Saturday, February 11, 2017

never

What an odd notion, being born.
The same is true of the big bang or the potential end of the universe. Time doesn’t begin or end in an absolute way. It is a convenient way of using words. Time is simply a concept that fits various physical models. But its origin is as much in metaphysics as in physics. When someone believes he will die and go to Heaven for eternity, the typical, casual definition of “eternity” is a long, long time. But that’s not true, because whatever is eternal must be outside time. Ultimately, the only participation we can have in time, outside time, or with a dimension of inconceivable time, occurs in our consciousness. Whatever we can experience determines the nature of time. It is just as true to say that the big bang is occurring right now as to date it back to 13.8 billion years, because only when we think about the event do we draw the big bang into the world of human experience, and thinking happens in the now.   
None of these conclusions are speculative–quantum physics and cosmology deal with them–and cosmologists and quantum physicists argue over them–every day. Without settling the vexing questions of “What came before the big bang?” “Where did time originate?” and “What is the timeless like?” we only want to point out that time has no meaning outside a specific frame of reference. There is no “real” time, only models of time constructed in human awareness. Once we realize this simple fact, the capacity to move beyond all models, to truly lose our fear of death, come alive. The spiritual concept that we were never born and will never die then becomes viable, too.
(--from, What Came Before the Big Bang? A Surprise Answer, about, Reality is Structured Consciousness, by Depak Chopra and Menas KaFatoshttps://www.scienceandnonduality.com/what-came-before-the-big-bang-a-surprise-answer/
What a curious way of thinking, being dead. 

etymology of “great”

great (adj.) Look up great at Dictionary.com
Old English great "big, tall, thick, stout, massive; coarse," from West Germanic *grautaz "coarse, thick" (source also of Old Saxon grot, Old Frisian grat, Dutch groot, German groß "great"). If the original sense was "coarse," it is perhaps from PIE root *ghreu- "to rub, grind," but "the connextion is not free from difficulty" [OED]. It took over much of the sense of Middle English mickle, and itself now is largely superseded by big and large except in reference to non-material things.

In the sense of "excellent, wonderful" great is attested from 1848. Great White Way "Broadway in New York City" is from 1901, in reference to brilliant street illumination. The Great Lakes of North America so called by 1726, perhaps 1690s. Great Spirit "high deity of the North American Indians," 1703, originally translates Ojibwa kitchi manitou. The Great War originally (1887) referred to the Napoleonic Wars, later (1914) to what we now call World War I (see world).
"The Great War" -- as, until the fall of France, the British continued to call the First World War in order to avoid admitting to themselves that they were now again engaged in a war of the same magnitude. [Arnold Toynbee, "Experiences," 1969]
Also formerly with a verb form, Old English greatian “to become enlarged," Middle English greaten "to become larger, increase, grow; become visibly pregnant," which became archaic after 17c.
The Online Etymology Dictionary
http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=great

good better best; great greater greatest

Student mentioned his name. Had to look up Ken Ham.
From Wikipedia:
Despite scientific evidence and consensus that the Earth is about 4.5 billion years old and the Universe about 13.8 billion years old,[2] Ham believes the age of the Universe to be about 6,000 years.[n 1]  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ken_Ham
From (DL): "I wonder if people created the bible to hold law and order to the land of that time. How would you get people to follow the rule? "
...
We do seem to have a passion for wanting people to do what we think is good for them and us. 
In conversation last night it was pointed out that most autocrats/supreme leaders start off wanting something 'better' for the populace. The people are often unsure what that means -- better? The autocrats (Mao Zedung,  Stalin, Pol Pot, Hitler) decide to impose ‘better' on the people because they know better than the people what better means. What follows is mass murder and mayhem.
This process has been a staple of human history. Even Biblical history is filled with much smiting and smoting and large-scale elimination of 'enemies.'
We’re still trying to decipher exactly what compassion and forgiveness mean. 
We think about it. 
Every day.

Friday, February 10, 2017

something is not right

Russian involvement with DT/45 presidential campaign is receiving serious scrutiny.

Is that what "fake news" failed to see or report?

A fake election?

I don't think this will turn out well.

For anybody.

Thursday, February 09, 2017

worry appears to be justified

In a talk Richard Rohr said it's not a matter of being correct, but how we connect with others.

I've been following the rhetoric and actions of DT/45, the current president of the United States.

He is seldom correct.

And seems intent to disconnect us from each other.

This is a worrisome pattern of reactivity and narcissism.

I notice the level of worry rising gravely among those who think about these things.

The worry appears to be justified.

Prayer, Rohr might say, is living within the presence of God.

It is time for prayer.

Wednesday, February 08, 2017

imitating clowns does not make a circus funny

It's becoming an odder country than we might have imagined.

A parody of itself.

I'm not fond of parodies.

Tuesday, February 07, 2017

on the death of Leonard Lookner

"Better worlds (I suggest) are born, not made; and their birthdays are the birthdays of individuals. Let us pray always for individuals; never for worlds.” 
(e.e.cummings, in nonlecture 2, from “i: six nonlectures” 1953)  http://www.thinkingtogether.org/rcream/archive/Old/S2000/sixnonlecturesrevised.pdf
My prayer is gratitude for Leonard’s acquaintance, and for the better place he made Camden. 

I’ll miss his slanting gait along the roadside.

