Some things we need to learn to adequately navigate the environment in which we are living. Some things we can choose to learn. And sometimes, life gives us the choice of suffering or learning from what life has given us.
Wouldn’t make a bad epitaph. In the mean time, trying (sadhana).
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Does “black” here refer to the artist who stenciled the letters, to the brickmaker, to the bricklayer; was it painted by someone who is color-blind or who was showing that for one who is red-green color-blind the word “black” would not be visible; or is the painting intentionally asking us what we see when we see the word for a color painted using a different color than that pointed to by the word?
This is such a wonderful demonstration of how words can confuse our understanding of the world as much as they can communicate. I think much attempt to put into words spiritual and mystical thought and experience suffers from this multiple muddling of meaning.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Why did it make me feel better to think it could have been worse? Hurricane Irene revealed a place that probably would not have leaked (into the living room) if mortar had not been shaken loose by the earthquake earlier this week. As I was doing another check early this morning of the house and perimeter to see if I needed to do anything to prevent worse damage from late discovery, I thought that it probably would have been a lot worse for the earthquake to have revealed stresses from the hurricane than having had them do the reverse. I guess it would depend on how the two impacted something to know which sequence would have been easier to weather.
I am appreciating my good fortune in having seen the wind and the rain and come out having no tangible material impact other than memories and relatively minor repairs that need to be done in a hurry. Holding all in the path in the light.
Seeing this painted murti brought a flash of childhood memory of the garden statuary Venus de Milo in my grandparents’ garden that my uncle spray-painted dayglo orange.
