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SUMMARY:peace\, love & pollyanna  10/15/20
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nOctober 15\, 2020 \n  \nI WANT TO BE MORE LIKE POLLYANNA \n  \nPollyanna: noun an excessively cheerful or optimistic person. \n  \nIn conversations with people\, I often find myself trying to put a positive spin on things. Is there something wrong with me? Could I somehow be (shudder)…unrealistic?! Afraid to face facts?! A Pollyanna?!!! \n  \nI always got the impression that there was something horribly wrong with being “a Pollyanna.” But I was beginning to suspect that maybe I am one. I decided to investigate. Just who or what is a Pollyanna? I got the book—Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter\, first published in 1913. I read it. I realize that I am no Pollyanna. But now I aspire to be more like her every day. \n  \nAs the story opens\, Pollyanna is eleven years old. She has lived in poverty with her loving father\, a minister. He has just died\, and now the orphaned Pollyanna has become the ward of her unhappy Aunt Polly. She is a cheerful little girl. Maybe even excessively cheerful. And for this sin she has become an object of scorn for hipsters\, cynics\, intellectuals\, and people who suffer from depression and self-pity—(who probably have not deigned to actually read the book). \n  \nPollyanna likes to play the “glad game\,” which her father taught her. Here’s the story of the glad game as she tells it to her aunt’s maid\, Nancy: \n  \n     “But\, say\, we better hurry. I’ve got ter get them dishes done\, ye know.” \n     “I’ll help\,” promised Pollyanna\, promptly. \n     “Oh\, Miss Pollyanna!” demurred Nancy. \n     For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna took a firmer hold of her friend’s arm. \n     “I reckon I’m glad\, after all\, that you DID get scared—a little\, ’cause then you came after me\,” she shivered. \n     “Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry\, too. I—I’m afraid you’ll have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn’t like it—because you didn’t come down ter supper\, ye know.” \n     “But I couldn’t. I was up here.” \n     “Yes; but—she didn’t know that\, you see!” observed Nancy\, dryly\, stifling a chuckle. “I’m sorry about the bread and milk; I am\, I am.” \n     “Oh\, I’m not. I’m glad.” \n     “Glad! Why?” \n     “Why\, I like bread and milk\, and I’d like to eat with you. I don’t see any trouble about being glad about that.” \n     “You don’t seem ter see any trouble bein’ glad about everythin’\,” retorted Nancy\, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna’s brave attempts to like the bare little attic room. \n     Pollyanna laughed softly. \n     “Well\, that’s the game\, you know\, anyway.” \n     “The—GAME?” \n     “Yes; the ‘just being glad’ game.” \n     “Whatever in the world are you talkin’ about?” \n     “Why\, it’s a game. Father told it to me\, and it’s lovely\,” rejoined Pollyanna. “We’ve played it always\, ever since I was a little\, little girl. I told the Ladies’ Aid\, and they played it—some of them.” \n     “What is it? I ain’t much on games\, though.” \n     Pollyanna laughed again\, but she sighed\, too; and in the gathering twilight her face looked thin and wistful. \n     “Why\, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel.” \n     “CRUTCHES!” \n     “Yes. You see I’d wanted a doll\, and father had written them so; but when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn’t any dolls come in\, but the little crutches had. So she sent ’em along as they might come in handy for some child\, sometime. And that’s when we began it.” \n     “Well\, I must say I can’t see any game about that\,” declared Nancy\, almost irritably. \n     “Oh\, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be glad about—no matter what ’twas\,” rejoined Pollyanna\, earnestly. “And we began right then—on the crutches.” \n     “Well\, goodness me! I can’t see anythin’ ter be glad about—gettin’ a pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!” \n     Pollyanna clapped her hands. \n     “There is—there is\,” she crowed. “But I couldn’t see it\, either\, Nancy\, at first\,” she added\, with quick honesty. “Father had to tell it to me.” \n     “Well\, then\, suppose YOU tell ME\,” almost snapped Nancy. \n     “Goosey! Why\, just be glad because you don’t—NEED—’EM!” exulted Pollyanna\, triumphantly. “You see it’s just as easy—when you know how!” \n     “Well\, of all the queer doin’s!” breathed Nancy\, regarding Pollyanna with almost fearful eyes. \n     “Oh\, but it isn’t queer—it’s lovely\,” maintained Pollyanna enthusiastically. “And we’ve played