Some feel it would be nice if God spoke aloud with us.

Sleeping

He slept on his hands.
On a rock.
On his feet.
On someone else's feet.
He slept on buses, trains, in airplanes.
Slept on duty.
Slept beside the road.
Slept on a sack of apples.
He slept in a pay toilet.
In a hayloft.
In the Super Dome.
Slept in a Jaguar, and in the back of a pickup.
Slept in theaters.
In jail.
On boats.
He slept in line shacks and, once, in a castle.
Slept in the rain.
In blistering sun he slept.
On horseback.
He slept in chairs, churches, in fancy hotels.
He slept under strange roofs all his life.
Now he sleeps under the earth.
Sleeps on and on.
Like an old king.
(Poem "Sleeping" by Raymond Carver from Ultramarine. Vintage Books, 1986.)

You'd think we'd have to wake up to hear anything.

Still, even a somnolent God sleep-talks.

Stock markets blow erratically with autumn winds. Folks argue about strategy and speculate about solutions. There's not much of either. Those of independent means criticize those of limited means. Those in debt marvel at millionaires being bailed out and rewarded for their failures.

See for yourself.
Directly transcend the
principles and activities
of the buddhas and patriarchs.
Go through the forest of thorns.
Transcend the barriers
of potential described by
ancestral teachers.
Pass through the silver mountain
and iron wall; then for the first time
you will realize there is a
transcendent fundamental endowment;
you can sit, helping people solve their
sticking points and untie their bonds.
- Shoitsu (1202-1280)

In politics, weaker candidates decide to mount a campaign of dangerous threats to the well-being of stronger candidates. Absurd and stupid inflammatory rhetoric, attempts to stir violence and mayhem, partial truths wrapped in smelly fish stained newspaper, discarded dignity in yellow bags tossed into green transfer skips at town dump. The perpetrators are desperate. Their only hope is inciting violence against their opponents. They play a coy seditious video game with American sensibilities, mowing down terrorists and caricatured enemies, pointing at opposing running mates with disdain and disgust, lightly veiled invitations to lynch and kill, wave smiling to loyal rabid fans as partisan hacks rouse ire from radio and tv perches.

Elected officials, house and senate, executive and judiciary, look away with blank faces and feigned disinterest. If I weren't already insane with disapproval, I'd be tempted to go mad with disbelief.

Someone passing through shop says should anything untoward happen to Barack Obama she'd issue a fatwa against Mr. McCain and Ms. Palin for their participation in the untowardness. The common feeling seems to be that their comportment is unworthy and their demeanor unbecoming of any office they currently hold or aspire to attain.

I'd recommend they concentrate on evidence, analysis, and overt argumentation. Surely we could employ a level of intelligent dialectic that would surpass the tripe and trash of irresponsible voices.

Truth

As children in the schoolroom game
whisper from one end of the class to the other
and garble the message they pass on or change it
beyond recognition, so we
pass on the truth of our kind.

My father heard it from his, something
vaguely involving God, and his father
heard it from his, and so on back
to Abraham, and so father
passed it on to me, but God had dropped out.

And so my son heard it, a wisdom
found inside a Chinese fortune cookie:
"Be good and hope," which he will pass on
to his son, but maybe with good
missing or hope, maybe with love added.

Though love was never meant to mean so much.

(Poem "Truth" by Leonard Nathan from The Potato Eaters. Orchises Press, 1999.)

If we forget love, we'll get what terrifying rhetoric offers.

It's not too late for everyone to change.

A bit more humility.

I'll try.

A group gathers for the Course in Miracles. The afternoon has gone by. A couple stops by to tell they've self-published their art and words. Cigar smokers from Florida return for a warm weather visit and smoke on the patio.

In class last night we tried to focus on evidence, facts, and careful analysis. So many uninformed opinions about national election candidates.  The perpetrators of ignorant slander consider the electorate stupid. We have to prove that premise false.

There is no help in
changing your environment.
The obstacle is the mind,
which must be overcome,
whether at home or in the forest.
If you can do it in the forest,
why not in the home?
Therefore,
why change the environment?
- Ramana Maharshi (d. 1950)

Mind, we think, is inside the brain laden with habit and craving. But mind, say some thinkers, is what is between us, not within us. Thus, to know our "right mind" is to know the right relationship between us. There are frightening men and women who think fear is the ticket to their ascendancy to high office. Fear is the nemesis of love. With fear, no love; with love, no fear. The men and women wanting our fear will not get our love; nor do they want our love. They want our fear packaged as gratitude. They want us grateful they own and invest our fear into their ambitious plans for the world.  