Monday, February 06, 2017

not a willing


Everytime I leave home I open the door to my home.
Beginning with a basic paradox of the mystical path, expressed by the Zen archer who looks away from the target while releasing the arrow, one of Heidegger's characters remarks about the approach to contemplation: the nature of thinking can be seen only by looking away from thinking. Thus we must turn from our impulse to calculate, looking away into the sky or across the hills of our being, in order to become receptive to the deep nature of thinking beneath its surface function as willing. As the second participant in the dialogue responds: In answer to your question as to what I really wanted from our meditation on the nature of thinking . . . I want non-willing. This non-willing comes into play as we look away from the target. One cannot willfully grasp non-willing but must be released into it. As the third participant in this [7] conversation remarks, You want a non-willing in the sense of a renouncing of willing, so that through this we may release . . . ourselves to the sought-for essence of a thinking that is not a willing. The contemplative thinker does not grasp the essence of thinking but is, rather, released to the essence of thinking. This distinction is not simply wordplay. If we expect to grasp a particular meaning, forcibly extracting the essence of the subject, then we remain on the level of calculative thinking. Even the use of ordinary syntax, a verb and its object, such as I know the essence of thinking, represents a subtle involvement with the mode of willful control. Contemplative thinking, by contrast, is perfect release, which is, fundamentally, release from willing. The contemplative no longer asserts, I know the essence, but reflects, I do not will to know, but await the essence in perpetual not-knowing. Significant cultural and scientific advances have developed from the ambitious willing of human beings to grasp essences and thus control energy, but it will never release us to the nature of contemplation. 
(--from, Coming Home, by Lex Hixon) 
Every time I arrive home I leave my home behind.

No one has to take me in.

I don’t know

what to do.

Sunday, February 05, 2017

as with all games

Touch

Down

And

It's over

it's about time

Something about being in time.

It's not that everything is happening at the same time.

It's that every event in time is present in the same place.

For us to see.

Saturday, February 04, 2017

and failure's no success at all

Once success called out, "hey!
Coming my way?"
I stood on corner, traffic
passing both ways, mute.
By nitefall, cobwebs
Closing ears and eyes,
i fell, into no way...
That I know

Friday, February 03, 2017

it's not a game

We might become human.

But not yet.

It requires intelligence and a good heart.

Without these, we become bigoted and buffoonish cartoon characters.

It seems there's a choice. The smart boys want you to play.

Leave it be.

Don't.

Walk away.

Thursday, February 02, 2017

arriving feeling experiencing thinking exploring

Pre
sent
ing

Day

(Finally, a feast for contemporary mind.)

against injustice, ignorance, and lust,

Ella Wheeler Wilcox died in 1919. Here is a poem of hers still breathing 98 years later:
Protest
To sin by silence, when we should protest,
Makes cowards out of men. The human race
Has climbed on protest. Had no voice been raised
Against injustice, ignorance, and lust,
The inquisition yet would serve the law,
And guillotines decide our least disputes.
The few who dare, must speak and speak again
To right the wrongs of many. Speech, thank God,
No vested power in this great day and land
Can gag or throttle. Press and voice may cry
Loud disapproval of existing ills;
May criticise oppression and condemn
The lawlessness of wealth-protecting laws
That let the children and childbearers toil
To purchase ease for idle millionaires.
Therefore I do protest against the boast
Of independence in this mighty land.
Call no chain strong, which holds one rusted link.
Call no land free, that holds one fettered slave.
Until the manacled slim wrists of babes
Are loosed to toss in childish sport and glee,
Until the mother bears no burden, save
The precious one beneath her heart, until
God’s soil is rescued from the clutch of greed
And given back to labor, let no man
Call this the land of freedom.
(--poem “Protest” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, November 5, 1850–October 30, 1919, quoted in Brain Pickings

Hit

  (three haiku)

1
brown deer disappeared
into woods after graze hit --
may it go on well


2
black car sits still stunned
in dooryard, white fur from hit --
sticking out from hood


3
house roof did not burn
after stovepipe fire hit --
kindly town firemen

Wednesday, February 01, 2017

won't anyone save us from this troublesome man

It's the community, stupid!

It rises in resistance.

one of the awful consequences elections have

Mike Hager's mother, Naimma, died in Iraq. http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/us_5891577ae4b0522c7d3e01ae?

[addendum: it seems the stated timing of his mother's death was not accurately told. She died some days before the ban. Still, in all, as with all deaths and inaccuracies, we acknowledge the sorrow experienced. 2feb17]

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

time it was and what a time it was

This, from Chicago:

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

As I was walking down the street one day
A man came up to me and asked me what the time was that was
On my watch, yeah
And I said
Does anybody really know what time it is
I don't
Does anybody really care
Care
If so I can't imagine why
About time
We've all got time enough to cry
Oh no, no

And I was walking down the street one day
A pretty lady looked at me and said her diamond watch had
Stopped cold dead
And I said
Does anybody really know what time it is
I don't
Does anybody really care
Care
If so I can't imagine why
About time
We've all got time enough to cry
Oh no, no

And I was walking down the street one day
Being pushed and shoved by people trying to beat the clock,
Oh, so I just don't know,
I just don't know
And I said, yes I said

People runnin' everywhere
Don't know the way to go
Don't know where I am
Can't see past the next step
Don't have to think past the last mile
Have no time to look around
Just run around, run around and think why

Does anybody really know what time it is
I don't
Does anybody really care
Care
If so I can't imagine why
About time
We've all got time enough to die
Oh no, no
Written by Robert William Lamm • Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management US, LLC
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7uy0ldI_1HA 

Monday, January 30, 2017

endgame at the beginning

It's something grown out of the right wing brand, namely, destabilize the government and diminish any opposition while replacing it with brutal intimidating authoritarian regime brooking no criticism and caring nothing for a subservient majority.

How will he go?

Sunday, January 29, 2017

no borders, no bounderies

Is nirvana extinguishing the flame?

Or, letting go reactivity?

We belong nowhere.

Belonging itself.

As itself.

Is all.