it ever since. And the harder ’tis\, the more fun ’tis to get ’em out; only—only sometimes it’s almost too hard—like when your father goes to Heaven\, and there isn’t anybody but a Ladies’ Aid left.” \n     “Yes\, or when you’re put in a snippy little room ‘way at the top of the house with nothin’ in it\,” growled Nancy. \n     Pollyanna sighed. \n     “That was a hard one\, at first\,” she admitted\, “specially when I was so kind of lonesome. I just didn’t feel like playing the game\, anyway\, and I HAD been wanting pretty things\, so! Then I happened to think how I hated to see my freckles in the looking-glass\, and I saw that lovely picture out the window\, too; so then I knew I’d found the things to be glad about. You see\, when you’re hunting for the glad things\, you sort of forget the other kind—like the doll you wanted\, you know.” \n     “Humph!” choked Nancy\, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. \n     “Most generally it doesn’t take so long\,” sighed Pollyanna; “and lots of times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking\, you know. I’ve got so used to playing it. It’s a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it so much\,” she faltered. “I suppose\, though\, it—it’ll be a little harder now\, as long as I haven’t anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will play it\, though\,” she added\, as an after-thought. \n     “My stars and stockings!—HER!” breathed Nancy\, behind her teeth. Then\, aloud\, she said doggedly: “See here\, Miss Pollyanna\, I ain’t sayin’ that I’ll play it very well\, and I ain’t sayin’ that I know how\, anyway; but I’ll play it with ye\, after a fashion—I just will\, I will!” \n     “Oh\, Nancy!” exulted Pollyanna\, giving her a rapturous hug. “That’ll be splendid! Won’t we have fun?” \n     “Er—maybe\,” conceded Nancy\, in open doubt. “But you mustn’t count too much on me\, ye know. I never was no case fur games\, but I’m a-goin’ ter make a most awful old try on this one. You’re goin’ ter have some one ter play it with\, anyhow\,” she finished\, as they entered the kitchen together. \n     Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then\, at Nancy’s suggestion\, she went into the sitting room\, where her aunt sat reading. Miss Polly looked up coldly. \n     “Have you had your supper\, Pollyanna?” \n     “Yes\, Aunt Polly.” \n     “I’m very sorry\, Pollyanna\, to have been obliged so soon to send you into the kitchen to eat bread and milk.” \n     “But I was real glad you did it\, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk\, and Nancy\, too. You mustn’t feel bad about that one bit.” \n     Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair. \n     “Pollyanna\, it’s quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day\, and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be careful how you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See that you are down to that. Good-night.” \n     Quite as a matter of course\, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt’s side and gave her an affectionate hug. \n     “I’ve had such a beautiful time\, so far\,” she sighed happily. “I know I’m going to just love living with you but then\, I knew I should before I came. Good-night\,” she called cheerfully\, as she ran from the room. \n     “Well\, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly\, half aloud. “What a most extraordinary child!” Then she frowned. “She’s ‘glad’ I punished her\, and I ‘mustn’t feel bad one bit\,’ and she’s going to ‘love to live’ with me! Well\, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly again\, as she took up her book. \n     Fifteen minutes later\, in the attic room\, a lonely little girl sobbed into the tightly-clutched sheet: \n     “I know\, father-among-the-angels\, I’m not playing the game one bit now—not one bit; but I don’t believe even you could find anything to be glad about sleeping all alone ‘way off up here in the dark—like this. If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly\, or even a Ladies’ Aider\, it would be easier!” \n     Down-stairs in the kitchen\, Nancy\, hurrying with her belated work\, jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher\, and muttered jerkily: \n     “If playin’ a silly-fool game—about bein’ glad you’ve got crutches when you want dolls—is got ter be—my way—o’ bein’ that rock o’ refuge—why\, I’m a-goin’ ter play it—I am\, I am!” \n  \nMrs. Snow is an “invalid\,” confined to her bed. Twice a week\, as an act of charity\, Aunt Polly has her maid Nancy bring hot food to her. Pollyanna volunteers to do it. She tries to cheer Mrs. Snow up: \n  \n     “They didn’t tell me you were so pretty!” \n     “Me!