Four Foundations of Mindfulness
“There is, monks, this one way to the purification of beings, for the overcoming of sorrow and distress, for the disappearance of pain and sadness, for the gaining of the right path, for the realization of Nibbana: --that is to say the four foundations of mindfulness.

“What are the four? Here, monks, a monk abides contemplating a body as body, ardent, clearly aware and mindful, having put aside hankering and fretting for the world; he abides contemplating feelings as feelings . . . he abides contemplating mind as mind . . . he abides contemplating mind-objects as mind-objects, ardent, clearly aware and mindful, having put aside hankering and fretting for the world.”
(--Mahasatipatthana Sutta: The Greater Discourse on the Foundations of Mindfulness, in Thus Have I Heard: The Long Discourses of the Buddha, translated by Maurice Walshe)

The saying should be changed: not 'mind over matter,' but rather, 'mind throughout, between, and beyond matter.' To know one's own mind is to extend out from enclosed spaces into open space of relational inquiry and analysis. We ask questions. We ponder responses. We intuit truth and actuate effort to do what needs to be done.

We need to think carefully. We need to be philosophers of rhetoric and opinion. Plato and Socrates are at hand to help us. Descartes and Rorty are ready. Wittgenstein and James are poised. Maseo Abe and Keiji Nishitani wait in empty silence for a voice asking them their way of viewing the complications of human thought and act.

I didn't understand a word at the Miracles gathering tonight. I was caught thinking about our failing economy and falling manners on political stumps. I do not find anything cute or sexy about demagoguery or dim-witted remarks. I'm old fashioned on this point. I feel candidates should run on their records and their honest plans to fix what needs fixing. We've had enough of character assassination and political chicanery. 

Just in case, I'm listening for Celtic Canadian fiddles from a long distance away. It's Thanksgiving there Monday, Columbus Day here. 

I might have to discover a new ground of gratefulness.  

A poem is where dreams go when no one is watching.

in time of daffodils

in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)

in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me

(poem by e.e. cummings)

Dream says to falling soul: I'll see you and raise you!

Pema Chodron speaks of hopelessness. Hard to warm to it. And yet, it says now is all there is -- don't hope for it, live it.

Though it has no bridge,
The cloud climbs up to heaven;
It does not seek the aid
Of Gautama’s sutras.
- Ikkuu

After hearing how hopeless life can be, I choose to live it right now for the time being.

Without belief in anything but the willingness to engage what is unfolding.

I write my senators.

I ask they contact their colleague Mr. McCain and ask him to avoid fearful and provocative rhetoric against his rival Mr Obama. I asked Senators Collins and Snowe to help moderate dangerous rhetoric into more civil discourse. I worry that violence will result from heightened smears and accusations. Mr. McCain and Mr. Obama must be held accountable for their public rhetoric.

Sentient beings are really Buddha.
Like water and ice;
Apart from water, no ice;
Outside of sentient beings, no Buddha.
Not knowing it is near
They seek for it afar!
Just like being in water,
But crying for thirst!
- Hakuin

I dislike the vituperative poison slandered through the airwaves.

I like that the point of convergence of liberation theology, Islamic mysticism, and engaged Buddhism is the sense of love that leads to commitment and involvement with the world, and not a turning-away from the world. A form of wisdom that I strive for is the ability to know what is needed at a given moment in time. When do I need to reside in that location of stillness and contemplation, and when do I need to get up off my ass and do whatever is needed to be done in terms of physical work, or engagement with others, or confrontation with others? I'm not interested in ranking one type of action over the other.
(--bell hooks, Tricycle: The Buddhist Review Fall 1992)

Today is the feast of St. Bruno, [1032-1101]. He founded the Carthusians. There have never been many of them. Silence. Solitude. Seclusion. The starkness of spirituality without celebrity. Not much to attract today's seekers.

We have to learn to listen to the strange sounds of the world's spiritual life. Prayer is prayer that appreciates the suffering of others. And longs for joy.

Another Reason Why I Don't Keep A Gun In The House

The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.

The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,

and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for barking dog.

When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton

while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.
(--Poem by Billy Collins)

We can use innovative genius today.

