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SUMMARY:Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Archive
DESCRIPTION:Avalokiteśvara from the Ajanta Caves \n  \n  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Community \n  \nIn September of 2020\, Open Road board members–Bill Faricy\, Deborah Buchanan and Katie Radditz–along with Howard Thoresen and I\, inaugurated the Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Community\, for people who live in prison and for those who don’t. If you are interested in meditation and mindfulness\, you are welcome to join us. The idea of the Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue is to provide support and encouragement for your spiritual practice–that is\, whatever gives your life meaning. \n  \nWe are not promoting any religious tradition. We will just be sharing our thoughts\, experiences\, questions and friendship in order to support and encourage each other in living more peacefully and mindfully. To begin\, we will be using Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh as a jumping off point for dialogue. As we go along\, we will use other inspirational texts and poems\, along with everyone’s personal ruminations. \n  \nI will coordinate the writings of prison residents through the Open Road post office box\, and use email for everyone else. To begin\, everyone is invited to find one of the 365 meditations in Thich Nhat Hanh’s book that inspires you and write something in response to it. You can use other sources of inspiration as well. \n  \nOn the 15th of every month I will send out what I’ve collected from everyone to all the participants. You are free to respond to what other people write\, or just ponder it. \n  \nHere is the first Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, published on September 15\, 2020. \nHere’s the second Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, published on October 15\, 2020. \nHere’s the third Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, published on November 15\, 2020. \nHere’s the fourth Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, published on December 15\, 2020. \nHere’s the fifth Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, published on January 15\, 2021. \nHere’s the sixth Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, published on February 15\, 2021. \nHere’s the seventh Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, published on March 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for April 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for May 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for June 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for July 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for August 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for September 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for October 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for November 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for December 15\, 2021. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for January 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for February 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for March 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for April 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for May 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for June 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for July 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for August 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for September 15\, 2022. \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for October 15\, 2022 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for November 15\, 2022 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for December 15\, 2022 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for January 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for February 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for March 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for April 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for May 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for June 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for July 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for August 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for September 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for October 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for November 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for December 15\, 2023 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for January 15\, 2024 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for February 15\, 2024 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for March 15\, 2024 \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for April 15\, 2024   \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for May 15\, 2024  \nMeditation & Mindfulness Dialogue for June 15\, 2024 \n  \nHere are two meditation texts:  \na talk on Beginner’s Mind by Shunryū Suzuki (1904-1971) \nthe earliest Zen text\, Hsin Hsin Ming\, by Seng Ts’an\, the Third Zen Patriarch (529-606 A.D.) \nIf you’d like to join our merry band\, email me and let me know. \n  \nJake was in segregation (solitary confinement) at Two Rivers prison when he wrote this: \n\n49 – What is a leaf?