I always find articles on the “spiritual” practices of the rich and famous fascinating. Does reading this article make you more or less interested in your own practice or does it not make any difference to you at all? Contemplation on which is your answer (might be a combination) is sure to give insight to your relationship both to society and to your practice.
On this mahashivratri , the darkest moon of winter, the night to delve into our dreams, into the rhythms of the wild dance of existence, experiencing the fullest emptiness . On this night, too, the goddess Uma (aka Parvati) incarnate as feline WHO IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ON THE BED appears to have been reunited with Siva Nataraja.
Today, if it was still there, it would be frozen.
It was already hot when I went out into the garden after I sat for meditation. I try only to water every third day it does not rain and have used soil supplements such as “soil moist” to make that possible, but it was critical that I water so that the plants survive today’s blazing heat.
Before I went out, while listening to the weather forecast, I drank my second glass of filtered tap water. I thought how lucky I am to have fresh drinking water from the tap, shelter from the heat, ice if I want it, and water for the garden. All those warnings to stay inside, keep cool, and drink plenty of liquids are meaningless unless one has access to those things.
I am grateful, too, for my practice. I know that a slow, quiet practice helps keep me cool and rested, and that I can get extra enjoyment from the way the heat warms my muscles without any effort at all on my part. In the heat, stillness is so welcome that sitting is as sweet an activity as I could know.
Half moon, telephone wires, crepe myrtle
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Major insight so far is into my own apparent willingness to see these people as “other”.
It still seems superficial and cloying, almost. It’s tough for me to see anyone’s basic motivation as the least bit profound. If it works, then I have no objections, but I’ve always seen the world of the celebrity as the world of the eternal dilettante.