We cry with thirst for something to keep us alive!

My alarm in the zendo didn't sound, so we sat for 60 minutes instead of 40.

In the language of the Buddha, the word for fuel and for clinging is the same: upadana. The Buddha understood that suffering arises from and is fueled by clinging. When the fuel is removed, suffering is extinguished. By understanding how deep-rooted and subtle clinging is in our own unliberated minds, we come to appreciate the mind of nibbana as refreshingly cool and peaceful.
(--from The Good News. By Gil Fronsdale)

Before leaving shop for hermitage this evening, a woman came in. I recognized her face. She'd become very thin. Her movements were paper brittle. She smiled and asked for our schedule. I had none. After a bit Saskia said the woman had told her she was in hospice -- a friend of our's is her volunteer. We stayed a little later for her, loaned her reading glasses, and told her husband we'd throw her out when we were ready to go. There's not much time for her. She brought the glasses back after she'd stepped out the door. A silence of prayerful gaze followed her.

There's no reason for us to keep the shop open.

The heart needs none.

Francis of Assisi, Meetingbrook chapel/zendo, October 4th, on his feastday:


Rokpa, in chapel/zendo, October 4th, on his 1st birthday,


And up by tent, stalking tennis ball:


Finally, on bridge at brook with his kind friend.


A confluence of sweet events of a single day!

When the man in tie-died shirt asked, I said, "He was a nature mystic. He saw God in everything. In everyone."

Only this
Nothing more
No need to dust
No need to sit
- Feng Kan (7th c)

It's why Francis transcends all explanation. He was where God wished to be.

He gave up. Entered innocence.

Others thought they knew.

Not.

Francis.

Angels among us?

Etymology: The word "angel" in English (from Old English and German Engel), French (from Old French angele), Spanish, and many other Romance languages are derived from the Latin angelus, itself derived from Koine Greek: angelos, "messenger" The ultimate etymology of that word in Greek is uncertain.[2]

In Hebrew & Arabic the primary term for "angel" is "malakh", "malaika", or "malak" (derived from the Semitic consonantal root l-'-k, meaning "to send." This root is also found in the noun "Melakha", meaning "work", and the noun "Mal'achut", meaning "message". Other words referring to angels include kruv[3] describing young children, from which the English word "cherub" is derived. Another Hebrew term is Gil-Gulim, meaning "revolving," and angels are sometimes depicted as wheels with wings. Derived from this is the Hebrew term "Gal-Gal," "the rotation of fortune, change."[4]
(--Wikipedia)

What if "angel" was the word we use for the unbroken connection extending throughout all of existence -- all of being -- between what we call the Holy and what we call Ourselves? In other words, "angel" is the communicative intuitive remembering of wholeness, going to origin, open flow of awareness with no diversion.

If, for an instant, we become alert to the revelation of what is taking place, we are in the presence. We might say we are in the presence of angels, or we might say we are in the presence of Presence Itself. No bifurcation. Rather, a susurrus of sensate awareness seeming to suggest from a distance something that enlightens the action we are about to take, the thought we are attempting to reveal, or the reality we are longing to be.

Isolate and full, the moon
Floats over the house by the river.
Into the night the cold water
Rushes away below the gate.
The bright gold spilled on the river
Is never still.
The brilliance of my quilt
Is greater than precious silk.
The circle without blemish.
The empty mountains without sound.
The moon hangs in the vacant, wide constellations.
Pine cones drop in the old garden.
The senna trees bloom.
The same clear glory extends
For ten thousand miles.
- Tu Fu (712-790)

It is not yet easy to dwell in the understanding that all is inseparate and of a piece. We deal with spatials and temporals. There is an 'out there' and an 'in here' in our designations. The prospect that there is only 'here' and that every point along the line, every pause around the circle, is every other point, every other pause -- even while positing the opinion that there is no 'other' -- intrigues us and astounds us.

In our myths, in the stories we speak out of the silence of 'not knowing', we attempt to draw a sketch of our longings and fears.

Michael (the name means "Who is like God?") is said to be the captain of the heavenly armies. He is mentioned in the Scriptures in Daniel 10:13,31; 12:1 (where he is said to be the prince of the people of Israel); in Jude 9 (where he is said to have disputed with the devil about the body of Moses); and in Revelation 12:7 (where he is said to have led the heavenly armies against those of the great dragon). He is generally pictured in full armor, carrying a lance, and with his foot on the neck of a dragon. (Pictures of the Martyr George are often similar, but only Michael has wings.)

