BEGIN:VCALENDAR
VERSION:2.0
PRODID:-//The Open Road:  a learning community - ECPv6.15.3//NONSGML v1.0//EN
CALSCALE:GREGORIAN
METHOD:PUBLISH
X-ORIGINAL-URL:https://openroadpdx.com
X-WR-CALDESC:Events for The Open Road:  a learning community
REFRESH-INTERVAL;VALUE=DURATION:PT1H
X-Robots-Tag:noindex
X-PUBLISHED-TTL:PT1H
BEGIN:VTIMEZONE
TZID:America/Los_Angeles
BEGIN:DAYLIGHT
TZOFFSETFROM:-0800
TZOFFSETTO:-0700
TZNAME:PDT
DTSTART:20200308T100000
END:DAYLIGHT
BEGIN:STANDARD
TZOFFSETFROM:-0700
TZOFFSETTO:-0800
TZNAME:PST
DTSTART:20201101T090000
END:STANDARD
BEGIN:DAYLIGHT
TZOFFSETFROM:-0800
TZOFFSETTO:-0700
TZNAME:PDT
DTSTART:20210314T100000
END:DAYLIGHT
BEGIN:STANDARD
TZOFFSETFROM:-0700
TZOFFSETTO:-0800
TZNAME:PST
DTSTART:20211107T090000
END:STANDARD
END:VTIMEZONE
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210131T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210131T170000
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20210118T205626Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210130T172304Z
UID:1715-1612105200-1612112400@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Identity & Mythos--The Stories We Tell Ourselves
DESCRIPTION:Don Quixote by Gustave Doré \n  \nOn Sunday\, January 31\, at 3 pm (PST)\, the theme for our Bibliophiles Unanimous! Zoom gathering will be Identity & Mythos: The Stories We Tell Ourselves. Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/81054571039 \n  \nI’m using the word “identity” to refer to the stories we tell ourselves about who we are\, and “mythos” to refer to the stories we tell ourselves about the world in which we live. \nWhere do our stories come from? How are we\, individually and collectively\, shaped by our stories? Can stories hurt us? Help us? \nLots to talk about!  \nI hope you’ll join the conversation! \npeace & love \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-identity-mythos-the-stories-we-tell-ourselves/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/Unknown-5.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210118
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210204
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20210118T191251Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T122654Z
UID:1706-1610928000-1612396799@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  1/21/21
DESCRIPTION:THE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nJanuary 21\, 2021 \n  \nMartin Luther King was born on January 15\, 1929. This year\, Martin Luther King Day is celebrated on January 18th. He believed in the power of Love to change our world. Here is one of his sermons: \n  \nLoving Your Enemies \nSo I want to turn your attention to this subject: “Loving Your Enemies.” It’s so basic to me because it is a part of my basic philosophical and theological orientation: the whole idea of love\, the whole philosophy of love. In the fifth chapter of the gospel as recorded by Saint Matthew\, we read these very arresting words flowing from the lips of our Lord and Master: “Ye have heard that it has been said\, ‘Thou shall love thy neighbor\, and hate thine enemy.’ But I say unto you\, Love your enemies\, bless them that curse you\, do good to them that hate you\, and pray for them that despitefully use you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven.” \nCertainly these are great words\, words lifted to cosmic proportions. And over the centuries\, many persons have argued that this is an extremely difficult command. Many would go so far as to say that it just isn’t possible to move out into the actual practice of this glorious command. They would go on to say that this is just additional proof that Jesus was an impractical idealist who never quite came down to earth. So the arguments abound. But far from being an impractical idealist\, Jesus has become the practical realist. The words of this text glitter in our eyes with a new urgency. Far from being the pious injunction of a utopian dreamer\, this command is an absolute necessity for the survival of our civilization. Yes\, it is love that will save our world and our civilization\, love even for enemies. \nNow let me hasten to say that Jesus was very serious when he gave this command; he wasn’t playing. He realized that it’s hard to love your enemies. He realized that it’s difficult to love those persons who seek to defeat you\, those persons who say evil things about you. He realized that it was painfully hard\, pressingly hard. But he wasn’t playing. And we cannot dismiss this passage as just another example of Oriental hyperbole\, just a sort of exaggeration to get over the point. This is a basic philosophy of all that we hear coming from the lips of our Master. Because Jesus wasn’t playing; because he was serious. We have the Christian and moral responsibility to seek to discover the meaning of these words\, and to discover how we can live out this command\, and why we should live by this command. \nNow first let us deal with this question\, which is the practical question: How do you go about loving your enemies? I think the first thing is this: In order to love your enemies\, you must begin by analyzing self. And I’m sure that seems strange to you\, that I start out telling you this morning that you love your enemies by beginning with a look at self. It seems to me that that is the first and foremost way to come to an adequate discovery to the how of this situation.  \nNow\, I’m aware of the fact that some people will not like you\, not because of something you have done to them\, but they just won’t like you. I’m quite aware of that. Some people aren’t going to like the way you walk; some people aren’t going to like the way you talk. Some people aren’t going to like you because you can do your job better than they can do theirs. Some people aren’t going to like you because other people like you\, and because you’re popular\, and because you’re well-liked\, they aren’t going to like you. Some people aren’t going to like you because your hair is a little shorter than theirs or your hair is a little longer than theirs. Some people aren’t going to like you because your skin is a little brighter than theirs; and others aren’t going to like you because your skin is a little darker than theirs. So that some people aren’t going to like you. They’re going to dislike you\, not because of something that you’ve done to them\, but because of various jealous reactions and other reactions that are so prevalent in human nature. \nBut after looking at these things and admitting these things\, we must face the fact that an individual might dislike us because of something that we’ve done deep down in the past\, some personality attribute that we possess\, something that we’ve done deep down in the past and we’ve forgotten about it; but it was that something that aroused the hate response within the individual. That is why I say\, begin with yourself. There might be something within you that arouses the tragic hate response in the other individual. \nThis is true in our international struggle. We look at the struggle\, the ideological struggle between communism on the one hand and democracy on the other\, and we see the struggle between America and Russia. Now certainly\, we can never give our allegiance to the Russian way of life\, to the communistic way of life\, because communism is based on an ethical relativism and a metaphysical materialism that no Christian can accept. When we look at the methods of communism\, a philosophy where somehow the end justifies the means\, we cannot accept that because we believe as Christians that the end is pre-existent in the means. But in spite of all of the weaknesses and evils inherent in communism\, we must at the same time see the weaknesses and evils within democracy. \nDemocracy is the greatest form of government to my mind that man has ever conceived\, but the weakness is that we have never touched it. Isn’t it true that we have often taken necessities from the masses to give luxuries to the classes? Isn’t it true that we have often in our democracy trampled over individuals and races with the iron feet of oppression? Isn’t it true that through our Western powers we have perpetuated colonialism and imperialism? And all of these things must be taken under consideration as we look at Russia. We must face the fact that the rhythmic beat of the deep rumblings of discontent from Asia and Africa is at bottom a revolt against the imperialism and colonialism perpetuated by Western civilization all these many years. The success of communism in the world today is due to the failure of democracy to live up to the noble ideals and principles inherent in its system. \nAnd this is what Jesus means when he said: “How is it that you can see the mote in your brother’s eye and not see the beam in your own eye?” Or to put it in Moffatt’s translation: “How is it that you see the splinter in your brother’s eye and fail to see the plank in your own eye?”3 And this is one of the tragedies of human nature. So we begin to love our enemies and love those persons that hate us whether in collective life or individual life by looking at ourselves. \nA second thing that an individual must do in seeking to love his enemy is to discover the element of good in his enemy\, and every time you begin to hate that person and think of hating that person\, realize that there is some good there and look at those good points which will over-balance the bad points.  \nI’ve said to you on many occasions that each of us is something of a schizophrenic personality. We’re split up and divided against ourselves. And there is something of a civil war going on within all of our lives. There is a recalcitrant South of our soul revolting against the North of our soul. And there is this continual struggle within the very structure of every individual life. There is something within all of us that causes us to cry out with Ovid\, the Latin poet\, “I see and approve the better things of life\, but the evil things I do.” There is something within all of us that causes us to cry out with Plato that the human personality is like a charioteer with two headstrong horses\, each wanting to go in different directions. There is something within each of us that causes us to cry out with Goethe\, “There is enough stuff in me to make both a gentleman and a rogue.” There is something within each of us that causes us to cry out with Apostle Paul: “I see and approve the better things of life\, but the evil things I do.” \nSo somehow the “isness” of our present nature is out of harmony with the eternal “oughtness” that forever confronts us. And this simply means this: That within the best of us\, there is some evil\, and within the worst of us\, there is some good. When we come to