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Posts Tagged ‘truth’

[words by Miriam Dyak, 2002 – discovered in this hour within We’Moon 2011]

Stop! Strike everything! No more words…

There is a fire in my blood, each cell a tiny house on fire –

something that has tasted God

 

Don’t talk to me! Don’t! Not when I’m so hungry

starving for the deep forest of your body

the way a storm hungers wildly for land

the way whales long for that hug

of thousand foot down ocean pressure

the way roots of just transplanted trees are crazy for home

 

Let me in! This is not about babies

not about houses or tea sets, not about your sweet bow or arrow

It is not even about the little gods of wheat and roads

and goes far beyond insurance, beyond stone temples

 

It is about the God that has landed in us

what I have bitten      what is now devouring me from the inside

You can’t even think of it directly

Imagine if all the birds in the world laned in this one wood

all of them at once

it would take the shape of a desire so vast the landscape itself

with everything on it would disappear into the earth

Just the cry would lift off like a rocket

Your bones your old shoes your new knowledge

all liquefied into sound

one touch and you’re turned to vibration

your geography changed and choiceless forever

 

It is too late for everything

but truth

finally on time

for love

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but from Midnite

Had the sheer exalted pleasure of basking in the power of Midnite last night. [Led there by the love in my heart and rushing through my veins, the soul has captured mine] The recording in the video was made when they performed at the same venue in Asheville last year. Trinity goddesses, loose limbs and One pulsation. This song was the message I’d come to hear

Love the life you live

Lead the life you love

Love the life you live

Lead the life you love

You should lead the life you love

You should lead the life you love

World is in trouble

Arm a geddon shall show her face

Upon creation

Goodness and mercy

Driven from the minds of the people

Lamentation

Jah Sire deliver me

Jah Sire have mercy

Jah Sire Father send I some

goodness and mercy

It a go murder them a go charge for

A pure chemical industry

Them a run from cultivation

Goodness and mercy

Driven from the minds of the people

Lamentation

Jah Sire deliver me

Jah Sire have mercy

Jah Sire Father send I some

goodness and mercy

Send I some goodness

Send I some goodness and mercy

Love the life you live

Lead the life you love

The mountains of Africa

They are familiar to me

You see the black sons of Cush

We were scattered everywhere

For as far as the eyes could see

But we are from the mountains of the moon

Kile Man Jah Row, Kile Man Jah Row

Mount Re Wen Zui, Mount Nebo

Kile Man Jah Row

So we love the life we live

Lead the life we love

We love the life we live

Lead the life we love

Lead the life we love

Lead the life we love

No tears, you don’t shed no tears

You don’t shed no tears

Awhoa no tears seen seen

Your body is your temple

Your one and only temple

You are living in the Holy Places

Of the tabernacle of the most high Jah

Love the life you live

Lead the life you love

Don’t shed no tears

You don’t shed no tears

When I cry I cry dry

When I cry I cry dry

Love the life you live

Lead the life you love

You are living in the Holy Places

Of the tabernacle of the most high Jah

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poornamadah poornamidam

That is whole, This is whole

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“In the frenzy of modern life we lose sight of the real value of humanity. People become the sum total of what they produce. Human beings act like machines whose function is to make money. This is absolutely wrong. The purpose of making money is the happiness of humankind, not the other way round. Humans are not for money, money is for humans. We need enough to live, so money is necessary, but we also need to realize that if there is too much attachment to wealth, it does not help at all… the wealthier one becomes, the more suffering one endures.”

– His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, in “How to Practice”

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Atma Vision

And the thing we have in common is awareness of the vision above, not merely as it applies to me, but as it applies to you and, too, all around us. Thank You for being receptive to the beauty within me and translating it by exercising your own.

Love

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Today, the third day of orientation for my new arrival at Warren Wilson College. They split us in to groups and asked us to say one word that exemplified the “issue most important to us.”

