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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210708
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210722
DTSTAMP:20260427T180928
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SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  7/8/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nDREAMS OF BETTER WORLDS \n  \nJuly 8\, 2021 \n  \nI once asked my friend Howard Thoresen what he thought the future would be like. “Like the present\,” he said. \n  \nIn the drawings above\, the artist Robert Crumb gives three versions of the future of the same street corner. In the first\, everything is more-or-less dead. The second is a high-tech future\, with flying cars. The third is a hippie ecotopian future. One of the things I think Howard was getting at is that all three of these “futures” exist right now. Somewhere there’s a terrible drought and the crops have died. Somewhere there’s a city where tall skyscrapers have skins of mirrored glass. And somewhere someone is riding her bike to the organic vegetable market. \n  \nIn movies and popular culture dystopian visions abound. Back in the Hippie Days\, before the Internet\, we had a Bible of Hope known as The Whole Earth Catalog. On the cover\, it had a picture of our planet as seen from space. \n  \nIn the Fifties\, in America\, World War Two was over and many people dreamed of raising a happy family—like the ones on TV—in their house in the suburbs\, with a two-car garage and an automatic washer and dryer. A company advertised: PROGRESS IS OUR MOST IMPORTANT PRODUCT. The idea was that things were better than they had ever been\, and they would just keep getting better and better. \n  \nAround 1970\, we got the Bad News. Ecologists told us that there were too many people on the planet for its “carrying capacity.” Plant and animal species were becoming extinct. Forests were being cut down\, topsoil was being exhausted and eroded\, fresh water sources were being depleted. Factories were poisoning the air\, the soil and the rivers. The climate was changing. The trajectory we were on\, they said\, was not taking us to a better place\, but to a worse one. \n  \nThis came as quite a shock. All our stories had told us that humanity was ascending from a state where life was “nasty\, brutish and short” to a more and more civilized\, more and more “modern” one\, where all our problems would be abolished by rational problem solving\, economic prosperity and technological progress. \n  \nOne of the thinkers featured in the Whole Earth Catalog was R. Buckminster Fuller\, the inventor of the geodesic dome\, and a “futurist.” He wrote a book called Utopia or Oblivion. These\, he said\, were our options. He said that he didn’t find the subject of oblivion very interesting\, so he spent his life trying to figure out how\, together\, we could “make the world work.” He said he had done the math\, and it was quite possible for everyone on this planet to have enough to eat and a place to live. We could educate all the children and provide health care for everyone. \n  \nIt makes you wonder: why aren’t we doing that? \n  \nWhen we go camping\, we’re supposed to leave the campsite better than we found it. Individually and collectively\, we would like to do that with our planet. One problem is that we can never give an adequate answer to the question: “What’s going on here?” There’s always too much going on at every moment. I don’t know what’s happening in my backyard right now. What are all the worms up to? And everything is always growing and changing—within me and around me. \n  \nAnother difficulty is that people have different ideas about what the most important problems are and about how things could be improved. Each of us has our own utopian dreams. \n  \nIn The Tempest\, while Gonzalo puts forward his ideas of what he would do if he was king of the island\, hecklers are busy finding all the flaws in his Big Idea: \n  \nGONZALO \nHad I plantation of this isle\, my lord\,– \nANTONIO \nHe’ld sow’t with nettle-seed. \nSEBASTIAN \nOr docks\, or mallows. \nGONZALO \nAnd were the king on’t\, what would I do? \nSEBASTIAN \n‘Scape being drunk for want of wine. \nGONZALO \nI’ the commonwealth I would by contraries \nExecute all things; for no kind of traffic \nWould I admit; no name of magistrate; \nLetters should not be known; riches\, poverty\, \nAnd use of service\, none; contract\, succession\, \nBourn\, bound of land\, tilth\, vineyard\, none; \nNo use of metal\, corn\, or wine\, or oil; \nNo occupation; all men idle\, all; \nAnd women too\, but innocent and pure; \nNo sovereignty;– \nSEBASTIAN \nYet he would be king on’t. \nANTONIO \nThe latter end of his commonwealth forgets the \nbeginning. \nGONZALO \nAll things in common nature should produce \nWithout sweat or endeavour: treason\, felony\, \nSword\, pike\, knife\, gun\, or need of any engine\, \nWould I not have; but nature should bring forth\, \nOf its own kind\, all foison\, all abundance\, \nTo feed my innocent people. \nSEBASTIAN \nNo marrying ‘mong his subjects? \nANTONIO \nNone\, man; all idle: whores and knaves. \nGONZALO \nI would with such perfection govern\, sir\, \nTo excel the golden age. \nSEBASTIAN \nGod save his majesty! \nANTONIO \nLong live Gonzalo! \n* \n  \nIn Joyce’s Ulysses\, Leopold Bloom fantasizes about being an eloquent politician: \n  \nBLOOM \n  \nI stand for the reform of municipal morals and the plain ten commandments. New worlds for old. Union of all\, jew\, moslem and gentile. Three acres and a cow for all children of nature. Saloon motor hearses. Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the public day and night. Electric dishscrubbers. Tuberculosis\, lunacy\, war and mendicancy must now cease. General amnesty\, weekly carnival with masked licence\, bonuses for all\, esperanto the universal language with universal brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors. Free money\, free rent\, free love and a free lay church in a free lay state. \n  \nShakespeare and Joyce are having fun with our proclivity to imagine ourselves in charge of everyone and everything. \n  \nThe protagonist of Dostoevsky’s short story “Dream of a Ridiculous Man\,” is depressed. He wants to find the right day to commit suicide. He falls asleep in his chair and dreams that he travels through space to a planet just like Earth—except that everything there is perfect. Everyone there is happy. They love each other. They love the animals. They talk to the trees. In his dream\, the unfortunate narrator corrupts that world. Things get worse and worse\, until it resembles our own. When he wakes from the dream\, he wants to live! He feels that his mission in life is to convince everyone that we need to love each other. He is certain that if we could do that our world would become a Paradise. \n  \nParadises and utopias come in all shapes and sizes. A perfect moment is Paradise. When we write a poem or paint a picture\, we create a perfect little world. \n  \nThe philosopher Wittgenstein contrasted the idea of “the world” with the idea of “my world.” It’s fun to ponder this distinction. If you wanted to change the world for the better\, it would be quite hard to do because it’s so big and there are so many forces in play. But my world—the world as I experience it—changes from day to day. We create a new world from moment to moment. A happy person lives in a friendly world. An angry person lives in a world full of adversaries. We create our own Heaven. Or Hell. We can see the kind of world Marc Chagall lived in by looking at his paintings. \n  \nPeople have imagined that Paradise existed sometime long ago\, or will arrive at some time in the distant Future. Maybe after we die—if we’re good. Hesiod spoke of a long-ago Golden Age\, when people were happy\, lived long\, and didn’t have to work. In the Bible\, our first parents lived in a Garden until they were kicked out for disobedience. Karl Marx believed that some day a casteless\, classless society would be ushered in\, and all would be well. Paradise is always elsewhere. \n  \nIn contrast to this story\, Thich Nhat Hanh says: “The present moment is a wonderful moment.” I don’t have to wait for The End of War in the world\, in order to abolish the conflict within myself. I could live in Love right now. It’s not against the law. \n  \nOne of my favorite books is The Big Orange Splot by Daniel Pinkwater. In it\, one day a seagull drops a bucket of orange paint on the roof of Mr. Plumbean’s house. Instead of fixing the problem\, Mr. Plumbean painted his house to look like all his dreams.  \n  \nIt reminds me of the colorful\, wildly imaginative architecture of Gaudi and Hundertwasser.  \n  \nThe Mexican muralists Rivera\, Orozco and Siqueros painted walls in Mexico\, and inspired thousands of people to do likewise around the world. \n  \nThanks to YouTube\, we can tour the barn of the Bread & Puppet Theater in Glover\, Vermont \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OV232D962pE \n  \nor the home of the clown Slava Polunin in France \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yy9DqXzGEAI&t=12s \n  \nor accompany Dr. John “Slomo” Kitchin as he skates along the sidewalks of San Diego \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xn87-mcnoVc \n  \nMaybe Paradise is not far away. Maybe we’re in it right now.