see this\, we take a different attitude toward individuals. The person who hates you most has some good in him; even the nation that hates you most has some good in it; even the race that hates you most has some good in it. And when you come to the point that you look in the face of every man and see deep down within him what religion calls “the image of God\,” you begin to love him in spite of. No matter what he does\, you see God’s image there. There is an element of goodness that he can never slough off. Discover the element of good in your enemy. And as you seek to hate him\, find the center of goodness and place your attention there and you will take a new attitude. \nAnother way that you love your enemy is this: When the opportunity presents itself for you to defeat your enemy\, that is the time which you must not do it. There will come a time\, in many instances\, when the person who hates you most\, the person who has misused you most\, the person who has gossiped about you most\, the person who has spread false rumors about you most\, there will come a time when you will have an opportunity to defeat that person. It might be in terms of a recommendation for a job; it might be in terms of helping that person to make some move in life. That’s the time you must do it. That is the meaning of love. In the final analysis\, love is not this sentimental something that we talk about. It’s not merely an emotional something. Love is creative\, understanding goodwill for all men. It is the refusal to defeat any individual. When you rise to the level of love\, of its great beauty and power\, you seek only to defeat evil systems. Individuals who happen to be caught up in that system\, you love\, but you seek to defeat the system. \nThe Greek language\, as I’ve said so often before\, is very powerful at this point. It comes to our aid beautifully in giving us the real meaning and depth of the whole philosophy of love. And I think it is quite apropos at this point\, for you see the Greek language has three words for love\, interestingly enough. It talks about love as eros. That’s one word for love. Eros is a sort of\, aesthetic love. Plato talks about it a great deal in his Dialogues\, a sort of yearning of the soul for the realm of the gods. And it’s come to us to be a sort of romantic love\, though it’s a beautiful love. Everybody has experienced eros in all of its beauty when you find some individual that is attractive to you and that you pour out all of your like and your love on that individual. That is eros\, you see\, and it’s a powerful\, beautiful love that is given to us through all of the beauty of literature; we read about it. \nThen the Greek language talks about philia\, and that’s another type of love that’s also beautiful. It is a sort of intimate affection between personal friends. And this is the type of love that you have for those persons that you’re friendly with\, your intimate friends\, or people that you call on the telephone and you go by to have dinner with\, and your roommate in college and that type of thing. It’s a sort of reciprocal love. On this level\, you like a person because that person likes you. You love on this level\, because you are loved. You love on this level\, because there’s something about the person you love that is likeable to you. This too is a beautiful love. You can communicate with a person; you have certain things in common; you like to do things together. This is philia. \nThe Greek language comes out with another word for love. It is the word agape\, and agape is more than eros. Agape is more than philia. Agape is something of the understanding\, creative\, redemptive goodwill for all men. It is a love that seeks nothing in return. It is an overflowing love; it’s what theologians would call the love of God working in the lives of men. And when you rise to love on this level\, you begin to love men\, not because they are likeable\, but because God loves them. You look at every man\, and you love him because you know God loves him. And he might be the worst person you’ve ever seen. \nAnd this is what Jesus means\, I think\, in this very passage when he says\, “Love your enemy.” And it’s significant that he does not say\, “Like your enemy.” Like is a sentimental something\, an affectionate something. There are a lot of people that I find it difficult to like. I don’t like what they do to me. I don’t like what they say about me and other people. I don’t like their attitudes. I don’t like some of the things they’re doing. I don’t like them. But Jesus says love them. And love is greater than like. Love is understanding\, redemptive goodwill for all men\, so that you love everybody\, because God loves them. You refuse to do anything that will defeat an individual\, because you have agape in your soul. And here you come to the point that you love the individual who does the evil deed\, while hating the deed that the person does. This is what Jesus means when he says\, “Love your enemy.” This is the way to do it. When the opportunity presents itself when you can defeat your enemy\, you must not do it. \nNow for the few moments left\, let us move from the practical how to the theoretical why. It’s not only necessary to know how to go about loving your enemies\, but also to go down into the question of why we should love our enemies. I think the first reason that we