—pretty!” scoffed the woman\, bitterly. \n     “Why\, yes. Didn’t you know it?” cried Pollyanna. \n     “Well\, no\, I didn’t\,” retorted Mrs. Snow\, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived forty years\, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy things as they were…. \n     “Oh\, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it\,” sighed Pollyanna. \n     Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably. \n     “Well\, you wouldn’t!—not if you were me. You wouldn’t be glad for black hair nor anything else—if you had to lie here all day as I do!” \n     Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown. \n     “Why\, ‘twould be kind of hard—to do it then\, wouldn’t it?” she mused aloud. \n     “Do what?” \n     “Be glad about things.” \n     “Be glad about things—when you’re sick in bed all your days? Well\, I should say it would\,” retorted Mrs. Snow. “If you don’t think so\, just tell me something to be glad about; that’s all!” \n     To Mrs. Snow’s unbounded amazement\, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and clapped her hands. \n     “Oh\, goody! That’ll be a hard one—won’t it? I’ve got to go\, now\, but I’ll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come I can tell it to you. Good-by. I’ve had a lovely time! Good-by\,” she called again\, as she tripped through the doorway. \n  \nPollyanna returns a couple days later. \n  \n     “I’ve thought it up\, Mrs. Snow—what you can be glad about.” \n     “GLAD about! What do you mean?” \n     “Why\, I told you I would. Don’t you remember? You asked me to tell you something to be glad about—glad\, you know\, even though you did have to lie here abed all day.” \n     “Oh!” scoffed the woman. “THAT? Yes\, I remember that; but I didn’t suppose you were in earnest any more than I was.” \n     “Oh\, yes\, I was\,” nodded Pollyanna\, triumphantly; “and I found it\, too. But ‘TWAS hard. It’s all the more fun\, though\, always\, when ’tis hard. And I will own up\, honest to true\, that I couldn’t think of anything for a while. Then I got it.” \n     “Did you\, really? Well\, what is it?” Mrs. Snow’s voice was sarcastically polite.   \n     Pollyanna drew a long breath. \n     “I thought—how glad you could be—that other folks weren’t like you—all sick in bed like this\, you know\,” she announced impressively. \n* \n  \nCheerful and optimistic people are often considered to be not very bright. For many years now\, depressed chain-smoking intellectuals have been assuring us that existence is absurd\, that life is meaningless and we’re all doomed. As Bertolt Brecht said: “He who laughs has not yet heard the bad news.” But if happiness is just for half-wits\, why is the Dalai Lama always chuckling? \n  \nThe novel Pollyanna brings me back to a favorite them of mine: Culture That Nurtures. That’s what culture is supposed to do: make us feel good\, kind\, happy\, safe. Our popular entertainment—movies\, TV\, video games—is a barrage of violence. It marinates us in fear\, anger\, hatred and gloom. Like Charles Dickens\, Eleanor H. Porter wanted to make us kinder. People watch “A Christmas Carol” and “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” every year to be reminded of our essential goodness. \n  \nSurely there has always been\, is now\, and will always be terrible violence\, tragedy and injustice in our world. It is just for that reason that we need healing stories—stories that remind of our essential goodness\, stories that nurture peace\, love\, happiness and understanding in our hearts and minds. \n  \nLast Sunday\, at our Bibliophiles Unanimous Zoom gathering\, we were talking about Positive Futures and Utopian Visions. Ken Margolis was inspired by reading the book The Corner That Held Them by Sylvia Townsend Warner to announce excitedly that This is Utopia! Jeffrey Sher told us that when Stephen J. Gould was asked how he could be optimistic\, he replied: “What’s the alternative?” Dave Duncan told us that David Byrne\, formerly of Talking Heads\, has started a website called Reasons To Be Cheerful. Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://reasonstobecheerful.world \n  \nI recommended books by David Korten and Charles Eisenstein. There are a lot of their talks on YouTube. Here are a couple links: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SRYEHOStmss&t=3211s \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKYqbNzAav4 \n  \nSomeone who helps me to be more Pollyanna-like is Thich Nhat Hanh. A lot of his talks are on YouTube. Here’s a link to an interview Oprah Winfrey did with him: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJ9UtuWfs3U \n  \nI was just heading out to print up this newsletter\, but I happened to check my Inbox and found this poem from Kim. It’s perfect for our theme. Here it is: \n  \nOur Next Big Thing  \n  \nThe deal-maker is in denial\, Mr. Kentucky \non a tear\, the zigzag death toll seeks the sky\, \nsomeone gets shot asking for a mask\, a naming \nparty sparks another outbreak\, the news is \nmega fires and hurricanes\, and our fears \ncome true like wishes turned to curses \nthat prey upon our foolishness.  \n  \nSo why does the wren still sing? Why \ndid I see a child skip\, a mail clerk grin \nin that moment she adjusted her mask? \nWhy the uptick in random kindnesses? \nDogs don’t stop wagging\, or flowers \nopening their secrets. We must be \ngetting ready for the next big thing. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nWhen I told Kim that this week’s issue features Pollyanna\, he said: “Oh\, the Glad Game!” (I’m afraid Kim might have some Pollyanna-ish tendencies himself.) He recommended the cartoon by Gary Larson where two devils in Hell are watching a guy whistle while he hauls brimstone in a wheelbarrow. One says to the other: “You know\, we’re just not getting to that guy.” \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in love. \n  \n—Johnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-pollyanna-10-15-20/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201015
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201115
DTSTAMP:20260503T115117
CREATED:20201016T172208Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20211130T015411Z
UID:1370-1602720000-1605398399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  10/15/20
DESCRIPTION:Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nOctober 15\, 2020 \n  \nWelcome to our second meditation and mindfulness dialogue! The numbers below refer to passages from the book Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh. (JS) \n* \nHello the Open Road! I’m very excited to be part of the mindfulness and meditation group. My experience with Your True Home has provided interesting insight on the riddles I seek to solve\, and is filled with wonderful tools. \nToday my inspiration for writing \, and just inspiration in general\, comes from pages 1\, 2 and 148: Your True Home\, One Hundred Percent and Fearless Bodhisattvas. These three brought thoughts about many things\, but some in particular I explored: The Sam-sara\, Living in the moment. \nA friend once told me\, that in order to escape the Sam-sara we mustn’t sow karma\, good or bad\, and must just be. At the time I thought he was suffering delusions\, but I’m not sure that is the case anymore. Maybe he was right\, maybe if we live in the moment we truly live\, rather than die. I say this because by living in the moment we can escape the constant cycle of dying with each moment as it passes\, and escape being born again as another moment arrives. Instead of surfing each wave\, sail the sea\, move with the wind and tides. Be a piece of driftwood; who cares what happens\, because it doesn’t happen until it does\, and even then be driftwood. \nIn a way my friend was right\, he was a piece of driftwood and I the wave. But that moment has passed and I am truly home now\, fearless\, one hundred percent of the time\, possessing the key to the great escape. \n—Joshua Tyler Barnes \nPS…All the meditation writings I read in your last newsletter Rocked! Thanks. \n* \nThank you for the Finding Deep Calm thing from Kim Stafford. [“peace\, love\, happiness & understanding\,” 8/27/20] I really appreciate it! I’ve shared it with several people and it’s really been an eye opener for perspective…especially right now… \nThe Suffering of Those We Love  #23 \nHow do we cope with the suffering of those we love? I’d surely take their pain away if I could. Makes it a lot easier to keep mindfulness in your heart when those you love are in pain. I can try to hold my anger or sorrow and fear with the energy of mindfulness for them. It’s the least I can do\, right? \n—Jeff Kuehner \n* \n#75  Your True Nature  &  #247 Nirvana Is Now \nIn the legend of the Buddha\, it is said that he sat under a tree and realized nirvana. When we hear this story\, we wonder: “What’s nirvana?” Nirvana is described as something like “perfect freedom\,” or “ultimate reality.” It sounds pretty good. We might think\, “I’d like to get that. How do I do it?” In one version of Buddhism\, it is very hard to get. Only a few rare souls can attain it\, after diligently practicing for many lifetimes. In Thich Nhat Hanh’s version of nirvana\, which he equates with the Christian idea of the Kingdom of God\, we already have it. It’s not far away or hard to get. It’s who we