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-7-8-21/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210715
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210815
DTSTAMP:20260427T180928
CREATED:20210716T153424Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210716T153546Z
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SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  7/15/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \n July 15\, 2021 \n  \nRhyming With Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \n1 \nOnce upon a cloudy day \na wandering poet lost his way \na busy yard-sale he passed by \ndrew him back\, he wondered why \nBrowsing through a battered trunk \nhe found a book by a Buddhist monk \nThich Nhat Hanh was the writer’s name \ninterconnection\, his basic game \nthe young man skimmed in search of clues \na garden of thoughts\, so many to choose \nthe path being offered was simple but steep \nand spelling that name\, a Grand Canyon leap \nmost daunting of all was rhyming that name \nfor a poet\, perhaps\, the ultimate shame \nsuddenly hungry and ready to roam \nhe put down the book and started for home \nWhen he got to the sidewalk the poet could tell \nhis sense of direction was not doing well \nthe sun was now setting\, the clouds darker gray \nit was not a good time to be losing his way \na man from the yard sale saw his distress \nand showed him a bus that would pass his address \nslumped in a seat as the bus took him home \nhe feared he might never again write a poem \nthen he thought of the book that he found in the trunk \nand wished he had spent more time with the monk \nThat night the poet fell into a dream \nthe moon deep blue\, the sky rich cream \na brindle cat\, in a bare black oak \nwas playing a fiddle with a lively stroke \nin a dark red vest and odd shaped hat \nhe swayed as he fiddled on the limb where he sat \nabove the tree\, in the cream colored sky \napproaching the moon\, was a cow who could fly \nA gasp escaped from the poet’s throat \nthe music stopped on a jagged note \nthe soaring bovine paused mid-air \nthe fiddling cat conjured a glare \n  \n2 \nWhat is your problem\, poetry man? \nDid something happen that’s not in your plan’? \nAs the poet described his rhyming confusion \nThe cat cut in with a crisp conclusion \nYou can’t find a rhyme for Thich Nhat Hanh? \nPoetry man\, you’re putting me on \nBy now the cow had cleared the moon \nand sang a sympathetic tune \nEasy\, cat\, he’s flesh and bone \nhe thinks\, in life\, he’s all alone \nwith broken compass and hobbled rhyme \nhis sails are empty on the sea of time \nThe cat tipped back his pork pie hat \nwith stingy brim and crown so flat \nOf course you’re right\, dear nimble cow \nhe’s everywhere but here and now \nrhyme adds power to a tale \nlike the gust of wind that fills a sail \nand rhymes add balance but aren’t essential \nto celebrate this world’s potential \nThich Nhat Hanh has an open vision \nhe honors the world’s unseen precision \nfor example\, in a sheet of paper \nhe sees a cloud of water vapor \nwithout rain there’d be no trees \nno trees\, no paper\, if you please \nAs the cow was gliding back to earth \nthe poet admired her supple girth \nshe wasn’t slender\, nor even trim \nbut she moved with ease and bovine vim \nher coat light brown\, with islands white \nthe streak on her forehead\, a comet in flight \ntouching down near the big black oak \nshe flicked her tail and again she spoke \nThat sheet of paper is a fine example \nof endless connections we might sample \nlook more closely and straightaway \nyou’ll see the sunshine of the day \n  \n3 \nwith no sunshine\, we all know\, \nthere’s no way a tree can grow \nso in this simple paper sheet \nrain and sun and tree all meet \nThe cat chimed in so calm and cool \nlike he was sunning by a pool \nAs we savor these connections \nwe open out in all directions \nand though the parts may seem diverse: \nthe earth\, the stars\, the universe \neverything that we perceive \nis in the universal weave \nLike a water lily in the sun \nglowing\, growing\, we are one \nThe poet smiled\, for he could see \nthat lily floating full and free \nhe took a breath\, he heard a cough \nhis darned alarm was going off \nHe hit the snooze and tried to think \nhis brain a frozen skating rink \ngone the guiding conversation \noozing back\, the deep frustration \nno words of cat or even cow \nto keep him in the here and now \nand still no rhyme for Thich Nhat Hanh \nhow could a poet carry on? \nBut . . . something has been gently changed \nhis rhyming pathway rearranged \nthe porkpie cat and comet cow  \nhave clarified his course somehow \nand though they live inside a dream \nthe gifts they offer flow downstream \nwith new connections comes a dawn \nrevealing rhymes with Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \n—Nick Eldredge\, 2020 \nnickeld109@gmail.com \n* \n  \nHere are some excerpts from Michel’s meditation journal. The numbers refer to meditations in Thich Nhat Hanh’s book\, Your True Home: \n  \nJune 14\, 2021  #143  Everyone Smiles \n  \nIt’s a lovely sentiment\, one I hope can be true. It’s a Butterfly Effect moment: “Smile and the whole world smiles with you.” Or\, so it’s been said. There are times when smiling is just damn hard to do. Or\, I just don’t wanna do it! But\, a truth is that if I smile—shake myself up a little and struggle through my pain\, to smile from my toes—others will smile back \, genuinely happy to be see and be seen. We can alter our minds’ courses\, as well as our emotional states. Smiling is one of the positive ways. So\, if you see someone smiling\, look at him or her—(wonder to yourself: what’s going on?)—and\, while making eye contact\, share in their smile. And\, when you find one who has no smile of his or her own\, again\, looking deeply at them\, smile your warmest\, most compassionate\, well-wishing smile. (It’s instinctive to smile back to a genuine smile.) It’s hard not to chortle and smile as I write these thoughts of smiling\, sharing smiles\, and just being happy. It’s a choice each of us is allowed to make. Doing so makes the world better\, even for a brief painful moment\, just for the price of one simple\, genuine\, loving\, compassionate smile shared\, intentionally or not\, with the world around. (It makes everyone look better!) \n* \n  \nJune 20\, 2021  #149  When Strong Emotions Arise  —  Happy Father’s Day! \n  \nI can really use this one; last night I was racked with deep grief as I have never felt grief or sadness before. I still haven’t a clue as to why. It just came over me as I began my evening prayer service\, and caused deep overwhelming sadness. It lasted for minutes. An eternity that might not end\, I thought. I knew I didn’t want to stop it\, but breathe through the experience. At the same time I found judgement about self-indulgence—how protracted grief can be self-indulgent. I don’t know\, but there it was—a self-induced indictment for “being” (acting) self-indulgent with an experience (and display?) of deep grief of unknown/undefined origin. \n  \nEventually\, a focus on the breath did calm the overwhelm. Even now I can sense this same sadness just below the surface of attention\, as if it rests just below my skin. I can’t bring it to surface just now\, yet I am aware of its presence as part of my being. I accept it as part of me and for reasons (deep past pain\, maybe?) unknown just now\, I don’t know its origin or cause. Maybe I’ll experience it again\, or not. When I do “feel” it again I can rest with it\, breathe and release a need to define or judge it. \n  \nIf I attempt to resist\, restrain\, or even fight back the tears\, I’ll only end up suffering a worse mess than if I allow the sensations to run their course through this body. I hope to have enough presence of mind to relax and observe what is coming up\, as I also focus on breathing. I can allow curiosity\, yet I’ll not want to push too hard or the critical self will arise and condemn\, adding to the grief and suffering\, instead of allowing it to be what it is\, and (eventually) to reveal its source and originating cause—it could be related to childhood traumas\, grief for lost innocence\, or time lost from not bonding with my father (who may not live to see my scheduled release date: he’s 85 now.) \n  \nWhat will matter is how I do/don’t allow myself and the body to experience these feelings\, sensations\, emotions when they arise again. If I fight\, it will only be more powerful the next time\, with the added sensations of the self-battle for restraint and any new emotions about that strong feeling arising. By fighting it\, instead of letting it be\, I see that I create a past-future tether which pulls at me to not be in the now. It prevents the strength and healing needed to allow this to arise again and for me to just be with myself as it happens\, allowing the senses to be part of my now—breathing “quietly\,” “calmly”—looking with compassionate curiosity at what came up\, not needing to define or judge\, but just to be. \n* \n  \nJune 21\, 2021  #148  Fearless Bodhisattvas \n  \nIt would be nice