\n \nIs one of my favorites! In segregation we have paintings that are of different scenes. At first it was cool\, then I and others got over it. But since putting this wisdom of Thich Nhat Hanh in perspective you see more than a painting. For it opens my eyes to the time\, the painter\, the painter’s years of art skills\, everything down to what makes paint…paint. There are so many miracles that came together to make these paintings! It’s amazing. Now I try to be mindful of what miracles come into place to make people I meet\, foods I eat. Being conscious of what had to come together to create your best friend or your favorite food gives you much more appreciation for how they come to be in your life .\n \nThank you for giving me a chance\, Johnny. I’m really working on myself. My goal is day by day. (Today be less ego-oriented.) Trying to not care who judges me for being me. Because that’s not my problem\, I am happy and peaceful. It’s been a sacrifice\, but as I’m learning sacrifice is the way to a peaceful life!\n \nPeace Love Happiness\n \n–Jake\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in love. \n  \n–Johnny Stallings \nExecutive Director\, The Open Road
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/open-road-meditation-mindfulness-archive/
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SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  8/1/24
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nAugust 1\, 2024 \n  \n        I put on my glasses \nto see the fog \n         more clearly \n  \n—John Brehm \n* \n  \nWalking Through a Wall \n  \nUnlike flying or astral projection\, walking through walls is a totally earth-related craft\, but a lot more interesting than pot making or driftwood lamps. I got started at a picnic up in Bowstring in the northern part of the state. A fellow walked through a brick wall right there in the park. I said\, ‘Say\, I want to try that.’ Stone walls are best\, then brick and wood. Wooden walls with fiberglass insulation and steel doors aren’t so good. They won’t hurt you. If your wall walking is done properly\, both you and the wall are left intact. It is just that they aren’t pleasant somehow. The worst things are wire fences\, maybe it’s the molecular structure of the alloy or just the amount of give in a fence\, I don’t know\, but I’ve torn my jacket and lost my hat in a lot of fences. The best approach to a wall is\, first\, two hands placed flat against the surface; it’s a matter of concentration and just the right pressure. You will feel the dry\, cool inner wall with your fingers\, then there is a moment of total darkness before you step through on the other side. \n  \n—Louis Jenkins \n* \n  \nWhat did the zen master say to the hot dog vender? \nMake me one with everything. \n  \nI was reminded of that joke because of the ending of a stop-action animated film we just watched\, Marcel the Shell With Shoes On\, about a one inch snail who has lost his family. It was sweet\, funny\, odd\, and unexpectedly touching. \n  \nBut I thought you’d especially like this excerpt from the end of the script\, in which Marcel is sitting on a window sill\, the window is open a crack\, and a breeze is blowing past him: \n  \nThe wind blows through Marcel’s shell\, creating a LOW PLAINTIVE HUM. \nMARCEL: Can you hear it? That’s it. That’s going through my shell.  \nWIDE ON THE ROOM  \nIt’s a normal laundry room. But in this moment\, in this afternoon light\, in this breeze\, we feel something transcendent.  \nMARCEL (V.O.): It connected me\, I felt\, to everything. Because if I wasn’t there the sound would never exist. I felt like everything was in pieces but when I stood there\, suddenly we were one large instrument. I like to go there a lot. Because it reminds me that I’m not just one separate piece rattling around in this place\, but that I’m part of a whole. And I truly enjoy the sound of myself connected to everything.  \nMarcel sits on an eraser\, looking out the window. His shell HUMS with the wind.  \nCUT TO BLACK  \n  \n—J Kahn \n* \n  \nI replied to J in an email: \n  \nThanks\, J. \n  \nSounds like my kind of movie. \n  \nWith the ending they are trying to say something very simple\, which is difficult to put into words–and is the most important thing in the world. \n  \nIn Act 3 of Our Town\, Emily feels that feeling and is brokenhearted that other people aren’t feeling it. \n  \nI don’t know if it is what Tom Waits is talking about in this song\, but the song is very evocative of something\, in any case: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-c5L_45_gA \n  \nThat Feel \n  \nWell there’s one thing you can’t lose \nIt’s that feel \nYour pants\, your shirt\, your shoes \nBut not that feel \nYou can throw it out in the rain \nYou can whip it like a dog \nYou can chop it down like an old dead tree \nYou can always see it \nWhen you’re coming into town \nOnce you hang it on the wall \nYou can never take it down \n  \nBut there’s one thing you can’t lose \nAnd it’s that feel \nYou can pawn your watch and chain \nBut not that feel \nIt always comes and finds you \nIt will always hear you cry \nI cross my wooden leg \nAnd I swear on my glass eye \nIt will never leave you high and dry \nNever leave you loose \nIt’s harder to get rid of than tattoos \n  \nBut there’s one thing you can’t do \nIs lose that feel \nYou can throw it off a bridge \nYou can lose it in the fire \nYou can leave it at the altar \nBut it will make you out a liar \nYou can fall down in the street \nYou can leave it in the lurch \nWell you say that it’s gospel \nBut I know that it’s only church \n  \nAnd there’s one thing you can’t