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SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  5/4/23
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nBOOKS THAT CHANGED THE WAY YOU SEE THE WORLD \n  \nMay 4\, 2023 \n  \nWhen I first read Christina Stead’s The Man Who Loved Children\, I realized that literature could be even more powerful than I had known. Powerful enough in this novel to make me feel acute embarrassment\, shame\, and humiliation–unsavory\, and unforgettable emotions. It was\, in that sense\, one of the most unpleasant books that I have ever read–but I suffered those ugly emotions because I was in empathic thrall to the characters\, which was thrilling. Christina Stead had such power over me that she could compel me to keep reading even against my own will. Sixty years later\, the book stays with me. \n  \n—Ken Margolis \n* \n  \nThe Skull Mantra by Eliot Pattison \n  \nAs the first book in the Inspector Shan series this book gave me a glimpse into the history and current status of the relationship between Tibet and China. It also gave a different perspective on Tibetan Buddhism\, a more human practical one\, and it opened me to a world of beliefs deeply different from those I had learned about in the West. \n  \nThere are ten books in this series. \n  \nWhen I first met Andrew\, he had an “Endlessly Connected” bumper stick on his car that was flanked by two Meander Knots. A simple design\, the endless knot iconography symbolizes samsara—the endless cycle of suffering of birth\, death\, and rebirth within Tibetan Buddhism. The intertwining of wisdom and compassion. Also\, the Interplay and interaction of the opposing forces in the dualistic world of manifestation\, leading to their union\, and ultimately to harmony in the universe. \n  \nThe books have a starkness to them. As mysteries they are dark and sometimes brutal\, but the characters\, particularly the lamas have stuck around in my head since encountering them. Andrew and I read them at approximately the same time\, sharing tidbits and references and when it came time to name our poetry press\, little magazine and open mic\, Meander Knot was the obvious choice. \n  \nWe even got identical tattoos as both a branding exercise but also an expression of perhaps a deeper connection between us and the possible connection over more than one lifetime. \n  \nAnd then\, when I started teaching yoga\, I called the business “Meander Yoga”. The endless knot is not featured specifically in the books\, (although I suspect it is mentioned. I am planning on re-reading them this year and will find out) it symbolizes to me the deep cultural richness in the books and how that richness has enhanced both my spiritual\, but also my artistic life.   \n  \n—Elizabeth Domike \n* \n  \nHi Johnny! \n  \nThere are so many books that have changed me and/or inspired me but the one that comes to the top of my mind is Hope for the Flowers. I’ve read this book so many times and have shared it with so many people. It’s such a sweet and simple illustration of transformation but also of embracing who you are right now.  \n  \nOn a totally different note\, I remember reading Johnny Got His Gun for the first time and being in awe. It was the first time I really sat and pondered what it means to be human and what makes life worth living.  \n  \nOh\, and of course\, Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth! \n  \nI’ll stop before I start listing 100 books.  \n  \n—Nicole Rush \n* \n  \nThe Mahabharata retold by William Buck \n  \nI first thought Peter Brooke read this. \nI found it falling apart in a free box or a yard sale. \nI found I couldn’t read it. \nIt sat on the bookshelf for a couple of years. I kept an eye on it. \n  \nOne morning in Parkrose neighborhood\, on a north deck\, watching the planes glide in over the trees and rooftops\, following the river west to PDX\, I saw the sun was shining after endless rain. \nA cup of coffee was there\, and the time had come to open the book of wonder. \n  \n—Charles Erickson \n* \n  \nbeautiful morning\, Johnny. good question! \n  \nI immediately thought about how I felt after reading Green Mansions by William Henry Hudson. I had never had an English teacher in High School assign anything like it to read. I think I was the only one in the class who liked it or even read it. So for one thing it forged a bond with my fascinating lovely teacher. \n  \nMainly it opened up a world of wonder about the wild\, where savage had the meaning of wild/wyld people in a forest wilderness unmitigated by modern civilization. It is about true freedom compared to that of the birds.   \n  \nHudson writes with a clear style that matches his view of beauty and wonder being the essence of life. It is a love story as well as a tragedy of what would come of nature.  \n  \nNow I’ve pulled it out to read once again. I had forgotten the main character’s name is Abel—my first son’s name! I think this story has stayed with me in my deep consciousness.  \n  \nIn the forward\, John Galsworthy wrote in 1918 that Hudson was the most valuable author of his Age. He says of  Hudson\, who was a naturalist as well as an author: “his nomadic records of communing with men (women)\, birds\, beasts\, and Nature\, has a supreme gift of disclosing not only the thing he sees but the spirit of his vision. Without apparent effort he takes you with him into a rare\, free\, natural world\, and always you are refreshed\, stimulated\, enlarged\, by going there.”  \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \nAbout ten years ago a good friend of mine urged me to read Nicholas and Alexandra\, by Robert Massie. I was reluctant\, because\, as I told her\, “I don’t do history.” She said\, “Well\, do!” I said that because up until then the only history I’d read had been high school and college textbooks. I’d read\, study\, take a test and then forget everything (hopefully in that order). I read hundreds and hundreds of novels from junior high school on—Stendhal\, Balzac\, Dickens\, Dostoevsky\, etc.—so it wasn’t for a lack of love of reading\, just no desire or aptitude for history. \n  \nBut I read Nicholas and Alexandra and loved it! It’s the story of the last czarist Romanov dynasty and its fall. I’d never known much about Rasputin\, but he figures in powerfully\, with the strange spell he held over Alexandra and her hemophiliac son\, Alexi. It was probably more biography than accounting of events. It led me to Peter the Great and Catherine the Great\, both of which were also biographical\, with dominion\, control\, conquest\, acquisition and rule over dozens of countries in that region threaded into their stories. \n  \nSo perhaps it’s biography rather than history that has opened up a new world of reading for me.  \n  \nIn that vein\, I also read American Prometheus\, the biography of J. Robert Oppenheimer\, “father of the atomic bomb.” Strange reading material\, eh? But he was such a brilliant polymath and was forever conflicted about how his genius was put to use.  \n  \nRight now\, it’s The Orientalist\, by Tom Reiss\, the life of Lev Nussimbaum\, a Jew who transformed himself into a Muslim prince and became a best selling author in Nazi Germany. It looks at the early 20th century and the origins of our ideas of race and religious self-definition\, and the beginning of modern fanaticism and terrorism.  \n  \nSo now it’s geography in addition to biography and history\, and I’m sitting with the big World Atlas and a magnifying glass\, scrutinizing Baku\, the capital of Azerbaijan\, the Caspian Sea\, the Caucasus\, Georgia\, Turkey… \n  \nTo wrap this up\, explorations in readings of geography\, biography\, and history have expanded my vision\, experience\, and understanding of the world in these last ten years\, thanks to my friend\, Nikki! (But I still love novels.) \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nAlice Miller’s book For Your Own Good: Hidden Cruelty in Childhood and the Roots of Violence changed the way I look at individual acts of violence and collective acts of violence—war. The basic thesis is simple: abusing children—physically\, psychologically\, emotionally\, sexually—wounds them. She says that when we grow up\, we unconsciously and compulsively re-enact the violence that was done to us. Randy Newman’s song “I want you to hurt like I do” sums it up. The violence can also be directed against ourselves. There’s more to the story than the idea that we are\, by our nature\, violent apes. We certainly have the potential for violence\, and we also have the potential to be loving and kind. It depends which seeds we water.  \n  \nIt follows from this that to the extent that we can be loving and kind to our children—instead of mean and cruel—the world will be transformed in positive ways. Conscious awareness of what we suffered and how it has affected us can help us to not act out the same things that were done to us. Her book helped me to better understand how “hurt people hurt people.” Instead of judging people for the suffering they’ve caused\, I want to know about the pain they’ve suffered. \n  \nSusan Griffin’s book Woman and Nature brought home to me the relentless way in which men have defined\, dominated and oppressed women over the centuries. Her book is also a visionary call for women’s (and men’s) emancipation from this tyranny. \n  \nAntler’s poem “Factory” changed the way I see the world around me. Having read the poem many years ago\, it still manages to regularly remind me that the paint on the walls\, the windows in the walls\, the lightbulbs\, the refrigerator\, the glasses on my nose\, the computer that I’m typing on—almost everything that surrounds me—was made by men and women working in (ugly\, noisy) factories (which pollute the air\, the water and the soil). \n  \nWalt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself” inspires me to see beauty everywhere\, to love everyone\, to be astonished by the miraculousness of everything I touch\, taste\, see\, or imagine. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nFOR YOUR OWN GOOD \nThanks for the reminder\, Johnny\, \nYou introduced me to that book ages ago\, and I carried it around with me for a long time. \nIt says lots about childhood and being treated as a child by adults who are very busy in their own sphere. \nIt has left a lasting impression on me. \nI’ll see if I can come up with another that has been useful as a life reference. \n  \n—Todd Oleson \n* \n  \nIn the recent Open Road letter you asked about life-changing books—or at least life-influencing ones. Many of the titles you sent me fall in this group. However\, due to space limits\, I’ve sent the most helpful ones home and forgotten the titles. Some others include: Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl\, Writing My Wrongs: Life\, Death\, and Redemption in an American Prison by Shaka Senghor\, The Master Plan: My Journey from Life in Prison to a Life of Purpose by Chris Wilson. I’m working through My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem—a bit “woke\,” but still has relevance. Homecoming: Reclaiming and Championing Your Inner Child by John Bradshaw. Mmm…I’ll have to come back to this. \n  \nThere’s a small-ish list of books I hope to read this next year—after ordering\, of course. Some may trigger comments and feedback for others I’ll need/want to read\, or even avoid: 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene\, How to Talk to Anyone by Leil Lowndes\, something by W.E.B. Du Bois [his two most well-known books are The Souls of Black Folk and Autobiography of W.E.B. Du Bois—ed.]\, Hillbilly Elegy by J. D. Vance\, Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates\, Ordinary Magic: Resilience in Development by Ann S. Masten\, Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving by Pete Walker\, Say What You Mean: A Mindful Approach to Nonviolent Communication by Oren Jay Sofer\, and Nonviolent Communication by Marshall Rosenberg. \n  \nOh\, The Body Keeps Score by Bessel van der Kolk\, on trauma—this was helpful. So many helpful books\, and all the best are at home. This is great for when I get out (15+ years)\, not great for now. Oh\, and I have crossed the halfway on April 9th: 50% done\, 15¾ years left. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \nDear Reader \n  \nNext month (June 1st)\, our theme is Peace. \nSend me something. \n  \npeace & love \nJohnny \n  \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-5-4-23/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20230515
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20230615
DTSTAMP:20260426T051654
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SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  5/15/23