should love our enemies\, and I think this was at the very center of Jesus’ thinking\, is this: that hate for hate only intensifies the existence of hate and evil in the universe. If I hit you and you hit me and I hit you back and you hit me back and go on\, you see\, that goes on ad infinitum. It just never ends. Somewhere somebody must have a little sense\, and that’s the strong person. The strong person is the person who can cut off the chain of hate\, the chain of evil. And that is the tragedy of hate\, that it doesn’t cut it off. It only intensifies the existence of hate and evil in the universe. Somebody must have religion enough and morality enough to cut it off and inject within the very structure of the universe that strong and powerful element of love. \nI think I mentioned before that sometime ago my brother and I were driving one evening to Chattanooga\, Tennessee\, from Atlanta. He was driving the car. And for some reason the drivers were very discourteous that night. They didn’t dim their lights; hardly any driver that passed by dimmed his lights. And I remember very vividly\, my brother A. D. looked over and in a tone of anger said: “I know what I’m going to do. The next car that comes along here and refuses to dim the lights\, I’m going to fail to dim mine and pour them on in all of their power.” And I looked at him right quick and said: “Oh no\, don’t do that. There’d be too much light on this highway\, and it will end up in mutual destruction for all. Somebody got to have some sense on this highway.” \nSomebody must have sense enough to dim the lights\, and that is the trouble\, isn’t it? That as all of the civilizations of the world move up the highway of history\, so many civilizations\, having looked at other civilizations that refused to dim the lights\, and they decided to refuse to dim theirs. And Toynbee tells that out of the twenty-two civilizations that have risen up\, all but about seven have found themselves in the junkheap of destruction. It is because civilizations fail to have sense enough to dim the lights.8 And if somebody doesn’t have sense enough to turn on the dim and beautiful and powerful lights of love in this world\, the whole of our civilization will be plunged into the abyss of destruction. And we will all end up destroyed because nobody had any sense on the highway of history. Somewhere somebody must have some sense. Men must see that force begets force\, hate begets hate\, toughness begets toughness. And it is all a descending spiral\, ultimately ending in destruction for all and everybody. Somebody must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate and the chain of evil in the universe. And you do that by love. \nThere’s another reason why you should love your enemies\, and that is because hate distorts the personality of the hater. We usually think of what hate does for the individual hated or the individuals hated or the groups hated. But it is even more tragic\, it is even more ruinous and injurious to the individual who hates. You just begin hating somebody\, and you will begin to do irrational things. You can’t see straight when you hate. You can’t walk straight when you hate. You can’t stand upright. Your vision is distorted. There is nothing more tragic than to see an individual whose heart is filled with hate. He comes to the point that he becomes a pathological case. For the person who hates\, you can stand up and see a person and that person can be beautiful\, and you will call them ugly. For the person who hates\, the beautiful becomes ugly and the ugly becomes beautiful. For the person who hates\, the good becomes bad and the bad becomes good. For the person who hates\, the true becomes false and the false becomes true. That’s what hate does. You can’t see right. The symbol of objectivity is lost. Hate destroys the very structure of the personality of the hater. And this is why Jesus says hate [does damage to the self]… [Recording interrupted.] \n…The way to be integrated with yourself\, and the way to be integrated with yourself is be sure that you meet every situation of life with an abounding love. Never hate\, because it ends up in tragic\, neurotic responses. 9Psychologists and psychiatrists are telling us today that the more we hate\, the more we develop guilt feelings and we begin to subconsciously repress or consciously suppress certain emotions\, and they all stack up in our subconscious selves and make for tragic\, neurotic responses. And may this not be the neuroses of many individuals as they confront life that that is an element of hate there. And modern psychology is calling on us now to love. But long before modern psychology came into being\, the world’s greatest psychologist who walked around the hills of Galilee told us to love. He looked at men and said: “Love your enemies; don’t hate anybody.” It’s not enough for us to hate your friends because—to to love your friends—because when you start hating anybody\, it destroys the very center of your creative response to life and the universe; so love everybody. Hate at any point is a cancer that gnaws away at the very vital center of your life and your existence. It is like eroding acid that eats away the best and the objective center of your life. So Jesus says love\, because hate destroys the hater as well as the hated. \nNow there is a final reason I think that Jesus says\, “Love