lose \nAnd it’s that feel \nIt’s that feel \n  \n–Tom Waits \n  \nAnd then there’s this poem\, which was in the April 1\, 2021 issue of peace\, love\, happiness & understanding. It’s good enough to share again: \n  \nNirvana \n  \nnot much chance\, \ncompletely cut loose from \npurpose\, \nhe was a young man \nriding a bus \nthrough North Carolina \non the way to somewhere \nand it began to snow \nand the bus stopped  \nat a little cafe \nin the hills \nand the passengers  \nentered. \nhe sat at the counter \nwith the others\, \nhe ordered and the  \nfood arrived. \nthe meal was \nparticularly \ngood  \nand the \ncoffee. \nthe waitress was  \nunlike the women \nhe had \nknown. \nshe was unaffected\, \nthere was a natural \nhumor which came \nfrom her. \nthe fry cook said \ncrazy things. \nthe dishwasher. \nin back\, \nlaughed\, a good \nclean \npleasant \nlaugh. \nthe young man watched \nthe snow through the \nwindows. \nhe wanted to stay \nin that cafe \nforever. \nthe curious feeling \nswam through him \nthat everything  \nwas \nbeautiful \nthere\, \nthat it would always \nstay beautiful \nthere. \nthen the bus driver \ntold the passengers \nthat it was time \nto board. \nthe young man \nthought\, I’ll just sit \nhere\, I’ll just stay \nhere. \nbut then \nhe rose and followed \nthe others into the \nbus. \nhe found his seat \nand looked at the cafe \nthrough the bus \nwindow. \nthen the bus moved \noff\, down a curve\, \ndownward\, out of \nthe hills. \nthe young man  \nlooked straight  \nforward. \nhe heard the other \npassengers \nspeaking  \nof other things\, \nor they were \nreading \nor \nattempting to \nsleep. \nthey had not  \nnoticed  \nthe \nmagic. \nthe young man \nput his head to \none side\, \nclosed his \neyes\, \npretended to \nsleep. \nthere was nothing \nelse to do- \njust to listen to the \nsound of the \nengine\, \nthe sound of the  \ntires  \nin the \nsnow. \n  \n–Charles Bukowski \n  \npeace\, love & that feeling \n  \nJohnny \n* \n  \n6-29-24 \n  \nDear Johnny\, \n  \nIt’s a beautiful Saturday afternoon & my work is finished for the day. My mind is always full of thoughts of life outside the walls of prison these days\, all of them good. It sometimes occurs to me that my past life feels like it was just a dream & that I’ve never been out of prison. I’m sure that one day my whole life will seem like one long dream. Who’s to say that it’s not just that? \n  \nI had a bunch of flowers left over from the plots & I asked if I could place them along the window sills here on my new unit. I was given permission to do so. Now the whole front of H Unit is covered in bright-colored flowers & I’ve gotten a lot of positive comments! It feels good to make things beautiful here. What I’ve done with plants & flowers\, Johnny\, you’ve done with people in and out of prison. Once I’m out\, my plan is to do what you’ve done\, plant seeds in people and help them to reclaim their lives. Well…we will see what happens once I’m out. Maybe a few friends & a good job & happiness in a simple life would be more my speed right now. \n  \n7-1-24 \n  \nHere is something nice that I’ve been thinking about for the letters we all share. Being in a cell lets me have personal time to think and write. \n  \nGood things are what I need to rent space in my head. My waking life is full of dreams that come to pass. Never again will I take for granted the world that is waiting beyond the walls\, razor wire & glass. I try to bring the beauty of the world outside in here. \n  \n7-9-24 \n  \nThe way we all think and express how we feel about the kindness we see and share with each other in the group letters we compile for me is sweet as honey dripping into my soul. We are on the path to the core of the golden world\, all of us are the shining ones helping others to find this world as well. \n  \nI love the Mary Oliver poem that Ms. Jill Littlewood shared with us called “The Summer Day”! And to you\, Ms. Littlewood\, I must say… \n  \nI do not know who made the swan or black bear\, or the grasshopper\, or you\, or me. What I do know is that if all of my days were like the one summer day in this poem\, it in itself would be bliss. Most of my days are spent in a greenhouse and I do have grasshoppers. I even have a rock chuck who eats my kale! My prayers are to life & love & joy and friends. I speak them to the morning sun and to my coffee. With my one wild and precious life I simply plan to be content. \n  \nHarvesting saffron in the summer morning sun was a gift today. Most of the time these days it does not even feel like prison to me anymore.  \n  \nMy mind is always on what it will be like to have a different scale of freedom in this world…. My perception of freedom is I’m sure quite different than most. \n  \nWell\, I love you Johnny & will talk to you soon. \n  \nGood things Always \nRocky \n* \n  \nJune 23\, 2024 \n  \nJohnny\, \n  \nThank you for the copy of Every Day\, Holy Day. I really appreciate your doing this for me. Life at OSCI goes well. I’ve been here over 30 days now; still settling into my routine\, but much here is differently-same. (More of a reasonable and calm state\, yet still a carceral environment with a few “toughs” to keep things interesting.) I find I’m exposed to far fewer people here. It’s not just a smaller population\, but each unit is more isolated than it seemed at TRCI\, including overlapping at meals and pill-line. Each keeps to one’s own “people” or unit. All-in-all\, it’s much nicer here! \n  \nTopic: Joy. Moments come when the heart dances in the light. So much more than the experience of fun\, or even happiness\, joy erupts when the inner sphere scintillates in its completeness. An experience touches us to the depths of our souls\, and in that moment we are graced with a vision—if only fleetingly—of the flawless wholeness and perfection of all. Then the heart fills and flows over\, even amid the brokenness of the world. \n  \nWeek’s mantra: Mouth filled with laughter\, ears with shouts of joy. \n  \nPractice: Step away from your busyness and savor several moments every day; feel the joy that is available to you.  —from Every Day\, Holy Day by Alan Morinis \n  \n“Heart dances in the light…joy erupts when the inner sphere scintillates in its completeness.” Such an image! To touch the “flawless wholeness and perfection of it all.” (I struggle today with RA [Rheumatoid Arthritis] stiffness and pain\, in addition to allergy congestion.) The step back; the step to smell the roses; it’s developing the awareness of life’s variegated moments as they pass. Some as “happy little clouds.” Others pendulous with precipitation\, yet to be deposited on earth. No matter my opinion of the moment—good\, bad\, etc.—moments for experiencing joy abound. I have but to develop my awareness. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \nPeace Love Happiness and Understanding… \n  \n…can be hard to come by in this blistering hot\, suffocating weather.  \n  \nI have been angry at the weather: Whoever heard of ‘heat domes’ until a couple of years ago? Whoever needed ‘cooling shelters’ until a few years ago? The heat wave would cool naturally in a few days—-well\, not anymore.  So I’m mad at Republicans\, corporations\, anybody who calls climate disasters ‘natural’\, etc. etc.  \n  \nBut then it boils down (haha) to me\, personally\, of course. Instead of enjoying my coveted 5-7 a.m. reading and coffee time\, I have to go out at 5 a.m. to water my gardens\, put shade covers on the hydrangeas\, do whatever garden work I need to do before the heat hits again. Or\, most aggravating of all (poor me)\, I have to get a bike ride in at that time and finish before it hits 80 degrees at 9 a.m.! That ‘poor me’ should not be in parentheses; this is serious stuff. \n  \nSo with that merry attitude\, I hopped on the bike yesterday at 6 a.m. It was 58 degrees\, and felt…deliciously cool!  Well\, that’s not gonna last\, I growled. But it was\, in fact\, deliciously cool\, and fresh. And with cool and fresh I breathed in the almost tangible fragrance…of green. The emerald green of grass-filled meadows. The nearby meadows of one hundred lovely sheep\, all browsing heads down munching on the meadow. I love those sheep. ‘Hi sheep!\,’ I called\, as I always do. A few of them looked up\, and I could swear they nodded at me. But how can they be enjoying themselves with those hot\, wool coats on?\, I grimaced. It felt good to have other creatures to commiserate with\, even though the sheep didn’t appear to realize they were miserable. \n  \nAnd then…and then…the sun rose from behind Bald Butte and bathed the fields in gold. It backlit the patches of Timothy hay and the nodding heads of wheat in a shimmering light. Golden wheat\, sky blue chicory\, pearly pink sweet peas lined the road. \n  \nThe birds exalted in the sunrise—-the soft staccato of the mourning doves\, warbling meadow larks\, the chirping and twirping of all\, cheering the arrival of the sun. Before I could stop\, I found myself chirping and twirping and cheering this heavenly morning along with all the other creatures.  \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nThis poem was published in Gary Snyder’s book Turtle Island\, in 1969–a time when America was in a great divide of culture\, politics\, generations.  A time of war\, protests. The poem is like a timely marker\, to engage in creating a more peaceful world.  \n\n\n  \n  \n\n\n\nI Went into the Maverick Bar\n\n\n  \n\n\n\n\n\nI went into the Maverick Bar   \nIn Farmington\, New Mexico.\nAnd drank double shots of bourbon\n                         backed with beer.\nMy long hair was tucked up under a cap\nI’d left the earring in the car.\n\n  \n\n\nTwo cowboys did horseplay\n                         by the pool tables\,\nA waitress asked us\n                         where are you from?\na country-and-western band began to play   \n“We don’t smoke Marijuana in Muskokie”   \nAnd with the next song\,\n                         a couple began to dance.\n\n\n\n  \n\n\nThey held each other like in High School dances   \n                         in the fifties;\nI recalled when I worked in the woods\n                         and the bars of Madras\, Oregon.   \nThat short-haired joy and roughness—\n                         America—your stupidity.   \nI could almost love you again.\n\n\n  \n\nWe left—onto the freeway shoulders—\n                         under the tough old stars—\nIn the shadow of bluffs\n                         I came back to myself\,\nTo the real work\, to\n                         “What is to be done.”\n\n\n\n  \n\n\n\n— GARY SNYDER\n\n\n\n\n  \n\nNot surprisingly\, yet remarkably\, Johnny and my husband Bill recognized immediately the last line. It is the title of an 1863 novel written by  Nikolay Chernyshevsky. “Chernyshevsky’s novel\, far more than Marx’s Capital\, supplied the emotional dynamic that eventually went to make the Russian Revolution.” (Wikipedia)\n\n\n\n  \n\n–Katie Radditz
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-8-1-24/
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