Gabriel (the name means "God is my champion") is thought of as the special bearer of messages from God to men. He appears in Daniel 8:16; 9:21 as an explainer of some of Daniel's visions. According to the first chapter of Luke, he announced the forthcoming births of John the Baptist and of our Lord to Zachariah and the Virgin Mary respectively.

Raphael (the name means "God heals") is mentioned in the Apocrypha, in the book of Tobit, where, disguised as a man, he accompanies the young man Tobias on a quest, enables him to accomplish it, and gives him a remedy for the blindness of his aged father.

Uriel (the name means "God is my light" -- compare with "Uriah", which means "the LORD is my light") is mentioned in 4 Esdras.
(--from Michael and All Angels, Sept 29, http://satucket.com/lectionary/Michael.htm)

Rain drenches earth this celebration of angels. In Catholic tradition 29Sept is designated for the Archangels and 2Oct is for the Holy Guardian Angels. In a time of discouragement and disillusionment we long for equanimity and poise in the face of what is presenting itself.

It matters that we attempt to become and remain alert.

Every human and sentient being, every stone and molecule of air, water, mineral, and empty space -- we are all intertwined and interconnected.

If it be.

Your will.

Angels preserve us!

On zafu at first light.

For no reason it rains,
Whispers of reality.
How lovely it sings,
Drop by drop.
Sitting and lying I listen
With emptied mind.
I don’t need ears,
I don’t need rain.
- Chin’gak

Finally bed this late night.

No-birth, no-death.

Cat comes in from rain.

We'll vote soon. Another month and small change. Let's practice now.

Where gather mists and clouds,
A happy world.
Thick swirls of incense smoke
Wreathe Heaven’s Gate.
The bell of Prajna chimes
Through vacant days.
Amida’s sutras are one
On quiet nights
Brooks sigh and sing
Like harps when rain has stopped.
Birds chirp sweet melodies
As sunshine dims.
The Way lies not far off-
Why toil for it?
Bodhi bears fruit
Right here inside the heart.
- Huynh Sanh Thong

Michael Moore's film, Slacker Uprising, ends with REM's "Its The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)".

It's free to see.

America should be .

So lucky.

New moon. Jewish New Year. Archangel's feasts. Free louver doors from someone's driveway.

Bailout plan fails in House of Representatives. One candidate blames the whole thing on the other. It could be funny, the blaming. No one is laughing. These people could possibly be president and vice-president. There's not much light.

A dash of rain upon
The lotus leaves. But the leaves
Remain unmarked, no matter
How hard the raindrops beat.
Mind, be like the lotus leaves,
Unstained by the world.
- Chong Ch’ol (1536)

These are serious times. Economic crisis. Leadership crisis. War and intelligence crisis. Makes you want to go off and listen to loons deep into the night.

People We'd Rather Avoid
Metta (lovingkindness) is to be extended towards all beings and all manifestations, yet most of our difficulties lie with people. It is much easier to love birds, dogs, cats, and trees than it is to love people. Trees and animals don't answer back, but people do, so this is where our training commences. . . . Sometimes people find they don't feel anything while practicing metta meditation. That is nothing to worry about; thoughts aimed often enough in the right direction eventually produce the feelings. All our sense contacts produce feelings. Thoughts are the sixth sense, and even if we are only thinking metta, eventually the feeling will arise. It is one means of helping us to gain this heart quality, but certainly not the only one.

In our daily activities all of us are confronted with other people and often with those whom we would rather avoid. These are our challenges, lessons and tests. If we consider them in that manner we won't be so irritated by these experiences. . . . When we realize that such a confrontation is exactly what we need at that moment in order to overcome resistance and negativity and substitute metta for those emotions, then we will be grateful for the opportunity.
(--Ayya Khema, in When the Iron Eagle Flies)

Where shall I go? How far can I go? And when I arrive -- what then? Where will I be?

all ignorance toboggans into know

all ignorance toboggans into know
and trudges up to ignorance again:
but winter's not forever,even snow
melts;and if spring should spoil the game,what then?

all history's a winter sport or three:
but were it five,i'd still insist that all
history is too small for even me;
for me and you,exceedingly too small.

