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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200618
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20200625
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200618T153659Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T115824Z
UID:964-1592438400-1593043199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love & happiness  6/18/20
DESCRIPTION:When the Morning Stars Sang Together by William Blake \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love & happiness newsletter \n  \n  \nJune 18\, 2020 \n  \nThe tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing which stands in the way. \n  \n—from William Blake’s letter to John Trusler\, August 16\, 1799 \n* \n  \n“I always say to myself: What is the most important thing we can think about at this extraordinary moment?” \n  \n—R. Buckminster Fuller\, from I Seem To Be a Verb \n* \n  \nNancy and I have been worrying about the men and women who are in prisons and jails at this difficult time. I was telling Kim about a conversation I had with Rocky Hutchinson—that I was touched to learn that Rocky was worrying about us. The next day\, while my coffee buddies and I were having Zoom fellowship\, this poem from Kim arrived in my email box: \n  \nInmate Calls Home  \n  \nMom\, I been all night worried— \nthis virus thing\, they say it gets everywhere. \nSo don’t go out\, okay? Get food\, sit tight. \nRead. Just read. You like that. Make calls.  \nNot great\, I know. You love those friends.  \nNights\, I hear you tell them things.  \nMom\, I been worried—cabin fever. Yeah\,  \non the inside we’re used to that. Lots of practice. \nTime just turns like a silly dancer\, you watch it. \nBut Mom\, what you gonna do with all that time?  \nNo visits\, no go where you want\, no bench \nin that park you like.   \nNights\, Mom\, no worry. No worry\, \nokay? Me\, I’m good. I’m so good. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nHoward Thoresen sent a couple of poems: \n  \nLife-and-Death \n  \nWater isn’t formed by being ladled  \ninto a bucket \nSimply the water of the whole Universe has been ladled \nInto a bucket \nThe water does not disappear because it has been \nScattered over the ground \nIt is only that the water of the whole Universe \nHas been emptied into the whole Universe  \nLife is not born because a person is born \nThe life of the whole Universe has been ladled \nInto the hardened “idea” called “I” \nLife does not disappear because a person dies \nSimply\, the life of the whole Universe has \nBeen poured out of this hardened “idea” of “I” \nback into the Universe. \n  \n—Uchiyama Roshi   \n* \n  \nIt Is I Who Must Begin \n  \nIt is I who must begin. \nOnce I begin\, once I try — \nhere and now\, \nright where I am\, \nnot excusing myself \nby saying things \nwould be easier elsewhere\, \nwithout grand speeches and \nostentatious gestures\, \nbut all the more persistently \n— to live in harmony \nwith the “voice of Being\,” as I \nunderstand it within myself \n— as soon as I begin that\, \nI suddenly discover\, \nto my surprise\, that \nI am neither the only one\, \nnor the first\, \nnor the most important one \nto have set out \nupon that road. \nWhether all is really lost \nor not depends entirely on \nwhether or not I am lost. \n   \n— Václav Havel  \n* \n  \nReminders from Walt: \n  \nI…peruse manifold objects\, no two alike and every one good\, \nThe earth good and the stars good and their adjuncts all good…. \n  \nDazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise would kill me\, \nIf I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me. \n  \n—from “Song of Myself by Walt Whitman \n* \n  \nAnd a very short story: \n  \nA woman went to see her therapist\, who was also a woman.  “I have a problem\,” she began.   \n“Yes?” the therapist said\, in that way that therapists do.   \n“It’s my husband\,” the woman said.   \n“I don’t see your husband here\,” said the therapist.   \n“He’s not here\,” said the woman.   \n“Where is your problem?” asked the therapist.   \n“In my mind\,” the woman said\, and suddenly realized highest perfect enlightenment. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-6-18-6-24-20/
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