to be “fearless.” I guess once I transcend attachment and aversion I can be a help to others on their journey out of suffering. It’s next-level stuff\, as some may say. To me it seems important to keep this suffering of others in mind\, not to take it on\, but\, maybe\, to join them under their burden and in doing so lighten their suffering\, even for a moment\, so they can get a glimpse of Reality as it is. Maybe not. It could mean something totally different. \n* \n  \nJune 22\, 2021  #150  The Arhat \n  \nFinally! Recognition for doing “nothing.” I find it very easy\, even in here\, to get caught up with being busy\, doing stuff—it’s important\, mind you\, just ask and when I have the time I’ll let you know how busy I am with all of my importance. I find it sad that\, as a culture\, we value packing and cramming each and every moment of a day with stuff. Sure it’s important\, and we want to make the most of the few moments we have left. But\, wouldn’t it be nice to breathe\, relax and just enjoy each moment as it passes before us—instead of working and struggling to “do”—and make the most of a moment we can’t get back. And then\, suffering for not enjoying the moment more fully. I find it scary how familiar this sounds to me. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \n                       Song Sparrow \n                    Melospiza melodia \n  \nThicket hidden\, choir of one\, message invisible  \nsent to pierce my invisible spirit\, how do you  \nknow me so well to tune your secrets to my own? \n  \nDenizen of thorn and shadow\, you yet sing  \nsilver clear\, flit\, flurry\, and disappear\, \nleaving your psalms in me. \n  \nThis ministry\, gospel of the good by hint  \nand revelation\, begins in your breath to fill  \nthe sky\, unruly syllables of song salvation. \n  \nSparrow\, let our bargain be: You remind me  \nof the covenant between wild and human life\, \nand your thicket I will defend. \n* \n  \n    Midrash on a Sacred Encounter \n  \nWhen the little ones gathered at my feet \nthey couldn’t stop laughing every time \nI spoke a poem\, as if they were wild birds \nand I scattered seed for their singing and singing\, \nsinging back to my songs and stories\, and they  \nfed me questions as old as psalms: How long  \ndoes it take to write a poem… what’s the longest  \npoem… who taught you poems… what’s  \nthe oldest poem… what’s oldest  \ninside a poem…what is a poem  \nand what is not? \n  \nThen they laughed and clapped \nand I bowed and felt blessed \nand we went out into sunlight \nand all went forth to heal the world. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nTo love is the greatest thing in life; it is very important to talk about love\, to feel it\, to nourish it\, to treasure it\, otherwise it will be dissipated\, for the world is very brutal. If while you are young you don’t feel love\, if you don’t look with love at people\, at animals\, at flowers\, when you grow up you find that your life is empty; you will be very lonely\, and the dark shadows of fear will follow you always. But the moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth\, the delight\, the ecstasy of it\, you will discover that for you the world is transformed. \n  \nKatie Radditz sent this quote from J. Krishnamurti (1895-1986) \n* \n  \nThe state of wordlessness can be elusive. When we talk about it\, we use words. Try this baby meditation and see what happens. Imagine that you are a baby\, newly arrived on Planet Earth. You look around. You have no words for anything. Nothing you see has a name. You don’t know words like “meditation\,” “mindfulness\,” “breath\,” “thought\,” “present\,” or “moment.” You don’t know who you are. You have no name. You don’t have any regrets. You don’t have any plans for the future. You don’t have any problems. You don’t know what’s going on—but it’s extremely interesting! \n  \n(Typing this dialogue up at a coffee shop\, just now my the nonstop love-in baseball cap elicited this question from a guy: “Where is it?” To which I replied: “It’s here. It’s now. It’s everywhere and always.”) \n  \nIf you are a reader of the Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, please consider submitting something in time for the August issue\, which comes out on August 15th. August 17th is my 70th birthday. You could do it as  your birthday present to me. It would make me happy. \n  \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in peace and love. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-7-15-21/
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