your enemies.” It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. That’s why Jesus says\, “Love your enemies.” Because if you hate your enemies\, you have no way to redeem and to transform your enemies. But if you love your enemies\, you will discover that at the very root of love is the power of redemption. You just keep loving people and keep loving them\, even though they’re mistreating you. Here’s the person who is a neighbor\, and this person is doing something wrong to you and all of that. Just keep being friendly to that person. Keep loving them. Don’t do anything to embarrass them. Just keep loving them\, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh\, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with bitterness because they’re mad because you love them like that. They react with guilt feelings\, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period\, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love\, you see. It is redemptive\, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. So\, love your enemies. \nI think of one of the best examples of this. We all remember the great president of this United States\, Abraham Lincoln—these United States rather. You remember when Abraham Lincoln was running for president of the United States\, there was a man who ran all around the country talking about Lincoln. He said a lot of bad things about Lincoln\, a lot of unkind things. And sometimes he would get to the point that he would even talk about his looks\, saying\, “You don’t want a tall\, lanky\, ignorant man like this as the president of the United States.” He went on and on and on and went around with that type of attitude and wrote about it. Finally\, one day Abraham Lincoln was elected president of the United States. And if you read the great biography of Lincoln\, if you read the great works about him\, you will discover that as every president comes to the point\, he came to the point of having to choose a Cabinet.10 And then came the time for him to choose a Secretary of War. He looked across the nation\, and decided to choose a man by the name of Mr. Stanton. And when Abraham Lincoln stood around his advisors and mentioned this fact\, they said to him: “Mr. Lincoln\, are you a fool? Do you know what Mr. [Edwin M.] Stanton has been saying about you? Do you know what he has done\, tried to do to you? Do you know that he has tried to defeat you on every hand? Do you know that\, Mr. Lincoln? Did you read all of those derogatory statements that he made about you?” Abraham Lincoln stood before the advisors around him and said: “Oh yes\, I know about it. I read about it. I’ve heard him myself. But after looking over the country\, I find that he is the best man for the job.” \nMr. Stanton did become Secretary of War\, and…later\, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. And if you go to Washington\, you will discover that one of the greatest words or statements ever made by\, about Abraham Lincoln was made about this man Stanton. And as Abraham Lincoln came to the end of his life\, Stanton stood up and said: “Now he belongs to the ages.” And he made a beautiful statement concerning the character and the stature of this man. If Abraham Lincoln had hated Stanton\, if Abraham Lincoln had answered everything Stanton said\, Abraham Lincoln would have not transformed and redeemed Stanton. Stanton would have gone to his grave hating Lincoln\, and Lincoln would have gone to his grave hating Stanton. But through the power of love Abraham Lincoln was able to redeem Stanton. \nThat’s it. There is a power in love that our world has not discovered yet. Jesus discovered it centuries ago. Mahatma Gandhi of India discovered it a few years ago\, but most men and most women never discover it. For they believe in hitting for hitting; they believe in an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth; they believe in hating for hating; but Jesus comes to us and says\, “This isn’t the way.” \nAnd oh this morning\, as I think of the fact that our world is in transition now. Our whole world is facing a revolution. Our nation is facing a revolution\, our nation. One of the things that concerns me most is that in the midst of the revolution of the world and the midst of the revolution of this nation\, that we will discover the meaning of Jesus’ words.  \nHistory unfortunately leaves some people oppressed and some people oppressors. And there are three ways that individuals who are oppressed can deal with their oppression. One of them is to rise up against their oppressors with physical violence and corroding hatred. But oh this isn’t the way. For the danger and the weakness of this method is its futility. Violence creates many more social problems than it solves. And I’ve said\, in so many instances\, that as the Negro\, in particular\, and colored peoples all over the world struggle for freedom\, if they succumb to the temptation of using violence in their struggle\, unborn generations will be the recipients of a long and desolate night of bitterness\, and our chief legacy to the future will be an endless reign of meaningless chaos. Violence isn’t the way. \nAnother way is to acquiesce and to give in\, to resign yourself to the oppression. Some people do that. They discover the difficulties of the wilderness moving into the promised land\, and they would rather go