DESCRIPTION:  \nMay 15\, 2023 \n  \nLet your heart speak to others’ hearts. \n—tag on Yogi Tea bag \n  \n                Gandhi Returns \n  \nAs if he had said enough in life\, he uttered  \nnot a word where we stood in the station  \nin my dream\, only a stillness in the bustle  \nall around us. Instead\, he listened\, turning  \nhis bright young face in welcome to every  \ntraveler as they made speeches of their own.  \nA mother told of her son\, and in Gandhi’s eyes  \nthe boy was hero. I told him how Ali in Tehran \nhad written me that poetry is oxygen\, and in  \nMahatma’s eyes\, this was a truth no gun  \ncould injure. One by one he summoned \nwitness from each pilgrim. Then\, smiling\,  \nin his folds of pale cotton he helped us  \nstruggle with our luggage onto the steaming  \ntrain. And when I turned\, I saw he had none. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nAlex Tretbar sent two translations of a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke—showing what a big difference a translator’s choices make. He prefers the Robert Bly version: \n  \nPALM \n  \nInterior of the hand. Sole that has come to walk \nonly on feelings. That faces upward \nand in its mirror \nreceives heavenly roads\, which travel \nalong themselves. \nThat has learned to walk upon water \nwhen it scoops\, \nthat walks upon wells\, \ntransfiguring every path. \nThat steps into other hands\, \nchanges those that are like it \ninto a landscape: \nwanders and arrives within them\, \nfills them with arrival. \n  \n—translated by Stephen Mitchell \n  \nPALM OF THE HAND \n  \nPalm of the hand. Sole that walks now \nonly on feeling. It turns over\, \nbecomes a mirror\, \nshows sky roads\, which \nthemselves are walking. \nIt has learned to walk on water\, \nwhen it dips down\, \nmoves on springs\, \ncauses all roads to fork. \nComes forward into other palms\, \nthose like itself \nturn into a countryside\, \nthrough them it travels and arrives\, \nfills them with having arrived. \n  \n—translated by Robert Bly \n* \n  \nI saw lots of Jet trails in the blue sky gaily criss-crossing \nand wondered how many of us might be able to see them. \nThen this poem\, that our beloved friend and  Zen teacher  \nBob Schaibly liked\, popped into my mind.   \n  \nLove Note \n  \nLet us hire a hundred planes \nStuff them with hot cotton smoke \nAnd write white poetry on the paper of the sky. \nLet the ant people on the hot summer beaches look up squinting \nRead feathery descriptions of your lips\, \nTraced by the sky writers. \n  \nWe’ll pick a calm noontime\, \nSun pressing wrinkles out of the steamy sea \nSky flat\, receptive. \n“Love\,” I’ll write\, and “mouth\,” and silver words. \n“Cling\,” I’ll write\, and “Stars\,” and oh\, don’t worry. \nThe words will all come easily enough. \nIt’s the idea that matters. \n  \nThen I’ll fly up in the highest plane’ \nAnd jump and parachute right through \nThe O in the word “Love” \nAnd land in your backyard\, \nAnd kiss you – home again. \n  \n—Joseph Siebel \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \nAnd a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels… \n—Walt Whitman\, Song of Myself \n  \nThe Miraculousness of Everything \n  \nBecause life is short and each day is precious\, I like to begin each day by entering what I call “the Golden World”—a state of quiet joy. To do this\, I often reflect upon the miraculousness of everything. Puffy white clouds floating by in the sky—how do they do that? Where did these coffee beans come from? The trees I see out my window have brand new bright green leaves. How did that happen? Our neighborhood is full of tulips. The irises and the rhododendrons are just starting to bloom. The daphne and the daffodils have had their glorious days. The laptop computer that I’m typing this on was undreamt of when I was a boy. \n  \nMaybe the most impossible and amazing thing of all is that I am alive and aware. My eyes\, brain and nervous system somehow create the illusion of a three-dimensional world in full color. Scientists might say\, “It’s just photons of light hitting the surface of the eye\, sending an electrical current to your brain\, where the synapses in your visual cortex something something something…” Huh? Photons? Synapses? Brain? What the heck are those? Where did they come from? One of my little poems goes like this: \n  \nthere has never been \nis not now \nand will never be \nanything more perfect \nthan this glass of water \n  \nOops! Here I am again…in the Golden World. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \n#186  The First Noble Truth \n“The Buddha told us to recognize the First Noble Truth\, the truth of suffering\, and to look deeply in order to discover the Second Noble Truth\, the cause of suffering.That is the only way the Fourth Noble Truth\, the path to transform suffering into happiness\, can reveal itself. So we have to emphasize the role of suffering. If we are so afraid of suffering\, we have no chance.” \n—from Your True Home  by Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \nWhen I was in the midst of deep suffering\, of course I couldn’t comprehend that this was a good thing\, leading to happiness. Sure didn’t feel like that to me. \n  \nThe suffering was thirteen years of marriage to a raging alcoholic—yes\, “raging” is not an exaggeration. Trying to cover a black eye with makeup\, wearing long-sleeved shirts to cover bruised arms\, making humiliating excuses for his passing out on the floor in the presence of company\, sharp\, cutting words more lasting than any physical pain…on and on. I thought if I left\, I would be seen as a failure in my parents’ eyes\, so I stayed and endured and excused for\, yes\, thirteen years. Believe me\, I was not thinking of these years as those leading to happiness. Upon divorce (thank you\, Al Anon)\, I eventually became a new person—or I became who I had been before marriage\, Jump-up Jude! I felt like a helium balloon released into the sky. Happiness and euphoria beyond belief. However\, I lived periods of time (and still do!)\, infused with what I would now call PTSD: Once I clambered over audience-filled seats in a theater in Ashland to escape sitting through a play by Sam Sheppard about an alcoholic husband who goes to bars and trades his car for bags of green peppers\, which he drunkenly spills on the kitchen table as he lurches home to his wife. I can’t watch the movie Elephant Man\, or The Days of Wine and Roses. Much as I wanted to\, I could not even sit and watch the delicious hunk\, Bradley Cooper\, starring in A Star is Born\, as he devolves into violent and abusive alcoholism. And I just can’t be around drunk people. I feel like I’m suffocating. \n  \nSo where does the happiness component come from that??? The happiness and benefit come from my ability to connect and empathize  with others who have been traumatized by life experiences. The kids I mentored\, the Indian woman whose family I helped for 18 years\, and most especially\, the men in prison I have spent time with for seven years; I have not lived their lives\, nor have they lived mine\, but we all have had deep trauma and all can relate to one another’s deep trauma in a blessedly bonding experience.  \n  \nIt truly is sheer happiness when one understands\, and is understood by another\, in experiences of trauma and suffering. I wouldn’t trade it for the world! \n  \n–Jude Russell \n* \n  \nOut Here \n  \nWe come out here to watch the stars \nfade as Orion heads home towards \nthe horizon. Low lying mist obscures his \nturning as waves curl and crash\, foamy flow \nup on newly deposited rocks\, old wood\, \nyellow toes of bald eagles foraging \namong crows\, pink footed gulls. \n  \nLight comes up slowly burning mist \naway. As we are away at the edge of the \nknown world. Beacons of cable laying ships\, \nbarges full of earth slowly appear \nas tide comes in. Now there is color \nas sky settles into her blue cloak\, hovers \nprotectively around the huge remnant \n  \nRock of sister cape worn down\, left \nstanding alone in calling distance of \nshore. Before us feasting on starlight \nthe sword edge crescent moon glints \nover barrier pine hills\, \nsweeps the way clear\, for us to make \nwhat we can of this fresh new day. \n  \n—Elizabeth Domike \n* \n  \nMichel is using a book by Pema Chödrön\, based on the slogans in her teacher Chögyam Trungpa’s book Training the Mind: And Cultivating Loving-Kindness\, as inspiration for his April meditation and mindfulness journal. Here are some excerpts: \n  \nApril 4\, 2023  #35  Don’t try to be the fastest. Don’t compete with others. \nI might offer a step further along: Don’t compare self to others—don’t get judgy\, of anything. I’m finding this is one of the lasting legacies of Jake Merriman and OHOM in my life: the letting go