Swoop(shrill collective myth)into thy grave
merely to toil the scale to shrillerness
per every madge and mabel dick and dave
—tomorrow is our permanent address

and there they'll scarcely find us(if they do,
we'll move away still further:into now                                                                                  (-- Poem by E.E. Cummings)

It's too much to think about.

Storm went east. Ginger cookie got set right. Stars are out. Zazen first, then compline.  

The practice of meditation is a matter of developing and establishing your energy. Indeed you must not waste it. The beginner should just push ahead with determination and awaken the genuine will to practice. Make it your basic purpose in chanting the scriptures to stabilize your energy in your hara. You should not diminish your energy by chanting the scriptures in an unnaturally forced way, nor by emptiness zazen, and the like. In chanting the scriptures, you should just train yourself in the stabilization of your energy.
- Shosan (1579-1655)

Man from France who visits Citeaux visited shop telling love of Trappists. Sufi practitioner moving to state of Washington left address of friendly foundation.

Cat in from out. Up on bed. Dog sticks nose in.

There's no authority says I'm anything other than what I'm not. So I remain anonymous. 

Outside.

Where I belong.

Hurricane, they say. Tonight more rain and wind. Late Sunday it will make landfall down east Maine or one of the Atlantic Provinces -- New Brunswick or Nova Scotia. There's a surprise. A small hurricane, they say, more a tropical storm. Still, small boats are huddling inner harbor.

After sunset the whole world is cool,
And after a rain, mountains and rivers are clear.
The prevailing wind comes from the west,
The sounds of autumn are congealed
In the sounds of grasses and trees.
I feel the rapidity of passing years,
And lament the fading away of material things.
Who would feel distressed
Seeing how the seasons affect man’s emotions? Let me ask the philosopher of the Gateway
To the Void.
What method is there to practice,
Which will cause me to abandon the
Desires for gain and not cause
Vexations to arise?
- Po-Chu-i (772-846)

The new coffee maker brewed on cue at 6AM in the newly cavernous kitchen at Ragged Mountain. Oatmeal with Kefir, French Vanilla yogurt, chocolate chips melted therein.

A couple from Vermont stop in. A geologist, she is taken with one of the stones Saskia found on an island. He tells me about Martinism. They take a ginger cookie and forget to pay before they leave.

Consequently, the Trinity, composed of the three terms which we have specified, should be considered under two aspects.

1. We should first look at the synthesis of this trinity, the cause of its reality. The third term (God the Holy Spirit) contains these conditions in itself.

2. We should then analyze this synthesis by dividing it into its three constituent terms, and by determining the existence of the two opposite terms, active and passive, positive and negative. We must not forget that during this analysis we destroy the reality of the being thus divided into fractions.

Every reality, of whatever kind it might be, is therefore composed of three terms, and these three terms are contained in one sole whole. This truth is quite as applicable to physics as to metaphysics; the works of Louis Lucas upon physics and chemistry, 1 and of Wronski in mathematics, 2 are an irresistible argument against those who think that a philosophical principle is a foolish idea, without any practical import.

The third term of our theogonic series, or God the Holy Ghost, therefore represents the whole body of God, who can be analyzed in this way--
(--from CHAPTER XIV. GENERAL SUMMARY OF THE SYMBOLICAL TAROT. THEOGONY--ANDROGONY--COSMOGONY, in The Tarot of the Bohemians, By Papus, [Gérard Encausse, (b. 1865 d. 1916)] Translated by A. P Morton, [1892])

I give Michael cookie for helping the woman bring sailboat to finger float. He thinks we'll catch fish for weeks with the knots she netted to cleats for security. He's like that.

The water is still calm. No wind yet. I'll take in the dory rower wind vane and fold in the sail flag. The tables are rolled to rear of patio. Chairs tucked under yellow bird house by lock marina fence.

There you are.

Time to go.

Home.

Senators McCain and Obama met in Louisiana tonight in their first debate. Good for them. We need to hear them side by side.

No matter what they said, the fact of saying it in full sight with no place to hide is important. Even if there are misrepresentations or sleight of hand comments, we can watch how they respond to the peculiar jousts.

Where he lives is indeed most
Elegantly secluded,
And the people who live there
Have all attained tranquility.
Dense groves of bamboo line
Both side of the road,
The clear brook flows by the hut.
How free and relaxed is the monk,
Having abandoned all the worry
And anxiety of the world,
The four meditations unite him
With Suchness so that he regards
Everything as illusory.
- Meng Hao-jan (689-765)

In prison this morning we red Raymond Carver's poem, "Happiness."

