracing an Emerging World View and How Does It Feel?: Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Bob Dylan, and the Philosophy of Rock and Roll. He is an editor at Persistent Press and the Archai journal, and he lives in Nashville with his wife and two sons.)(—in, Why Are So Many Young Men Drawn to Jordan Peterson’s Intellectual Misogyny? by Blog Contributor, Grant Maxwell, in Blog of the APA)Real relation.
I cannot live with You
I cannot live with You —
It would be Life —
And Life is over there —
Behind the Shelf
The Sexton keeps the Key to —
Putting up
Our Life — His Porcelain —
Like a Cup —
Discarded of the Housewife —
Quaint — or Broke —
A newer Sevres pleases —
Old Ones crack —
I could not die — with You —
For One must wait
To shut the Other's Gaze down —
You — could not —
And I — Could I stand by
And see You — freeze —
Without my Right of Frost —
Death's privilege?
Nor could I rise — with You —
Because Your Face
Would put out Jesus' —
That New Grace
Glow plain — and foreign
On my homesick Eye —
Except that You than He
Shone closer by —
They'd judge Us — How —
For You — served Heaven — You know,
Or sought to —
I could not —
Because You saturated Sight —
And I had no more Eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise
And were You lost, I would be —
Though My Name
Rang loudest
On the Heavenly fame —
And were You — saved —
And I — condemned to be
Where You were not —
That self — were Hell to Me —
So We must meet apart —
You there — I — here —
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are — and Prayer —
And that White Sustenance —
Despair —
(Poem by Emily Dickenson)