of judgement words. To do this one has to follow Johnny Stallings’ trait—compassion for everyone. I find that letting go of obsessive need to categorize and judge\, or sort out good/bad\, like/dislike\, etc. I will vie less and less against others\, or even self\, for prizes that do not exist. From this less judging space it becomes easier to understand and have compassion for an other\, and eventually even for self. \n  \nApril 20\, 2023  #48  Train without bias in all areas. It is crucial to do this pervasively and wholeheartedly. \nIT’S IMPORTANT TO INCLUDE EVERYONE AND \nEVERYTHING YOU MEET AS PART OF YOUR PRACTICE. \nTHEY BECOME THE MEANS BY WHICH YOU \nCULTIVATE COMPASSION AND WISDOM. \nWho doesn’t want to cultivate compassion and/or wisdom? I certainly have been striving to do this. There are certain beings (things are also included in this teaching—sigh) with whom I have a very challenged relationship. I don’t like them\, they don’t like me\, and neither is open to changing this. Yet\, I’m certain (from all my readings) these others are here for some greater purpose in my life; shouldn’t waste an opportunity to grow\, I may not get another one—then what? Go about with a malformed (uncorrected) ego\, as I do now? No thanks! I guess I better get busy with my work/training. \n  \nApril 21\, 2023  #49 Always meditate on whatever provokes resentment. \nDO TONGLEN PRACTICE WHENEVER YOU FEEL RESENTMENT. \nDO IT WITH SMALL THINGS ALL THE TIME. THEN YOU’LL BE \nPREPARED TO WORK WITH THE BIG ONES WHEN THEY ARISE. \nIt seems wise to work with resolving one’s resentments\, before they grow into “hates” for people\, beings\, or things. I believe all mindfulness practice is like this; sit now\, in silent reverie\, so amidst a fierce stormy barrage calm may prevail. Everything would simply build from there. Just breathe… \n  \nApril 23\, 2023  #49 Don’t be swayed by external circumstances. \nWHATEVER YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES\, PRACTICE  TONGLEN. \nWHATEVER IS WANTED\, SEND THAT OUT; WHATEVER IS \nUNWANTED\, BREATHE IT IN AND EXPERIENCE IT FOR \nYOURSELF AND ALL OTHERS IN THE SAME BOAT. \nThis speaks to equanimity—not allowing the outside storms of life to sway my little stuff. Currently\, I am bracing for the eventual passing of my father\, whom I’ve come to love very much. Alzheimer’s is taking a toll on his mind and personality. I don’t see it yet\, but my mom has to deal with many of the challenges that are arising. There’s nothing I can do for either of them; letting those concerns frazzle me doesn’t help any. All I can do is keep doing as best as I can. I’m not ready to let him go\, and at the same time he is already gone. My father I knew as a child is long gone—the one with whom I had so many conflicts and struggles—and the one I’ve come to know\, love\, and appreciate from prison\, he\, too\, is now gone. What’s left is the husk of of a man I once knew for his strength and resolve. He’s not dead\, nor has his mind gone completely yet. However\, the inevitable reality of time’s ravaging of mind and body are no longer easily ignored. It is time to embrace each moment\, as it may be the last one I get with him. Whether by phone\, or if I get to see him once more face-to-face\, truth is present that we all proceed apace to the same destiny—each on our own path and in our own time. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \nDear Mindful Meditators \n  \nOur Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue began on September 15\, 2020. It is mailed to 10 people who are in prison and emailed to about 60 people who aren’t—including 9 men who were in prison in September of 2020 who are now out of prison! Hallelujah! \n  \nWe had our first get-together on Saturday\, May 13th\, at Taborspace in Portland. In attendance were: Charles Erickson\, Nicole Rush\, Sam Muller\, Nancy Scharbach\, Katie Radditz & Johnny Stallings. We talked about how our “life journey” and our “spiritual journey” are the same thing. Everyone shared stories from their life. Abe Green visited us from Montana—via FaceTime. We all had a lovely time together.  \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in peace & love. \n  \n—Johnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-5-15-23/
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