I took formal leave from work at midday today to bear witness to those who rearranged the rest of their lives to speak to their elected officials and others about their convictions in this democracy. I wanted to let them know how much I appreciate their efforts.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I have been told more than once that one cannot technically be a true practitioner/believer in the tenets of Kashmir Shaivism without believing in some form of Godhead. As a nontheist who still finds the teachings and practices informative and useful for how best to live, I ask consistently whether that is really true.
I’m sure a purist (religious or academic) would say there’s no anything to the philosophy without being a full believer. But what I think one gets from practices designed to heighten awareness of a divinely connecting universality in the wild diversity of life without a belief that what is universal a priori points to “God” is a recognition that with all that is troubling and difficult and hurtful and evil in this world, the very complexity and outrageousness of being is yet wonderful and inspiring in itself.
In a word, when all else fails, laugh (and create and live) with an ecstatic fatalism.
Painting by Sandra Dooley. Cuba 2014
Oh, the stories–
The stories we tell,
We share, we hear,
The stories we
Imagine. What in
Them is truth?
What is Truth?
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
On Saturday, along with a few thousand other people, I went to the March for Our Lives at the base of the Washington monument. Set out before the monument, in even rows, were thousands of vases of white and orange flowers (orange for the most recent) hundreds deaths from gun violence. it was raining off and on; the speakers were on a platform with loud audio-video, people held signs–some expressing rage, discuss, and frustration, some suggesting productive action. Near the vases, apart from the crowd and the noise, a person dressed in purple sat in meditation. After spending some time in the crowd and focussing on the speakers, I went and joined the person who was sitting. We talked a bit; Satyani acts as a “mindfulness mentor” and can be found on Facebook as “Kosmique Light Meditation.” Satyani did not identify as a protester and felt uncomfortable fighting and felt moved to act, which was what led to coming and sitting for meditation. I suggested, referencing Gandhi and Quaker practices, that being here meditating, holding the space, connecting with those who have died while being present for the living is very much participating in protesting.
On Sunday (before going down to the Capitol Pride Festival), I took a class on Zoom with Michele Cassandra Johnson for Patreon subscribers. She offered a soothing/cooling practice, and invited us to consider how we can cultivate cooling and soothing while saying amidst the fire and engaged in the fight?
To stay in it for the intensity it is now and the life-long practice it must be, that is an essential question, the answer to which will shift depending on circumstances.
Pictures from the March for Our Lives, the Capitol Pride Festival, and some fabulous bird sightings at Kingman and Heritage Island the Friday before, are posted on Instagram and Facebook.
I came out briefly to sit and contemplate and write in my journal before a staff meeting at lunch time (no lunch provided).
The Scott Burton chairs in the National Sculpture Garden are one of the more delightful places to sit outside near my office.
First, I was joined by several birds. Then some tourists came along. The one with all the jewels sat down at the direction of her friend in orange for a photo. “We’re not allowed to sit here,” the sitter said with a little glee in her voice.
I directed her to the sign near the seats giving permission. This led the photographer both to sit down with her friend, but also to lose any real interest in taking the photograph.
What was it about the loss of transgressiveness that made the photo less desirable? The chairs are the same whether permitted or not. In fact, with sitting permitted, there is more time to explore fully their function as chair as well as their form as art.
This set me wondering about how much our desires are driven by social ideas, rather than needs and comforts.
A father and his son approach the chairs fro the other direction. After reading the sign giving permission to sit, they promptly sat down. The bare statement “granite chairs,” was all that was said before they got back up and went on they’re way.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