Happiness

So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.

When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.

They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren't saying anything, these boys.

I think if they could, they would take
each other's arm.
It's early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.

They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.

Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn't enter into this.

Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.
(Poem by Raymond Carver)

One of the men said he sometimes looks out his window at the chain link fence with rolled razor wire atop, and sees it as beautiful.

To see anything as itself is to see beauty.

The longing to see this moment reveal itself, to see what is wholly itself, is beauty.

Look here!

Beautiful!

God is one.

Monk Ch’ung-fan! Monk Ch’ung-fan!
You left in autumn to go to Mt. Fu-fu,
Now it is spring and you have not yet returned.
You must be fascinated by the bustling scene of
Falling flowers and singing birds,
You must be enjoying the solitude, surrounded
By brooks and mountains just outside your door
And window.
Surrounded by hills, who cares anything about
The affairs of the world?
As the city dwellers gaze into the distance,
They see nothing but peaks covered with clouds.
- Wang Wei (701-761)

There is no other.

We're home.

No matter what they tell us.

I prefer compassion.

To you, who are like a solitary cloud coming
Out freely from the mountain cavern,
Any famous scenic mountain serves as your refuge.
- Yuan-chien

Over being right.

Oscar the dog had a bath. His human companion looks for work. Couple from Florida stop by. Maine autumn briskness delights them.

Toy with the flowers
And their fragrance
Scents your garments.
- Kido Chigu (1185-1269)

Walked to Rockport Harbor and back last evening. At harbor a newly constructed boat sits at dock. I climb stairs to look at her.

ADVENTURE is a 53-foot historic replica of an 18th century colonial trading vessel designed by the late William Baker. She will replace an existing replica that currently is on display at the Charlestowne River landing.
(--Rockport Marine writeup)

Belted Galloway herd chewed hay. Said hello to Herb at his grave site in Rockport Cemetery. In my ear the public radio version of the urgency of financial repair.

This morning, church. Waking at dawn, first color coming from eastern horizon. Water in harbor unmoving. Calm at end of dark night. We ate upstairs after Saskia and Rokpa returned from rowing and I from walk. I'm reading from The Moral of the Story, An Anthology of Ethics Through Literature (Singer and Singer editors). The stories remind just how complex living as a human in this existence can be.

One of the regulars talks to two women about hypnosis, psy-ops, proliferation, and other world issues of population, sustained economies, and personal as well as world problems.

Russian chant plays from cd. Now Gregg and Susan's cd, Rambling Sailors, Wanderlust plays sea chanteys. Four women row out to sailboat for first autumn sail. O'a comes by to pick up Rokpa to play with Bailey the elder poodle up on the 12.8 acres for sale.

I drink Kefir, probiotic raspberry version. The air becomes ungrounded with theories swirling like drunken nutrinos just off their trajectory from some unnamed galaxy.

An Opportunity to Create the Future
It is a characteristic tendency of human beings to indulge in emotions such as happiness, grief, or anger in response to present conditions, failing to balance these feelings with the awareness that present conditions are results of past causes. It is illogical to face the present only as an object of enjoyment or tolerance, neglecting to use it as the opportunity to create the future.
(--Muso Kokushi, in Dream Conversations)

If the world is stranger than can be proven, it is not stranger than we can imagine.

Dissociative fugue: People with this condition dissociate by putting real distance between themselves and their identity. For example, you may abruptly leave home or work and travel away, forgetting who you are and possibly adopting a new identity in a new location. People experiencing dissociative fugue typically retain all their faculties and may be very capable of blending in wherever they end up. A fugue episode may last only a few hours or, rarely, as long as many months. Dissociative fugue typically ends as abruptly as it begins. When it lifts, you may feel intensely disoriented, depressed and angry, with no recollection of what happened during the fugue or how you arrived in such unfamiliar circumstances.
(--MayoClinic.com)

Maybe we don't remember who we are. Maybe there are multiple dimensions and multiple personalities. Maybe there are two, three, four, or five Americas, each ruled by secretive cabals intent on hiding their actions and decisions from each other and from the general populace. I don't know. That's beyond me. I like cookies and peanut butter and jam on English muffins.

