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It’s not something I see everyday: a whistling old man sticking his thumb out for a ride. Pretty sure the first ride he will be offered (or would actually take) is the bus, but I imagine he will be happy with that.
I have no idea what was going on in his mind. Witnessing him made me hope that the older I get, the happier not only will I be, but will be my recollection of the past, however crazy I might appear to be.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
The texts on sadhana — yoga practice — say in simplified essence that mantra is the fulcrum between the unknowable universal and manifest particulars. What language we use and how we use it can either lead us towards skillfully navigating life informed by illuminated understanding or blundering through things with obscured vision (or, I add, somewhere in between, but which do you want to be your goal?). If you listen for your authentic voice, what words do you want to utter, which do you want to embody, which do you want to offer? The mantra is a tool (in the best sense of the word) to find a source for our own language (thought and spoken) that recognizes the common bond of dwelling together as neighbors (near or far) on this earth, in this universe.
New York City, June 13-14
These extraordinary trees are in the parking lot at the Grounds for Sculpture just outside of Trenton, NJ.