The list went: children. education. environment. homelessness. teens. love. environment, environment, environment, environment, environment. It came to me: Oppression. Because it seems obvious to me that all of the issues listed by others were essentially the same issue. They derived from oppression. Yes, it is important to reach out to children and teens so they can be taught skills against oppression in their formative years. It is obvious that homelessness is a direct result of oppression. And the environment? Surely the environmental problems and issues we face stem from the hierarchical position humans have mistakenly placed them in above nature. Humans wishing to subdue the environment, to use it and abuse it and push it to the corner as if it were nothing of importance. Oppression. Across the board, the issue most noted in the room was environment. Perhaps because the destruction seems so imminent? As in, say, the destruction of sexual violence and inequality between human beings does not seem to pose a threat that will destroy the human race (though it is, actively, destroying us). Nature, perhaps, does not allow us to ignore the abuses we’ve partaken in, whereas humans have become all too accepting. Even resigned. [Interestingly, none of the students in my group (all white) mentioned anything about race. I find it fascinating how eager so many are to believe that racism no longer exists and how uncomfortable people get when someone attempts to address it. Pretending it’s not there, ignoring racism does nothing to solve anything or move anyone forward.]

I reflected on my time at the Cambridge Women’s Center today. Boston and Cambridge continue to feel like an unfinished phantom leg of my life. Pleasant and realistic dream.

I volunteered at the Women’s Center about 3 hours a week for one year. In that time, I had experiences and conversations that I will never forget. They influenced my immediate life and worked to change my attitudes and beliefs longterm.

The center began in 1971 when a group of pissed off feminists commandeered an abandoned Harvard building, declaring that they needed a community space of their own. Donations flowed in and the women were able to purchase a house in Cambridge. The house became a vibrant flowing space. Completely volunteer run and absolutely free, the Women’s Center was a place for women to go where they could feel safe and celebrate themselves and each other. It was a place of honesty. A place of community. Over the years, however, attendance receded. The Center slowly became more of a service center than a community space. Now rather than a space for all women, it is a space for poor, homeless, struggling, mentally ill, and women who are victims to come for shelter or use of the kitchen or computer lab. There is little interaction between women and oftentimes it is angry or resentful. There is a separation between the women who use the center and those who volunteer there –

volunteers are placed in a role of authority over the women who are using the center. And I don’t mind noting that many of the volunteers are young women attending college or coming from a place of privilege. This isn’t true across the board, but by and large the women who use the center are not from privilege and those who volunteer are. The hierarchy thus remains enforced.

Reflecting today, I realized how important it was for me to have a regular time slot at the center every week. To see the same people and hear the same voices on the phone over the span of a year.

I realized today that this is how social change is made. Getting people together to interact in some space without hierarchy or structure. Getting two people who would normally never have a reason to speak or meet one another to bond, to form a connection. To learn to appreciate each other’s gifts and to see one another for who they are, rather than their race, economic class, religion, whatever.

This is revolutionary. This is how social change is made. I want to be a part of social change as made this way.

But how do we do this? How do we go about it. How do we get a group of unlikely people in a space together and melt them down until they realize the raw truth of their humanity, their oneness? Especially because what is so important is getting people who are most aversive to this kind of thing to participate. Old people, young people, black and brown and hindu and catholic and muslim and whatever people. People from all walks or wheels. People classified as mentally ill. People who only see their money. People who only see their kids. How do we collect folks together and break them down into the understanding that they are all living together in this life and essentially, everybody wants the same thing. How do we get people to realize that their interests, their true interests (not the false consumer-fed and individualist-bred) are everybody’s interests. And that if everyone stopped participating in oppression and all of its many omnipresent tools, many of the problems this world’s people experience would take care of themselves.

I want to be a part of the transcendence that occurs when two people overcome every obstacle and see one another. I want that in love. I want that in life. If ever I were to have any sort of “career,” this is the career I might choose.

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We’ll come Together

At the place where my horses run free. A place that is him and me, surrounded by some pure open expanse. Standing on solid ground. Ground that is solid but gives. And swallowed full by the sky –

this charcoal, indigo sky brown and blue. We are surrounded. And I

link my hand into yours

the delicate fingers loving each touch enough and so not to snap any

rubbing of pads and circles colliding

we shall link then

and toss our head back, its crown wanting the earth but the feet still firm roote

we shall roll our shoulders down and open our heart to the sky

the shine of our face drinking in the moon

and moving up, forward,

spirals.

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