are. I like that. A perfect moment is always available to anyone. Maybe this moment is perfect. \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n#305  Sit With Your Fear \nWhen I was 10 or so my family was eating dinner with our church’s pastor\, I was outside playing with the pastor’s two boys. They had built a treehouse and a zip line from the treehouse to another tree\, and they had wrapped a mattress around the tree to soften the landing when using the zip line. The “landing” was basically crashing into the tree\, so the mattress was helpful. The treehouse was around 20 feet off the ground\, not so high that I had trouble climbing up to it. Oh\, by the way\, I’m afraid of heights\, but using the zip line was a whole different thing. I stepped to the edge\, wrapped my hands around the handle\, and…well\, nothing. I froze. I was yelling in my head to just step off the edge\, I’d be fine\, but my body would not respond. So I did what any logical 10 year old would do: I told my friends to push me off the edge. They were not too keen on the idea and tried to provide verbal assistance\, but their words could not overcome my body’s response. So I again told them to just push me. In fact\, I think I yelled it. So the oldest did! Off I went down the line\, slamming into the mattress. It was so fun! So up I went\, and this time I could step off the edge without assistance. \nThere are always going to be things in this world to be scared of\, sometimes all we need is a willing heart and a friend to give us a push! \nJohnny\, this has been fun writing for the M & M Dialogue. Thank you! I enjoy writing and I need to practice\, but I find it hard to write for myself or for its own sake. Having something to write for is very motivating! \n—Cody Dalton \n* \nToday’s study card encourages me to assess my progress with meditative practices. Quality of life should improve with consistent and genuine practice\, and if that is not true\, I’m probably not doing something correctly. YTH reflects on this at #129. Meditation results in becoming more anchored emotionally/intellectually/spiritually\, and more freedom from emotional ups and downs. \nThe founder of this meditation tradition outlined several benefits of meditation. “Better sleep.” Check. I sleep great\, most of the time. “Wake up feeling refreshed.” That is usually true. “Nightmares will become rare.” Hmmm\, I had a nightmare last week\, but they do seem rare. “Animals and people will feel drawn to you.” Well\, I focus on a mostly solitary existence\, but I don’t think I have “charisma.” I will work on this more. “Mind becomes immediately calm.” I’ll rate this 70-30\, true 70% of the time\, which is a huge improvement over where I was even two years ago. “Complexion brightens.” Seems true. “You’ll die with a clear mind.” Yeah\, I’m not ready to test that theory yet. I’ll take that on faith. \n—Shad Alexander \n* \n#365 \n“The moment of awareness\,” this is something that we as a nation need. First of all\, I am guilty of this. But it is a practice. Something not unattainable. To be aware of what is going on to the left and to the right. To see where we are headed. “We have to wake up!\,” this sleepy nation of ours. So many just going through the steps. Cookie cutter lives\, if only I had the opportunity to live outside these walls. No better\, no worse\, just driven. Driven to enjoy bettering myself and those to my left and right. \nLet’s start the revolution. \nThanks Johnny. \n—Brandon Gillespie \n* \nDear Johnny\, \nAs I think I told you\, I have taken up golf in my old age\, just by accident\, since I live a few blocks from a golf course\, I thought I would try it just to see what it was like. That was last spring. I quickly found that I loved the game. It is a practice of putting mind and body together in a challenging physical ritual\, and at it’s best there is a mystical experience to be had….fleetingly. \nI began with no skill and have worked my way up to having a tiny amount. But lately my eighty-year old body has been having trouble finding the intersection of time and space\, and I have been playing at the level I was playing at six months ago. Yesterday I played 18 holes particularly badly and came home feeling very frustrated. Of course I went out this morning and practiced\, and did a little better\, almost certainly because I wasn’t trying too hard to do well. \nThen I came home\, turned on my computer\, and read Beginner’s Mind. It came like a ray of light that if I can play with beginner’s mind\, I will no longer get frustrated. I will probably play better too\, although that won’t matter any more (yes it will). \nThanks\, Johnny\, this filled my tank. \nLove\, Ken \n—Ken Margolis \n* \n“So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others’ views\, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life\, perfect your life\, beautify all things in your life.” \n—quote by an unknown author from Josh Underhill \n* \nYesterday [10/5] I heard that Thich Nhat Hanh has stopped taking food. They expect his “transition” soon. But today I heard that he occasionally stops eating and then starts again. So he is really unchanged. On October 11 he will be 94. \nI have been thinking about a teaching of Thay’s that I try to remember often. He said once\, “Are you enjoying not having a toothache?” This feels like a profound thought to me. Some time ago I had a pain in my side. It went on for a couple of months and I even went to a doctor\, which is rare for me. They didn’t find anything\, but the pain went away. Am I enjoying not having a pain in my side? In my school of Zen\, “appreciate your life” is a central teaching and it is certainly an important practice. The gift of life\, with all its beauty and sorrow\, is what we have. We tend to endlessly wish it was “better” but it’s a good practice to once in a while be grateful for just the amazing fact of it. But this other way\, the way of remembering that we are free of all kinds of suffering that we could be undergoing and/or have undergone is also good. \nThat’s my thought for the day. \n—Howard Thoresen \n* \nDear Johnny\, \nSome time ago you were kind enough to send us a copy of Ashley Lucas’s “Prison Theatre” book\, for which I sent you a brief thank-you note. Since then I have had   \nthe opportunity to read the book in more depth and realized how much of your \nprison work is discussed. Voodoo Doughnut’s contribution is discussed\, as well as that of the Smith Foundation. \nHowever her book is not all about love and roses. Page 146 points out that some of the women inmates [in Eve Ensler’s writing class] had killed people\, taken actual lives\, which makes evident that all life\, particularly including prison life\, is often filled with ambiguities and heartfelt remorse for past actions and a need for new beginnings. \nZen philosophy speaks to this concept: Always be a beginner\, always start with a fresh mind. Few concepts may be as important to success  in prison reform as new beginnings. \nPeace and Love\, \n—Jerry Smith \n* \nMichel Deforge has been meditating deeply on Your True Home\, and keeping an (almost) daily journal. Below are just a few of his meditations. (JS) \nAIMLESSNESS \nWhat an idea! I already contain God\, I am God (in flesh). I have everything I need to fulfill my destiny/purpose in this life—it’s already present here in “me\,” now.  I don’t need to strive to be/become anything or anyone! I am already perfected\, right now. The only “problem”/“challenge” I face is accepting this reality instead of spinning stories from the ego about being “less than” all this. I don’t stop being the flower\, I stop striving\, against “myself”; to become what I already am. Some days this acceptance is easier said than done. I suspect the challenges arise when “I” listen to ego’s stories and to all the nonsense (noise) from the ego of others. The only voice I need to hear\, like a clarion\, is the voice of God within—already complete\, already perfect\, already fully present in this place/time (now). \n* \nI AM HERE FOR YOU \nI started today’s musings early\, got distracted\, listening to my cellie tell his tales\, and now I am back. I like the ideal I see at the core: life’s purpose. I may not fully grasp how or why “I” am here now\, but I can be open to moments as they occur—“you.” (There is a hint of reciprocity\, but I find that too ego-centric a thought to fully allow.) My “you” can be anyone/anything as Thich Nhat Hanh points out—self\, now\, other(s). My thoughts now wander. If I (all of us) approach life from this vantage: “I am here for you\,” what would life\, “this” world be like\, or how different would it be? I see this modeled by Johnny\, Jude\, Dick\, Kristen\, Jake\, Sarah\, Bill\, Deborah—ALL our OHOM friends and volunteers\, each in their own unique and special way. I have tried and failed at this on occasion. I wonder\, is this a deliberate act or a skill to cultivate\, or\, is it a mindset for life\, being open to this moment (now) and what- or whomever is present\, as part of the moment\, for “me” to be present myself to only this now and all it contains? I like the mental openness\, opposed to the striving (grasping?) to do or control; but\, just letting be as is… \n* \nFOUNDATION OF LOVE \nI agree with this day’s sentiment; yet I know that it is also hard to do at times. Maybe if I can learn (remember) that there is no “you” or “me” (duality) and begin to see everything as a part or piece of the One\, All-existent\, then maybe it will seem less challenging to love “self\,” since the One is love and we (I) are all part of (included within) that One. I suspect the delusion of duality\, believing “I” exist separate from “you” and the All-that-is\, leads to selfishness. “I” must protect “me.” Breaking down ego can help [me] see that I and you are part of unity. If I can love you\, then I can love me\, and as I learn to love me better then I can love you better too. I love you! \n* \nEMBRACE THEM WITH GREAT TENDERNESS \n….I also enjoyed/related to Aaron’s ideas about feeling lack of worth\, as a traumatized child\, insecure and uncertain. Are there not times to be tender toward self/other and allow the feeling flow\, while reminding self that\, “Yes\, I am worth the ‘good’ I experience and the ‘bad’ is just suffering over aversions I haven’t yet LET GO. Maybe? I wonder\, what child-hurt left myself\, Aaron\, or others with this scar of doubt? How do we (can we or anyone) heal this harm? Is it preventable? I hope! \n—Michel Deforge \n* \nKatie sent a letter from Thich Nhat Hanh and a poem by Juan Felipe Herrera. (JS) \nTomorrow [10/11/20] is Thich Nhat Hanh’s birthday.  It is a gift to be able to share together around Thay’s words and his own practice.  Below is a copy of what he posted yesterday on the importance of loving our Home\, Mother Earth—for peace\, world peace. \n  \nA LETTER TO THE EARTH \n  \nDear Mother Earth \n  \nEvery time I step upon the Earth\, I will train myself to see that I am walking on you. Every time I place my feet on the Earth\, I have a chance to be in touch with you and with all your wonders. With every step I can touch the fact that you aren’t just beneath me\, dear Mother\, but you are also within me. Each mindful and gentle step can nourish me\, heal me\, and bring me into contact with myself and you in the present moment. \n  \nWalking in this spirit\, I can experience awakening\, I can awaken to the fact that I am alive and that life is a precious miracle. \nI can awaken to the fact that I am never alone and can never die. You are always there within me and around me at every step\, nourishing me\, embracing me\, and carrying me far into the future. \n  \nDear Mother\, I make the promise today to return your love and fulfill this wish by investing every step I take on you with love and tenderness. I am walking not merely on matter\, but on spirit. \n  \nThich Nhat Hanh \n* \n  \nBasho & Mandela  \n  \nAs Basho has said— \nit is a narrow road to the Deep North—as Mandela has said \nthe haphazard segregation later became a well-orchestrated \nsegregation \n—as Basho has said the journey began with an attained \nawareness \nthat at any moment you can become a weather-exposed skeleton \n—think of us in this manner \nthese are notes for your nourishment—hold them \nas bowls of kindness \nfrom journeys of bravery \nthe will to seek & find the sudden turning rivers & the dawn-eyed \n    freedom \n  \n—Juan Felipe Herrera \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \nWithin the Window Frame is an exercise or project that I adapted from a friend who is an artist and who uses it in her Nature Journaling art classes. Here we are going to use it as a focusing and centering process. We can use writing with this activity\, drawing\, singing\, collage\, etc. The methods of “filling the window frame” are not limited to any one mode. \nFirst choose a frame size\, maybe one like a big hardback book\, maybe one like a small paperback—either cut out the frame from paper or cardboard to use or imagine the size. Then choose something to concentrate on that is near at hand—what is right in front of you in your room\, on your table\, even out your window. It can be a person or two\, an object (your sandwich or meal\, a purse\, etc.). \nNext look at it\, in real life or in your imagination\, with fuzzed eyes. Don’t look for specifics. Try and see outlines\, colors\, or emotions. Try this for a few minutes being open to the essence of the situation. \nFinally start filling the frame\, putting into the window what you see\, and that can be either physically or emotionally what you see. \nMaybe start with words—a haiku\, a short poem\, or just the most vivid and necessary words. Then jump to a short story. \nOr try drawing in cartoon images. Then maybe a drawing that is as detailed as you can make it. \nAfter doing one of “filling in the window frame” try another\, maybe do a few each day. See if you can notice a pattern or see a direction revealing itself. Or maybe just a mood or feeling common to one day\, either in your mind or in the situation around you. \nThis project is a process through which we can begin to see our world and ourselves in more focused and attentive ways\, through words or images or both. This is one way of meditating on your world and your outlook—not that they are so very separate!! After awhile you will see threads of connection and understanding. \nMaybe you can keep these windows as a journal of your experiences. Maybe come back to them as small frames of insight into an otherwise busy time. \nEnjoy.  \n—Deborah Buchanan \n* \n“Rather than love\, than money\, than fame\, give me truth. I sat at a table where were rich food and wine in abundance\, an obsequious attendance\, but sincerity and truth were not; and I went away hungry from the inhospitable board. The hospitality was as cold as the ices.” \n—from Walden by Henry David Thoreau (quote sent by Jake Green) \n* \nI have been thinking about the power of love lately. We are in some unprecedented times with covid\, the wildfires and all the civil unrest. It is a powerful thing to see communities come together and help their neighbors when they are down and feeling lonely and lost. The stories you hear of people who have lost homes due to the fires or loved ones from covid\, there are just as many positive stories of neighbors or strangers stepping up to help ease their pain. It can be just a simple sign that tells the first responders how much they are appreciated and to see their reaction when the street is filled with people holding signs and telling them that they love them. I can tell you first hand\, recently returned from the fire lines\, that after working days on end and feeling tired and burned out\, then having people honk their horn and yell their appreciation—it gives you strength to carry on. \nLove can come from some very unexpected places when you least expect it and you may need it the most. It is an amazing thing that people are out there that care for their fellow humans. Even when the love might not be directed at you personally\, to see others loving others\, like I talk about above\, can have a huge impact on people. Reading all of your words and the newsletters has been great. When I see that type of thing it makes me want to be a better\, more loving and compassionate person. It is infectious. \nI recently lost my father who was killed in a tragic motor vehicle accident. He was my rock and I was so looking forward to spending time with him when I got home. I tried to be strong at first\, but I started to slip into a very lonely dark place within a month. Nothing made sense and I felt fearful. Then I started to get unexpected support from the community where I grew up. A friend from the past reached out to me and we have been speaking ever since. Their love and support has seen me through the worst of it\, and I am feeling excited again about going home and continuing my father’s legacy. Love is a beautiful thing and it knows when you need it most\, how others’ compassion and understanding can bring you through dark times and make you feel hopeful again. Neat! Let’s all keep loving one another for the sake of those that may not know they need it. \n—Aaron Gilbert \n* \n#53   When You Argue with the One You Love \nIn my past\, when I have argued with the ones I love I always felt like I wanted to just be a million miles in any direction away from them. A lot of my childhood was filled with the ones I loved fighting and arguing. It scared me then and it scares me to this day. When it is all said and done I really just want all of us to be happy\, and when I imagine being 300 years away from the one I love\, well…the content of any argument is not worth it. I would rather forgive everyone that ever hurt or wronged me\, and replace the hate with love and joy and kindness—and fill the argument with peace and love. To forgive is to live in love\, to do this is the key to peace\, and to have peace is to allow the seeds of love to grow. \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \nWell\, that’s a wrap for our second Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue. Lovely! \nThe next one will come out on November 15th. It’s a conversation. It goes to just over a dozen people who live in prison and just over two dozen people who don’t. Please write or email me with your contributions. You can respond to what someone else has written\, use a poem or text for inspiration\, share a poem you’ve written\, or your own ruminations. \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in love. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-10-15-20-11-14-20/
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