back to the despots of Egypt because it’s difficult to get in the promised land. And so they resign themselves to the fate of oppression; they somehow acquiesce to this thing. But that too isn’t the way because non-cooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good. \nBut there is another way. And that is to organize mass non-violent resistance based on the principle of love. It seems to me that this is the only way as our eyes look to the future. As we look out across the years and across the generations\, let us develop and move right here. We must discover the power of love\, the power\, the redemptive power of love. And when we discover that we will be able to make of this old world a new world. We will be able to make men better. Love is the only way. Jesus discovered that. \nNot only did Jesus discover it\, even great military leaders discover that. One day as Napoleon came toward the end of his career and looked back across the years\, the great Napoleon that at a very early age had all but conquered the world. He was not stopped until he became\, till he moved out to the battle of Leipzig and then to Waterloo. But that same Napoleon one day stood back and looked across the years\, and said: “Alexander\, Caesar\, Charlemagne\, and I have built great empires. But upon what did they depend? They depended upon force. But long ago Jesus started an empire that depended on love\, and even to this day millions will die for him.” \nYes\, I can see Jesus walking around the hills and the valleys of Palestine. And I can see him looking out at the Roman Empire with all of her fascinating and intricate military machinery. But in the midst of that\, I can hear him saying: “I will not use this method. Neither will I hate the Roman Empire.” [Recording interrupted.] \nAnd I’m proud to stand here in Dexter this morning and say that that army is still marching. It grew up from a group of eleven or twelve men to more than seven hundred million today. Because of the power and influence of the personality of this Christ\, he was able to split history into A.D. and B.C. Because of his power\, he was able to shake the hinges from the gates of the Roman Empire. And all around the world this morning\, we can hear the glad echo of heaven ring:  \n  \nJesus shall reign wherever sun  \nDoes his successive journeys run;  \nHis kingdom spreads from shore to shore\,  \nTill moon shall wane and wax no more. \n  \nWe can hear another chorus singing: “All hail the power of Jesus name!” \nWe can hear another chorus singing: “Hallelujah\, hallelujah! He’s King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Hallelujah\, hallelujah!” \n  \nWe can hear another choir singing:  \nIn Christ there is no East or West.  \nIn Him no North or South\,  \nBut one great Fellowship of Love  \nThroughout the whole wide world.  \n  \nThis is the only way. \nAnd our civilization must discover that. Individuals must discover that as they deal with other individuals. There is a little tree planted on a little hill and on that tree hangs the most influential character that ever came in this world. But never feel that that tree is a meaningless drama that took place on the stages of history. Oh no\, it is a telescope through which we look out into the long vista of eternity\, and see the love of God breaking forth into time. It is an eternal reminder to a power-drunk generation that love is the only way. It is an eternal reminder to a generation depending on nuclear and atomic energy\, a generation depending on physical violence\, that love is the only creative\, redemptive\, transforming power in the universe. \nSo this morning\, as I look into your eyes\, and into the eyes of all of my brothers in Alabama and all over America and over the world\, I say to you\, “I love you. I would rather die than hate you.” And I’m foolish enough to believe that through the power of this love somewhere\, men of the most recalcitrant bent will be transformed. And then we will be in God’s kingdom. We will be able to matriculate into the university of eternal life because we had the power to love our enemies\, to bless those persons that cursed us\, to even decide to be good to those persons who hated us\, and we even prayed for those persons who despitefully used us. \nOh God\, help us in our lives and in all of our attitudes\, to work out this controlling force of love\, this controlling power that can solve every problem that we confront in all areas. Oh\, we talk about politics; we talk about the problems facing our atomic civilization. Grant that all men will come together and discover that as we solve the crisis and solve these problems—the international problems\, the problems of atomic energy\, the problems of nuclear energy\, and yes\, even the race problem—let us join together in a great fellowship of love and bow down at the feet of Jesus. Give us this strong determination. In the name and spirit of this Christ\, we pray. Amen. \n  \nSermon Delivered at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church\, Montgomery\, Alabama\, November 17\, 1957 \n* \n  \nBy some miracle\, someone recorded this thrilling moment at the birth of the modern Civil Rights Movement\, four days after the arrest of Rosa Parks. Here’s a link to an audio recording (with text) of King’s “Address to the First Montgomery Improvement Association Mass Meeting” at the Holt Street Baptist Church\, on December 5\, 1955: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGtp7kCi_LA&t=53s \n  \nAnd here’s a link to a video of the famous “I Have a Dream” speech\, given in Washington D.C. on August 28\, 1963: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smEqnnklfYs \n  \npeace\, love & justice \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-1-21-21/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210117T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210117T180000