The Banking, Housing, & Urban Affairs Committee gathered this morning to hear Treasury Secretary Henry M. Paulson Jr., Federal Reserve Chairman Ben S. Bernanke and Chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission Christopher Cox testify.

But after hours of back-and-forth, the committee’s leaders said explicitly what had seemed clear all day: that they rejected the administration’s plan. “What they have sent us is not acceptable,” the committee chairman, Senator Christopher J. Dodd, Democrat of Connecticut, told The Associated Press.

The panel’s ranking Republican agreed. “We have to look at some alternatives,” Senator Richard C. Shelby of Alabama told The A.P.

One after another throughout the session, senators from both parties said that, while they were prepared to move fast, they were far from ready to give the administration everything it wanted in its proposed $700 billion plan to buy up and hopefully resell troubled mortgage-backed securities. (-- Bailout Plan a Hard Sell on Capitol Hill, By MARK LANDLER and STEVEN LEE MYERS, Published: September 23, 2008 The New York Times)

How do we hear what is true? How put into practice what we know to be true? How do we discern the real from the unreal, the natural and authentic from the fabricated and fraudulent?

His mother and his brothers came looking for him, but they could not get to him because of the crowd. He was told, ‘Your mother and brothers are standing outside and want to see you’ But he said in answer, ‘My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and put it into practice.’
(--Luke 8:19 - 21)

In quiet places I sometimes ask out loud for help to listen to what is true. I never hear any response out of the ordinary.

Only ordinary sounds.

From mothers'.

Brothers'.

Sisters'.

Hearing.

Sometimes the ugly sound of a bomb is exactly what it is -- an ugly sound. Whether that bomb is made of destructive metal and explosive detonators, or if it is made of 700 billion doubtful dollars, much of which will go to benefit very greedy men and institutions at root the cause of this financial fiasco. The sound of the oncoming bomb should give us pause.

Between the cost of the Iraq war (some three trillion, says the Washington Post) and the cost of the administration's Wall Street debacle (most likely well over one trillion) -- you would think someone would have thought of simple things like health care for everyone, equal expenditure for educational quality for our children, and proper care of bridges and roads. The sound of our imbalanced priorities hurts the ears of anyone listening.

The sound of peaceful music, the sound of terrible noise, are both clearly revealed as they are and nothing else. Nonetheless, we prefer the peacefulness and dislike the irritation of the noise. We try to control, to change things to how we want them. This can be done with a certain degree but cannot be done completely and eternally. If, on the other hand, we accept things as they are and see things as clearly revealed as they are, that acceptance itself is the first step toward unbreakable peacefulness.
- Eido Tai Shimano (b. 1932)

This might be the one straw too many. It's hard to imagine that enormous amounts of money will be paid out to failed leaders by failed leaders while so many support their "betters" utterly against their own interests and needs.

Do not refuse a kindness to anyone who begs it,
if it is in your power to perform it.
Do not say to your neighbour, ‘Go away! Come another time!
I will give it you tomorrow’, if you can do it now.
Do not plot harm against your neighbour
as he lives unsuspecting next door.
Do not pick a groundless quarrel with a man
who has done you no harm.
Do not emulate the man of violence,
never model your conduct on his;
for the wilful wrong-doer is abhorrent to the Lord,
who confides only in honest men.
The Lord’s curse lies on the house of the wicked,
but he blesses the home of the virtuous.
He mocks those who mock,
but accords his favour to the humble.
(Proverbs 3:27 - 34)

Wisdom and humility are in short supply these days. We are crowded in by mocking mendacity.

We need silence. And space for solitude. Stillness and a sense of holy diffidence. All will, we want to think, be well.

Jesus said:
‘No one lights a lamp to cover it with a bowl or to put it under a bed. No, he puts it on a lamp-stand so that people may see the light when they come in. For nothing is hidden but it will be made clear, nothing secret but it will be known and brought to light. So take care how you hear; for anyone who has will be given more; from anyone who has not, even what he thinks he has will be taken away.’
(Luke 8:16 - 18)

Jesus was talking about understanding, not money. If you have it, it will increase. If you don't have it, what little you might think you have will dissipate. To understand requires stark engagement with what is taking place.

It is good counsel to "take care how you hear."

So many sounds come our way. It is difficult to discern the sincere from the sarcastic -- there are training programs to coach the sinister to sound like the sacred.

Only genuine inner silence will hear the difference.

Listen well.

We are brothers and sisters -- first and foremost.

Learn this first.