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20210101T011709Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210117T011058Z
UID:1666-1610895600-1610906400@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous! A PLAY READING with Howard\, Alan & Andy 1/17/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nOn Sunday\, January 17\, 2021\, at 3 p.m.\, Bibliophiles Unanimous! will feature a SPECIAL EVENT: A PLAY READING with Howard Thoresen\, Alan Benditt and Andy Larkin! I can’t say too much about it\, but it’s going to be FUN! Here’s the Zoom link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/81054571039 \n  \nDON’T MISS THIS!!! \n  \npeace\, love & happiness \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-a-play-reading-with-howard-alan-andy-1-17-21/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/image-2-scaled.jpg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210115
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210215
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20210115T175427Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210321T232230Z
UID:1702-1610668800-1613347199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 1/15/21
DESCRIPTION:Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nJanuary 15\, 2020 \n  \nWelcome to our fifth meditation and mindfulness dialogue! The numbers below refer to passages from the book Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh. (JS) \n* \n  \nWITHOUT \n  \nPicture nothing. \n  \nNothing is pictured. \n  \nAnd then everything food sex stoplight \nyoga mat grocery bag little gnat— \n  \nas through a valve \nin the middle of that pictured \nnothing: \n  \nit all comes rushing \nlike sparks \njetting in the void. \n  \nThe ocean goes back in the bottle \nonly when you ignore it. \n  \nI flit from station to station\, \nknowing nothing of meditation. \n  \nAnd I seek out mute buttons \nas if there are more than one\, \nas if it is something that exists \n  \nwithout. \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nMr. Barnes\, in the December issue you said you wrote the paper (letter) six times over\, but know\, more times than not\, the first writing is always the best\, since when re-written over and over you can lose the essence of your writing. Don’t overthink it. The first edition was your rawest\, which tends to be most true and to the heart. I find that in journaling\, when I go back to read previous entries\, I think I should have said it this way or that\, but in reality it is its most true and rawest\, honest to who you are. \n  \nI also would give you this thought in regards to what you wrote about how we all were born upon a set of scales that started to tip in one direction or the other since our birth. I understand your concept of the scale relating to one side being good\, while the other is bad. But… Have you considered that there is no scale? In reading #312 None Other Than Enlightenment in Your True Home it seemed to me that the basic premise is that through enlightenment there is no scale. You can see the truth in all things\, that truth being the good and bad in all things. Good and bad are one thing: the flower in the garbage and the garbage in the flower. \n  \nMr. Gilbert\, so many things this year have showed us that society is in dire need of a change\, and that we all need a little more enlightenment. There is a lot of me me me\, hate\, blame for this or that\, or: since you don’t believe what I believe I hate you. I briefly touched on this in November’s issue of M & M\, but I will write a little more. On 11/2/20 I read #346 What Separates Us in our book Your True Home. In the message\, it talks about labels. Putting labels on people is hurtful and destructive. Labels are what’s currently wrong in society. It’s us vs. them. Labels are something that hurts every one of us. Society uses labels  to dehumanize\, to separate us into groups\, and if we can eliminate labels there can be peace in the world. We are all people on this planet\, one society\, one human race\, and until we get that our society will not be able to heal. Be the one! On society\, one human race\, one world together. \n  \nWhat I want to write about for myself is about something that really affected me to the point of tears forming when I started journaling. I debated even writing this in the newsletter because of how it affected me and how personal it is to me\, but after writing to my friend Jacob Green about what happened\, I started to feel empowered to include what happened for everyone in the newsletter. On 12/2/20 I read #316 The Smile of Nonfear in Your True Home. This passage for some reason stirred something inside me. It’s the word “afflictions” that woke this thought\, but really the whole bottom half spoke to me. Afflictions have been something I have been struggling with for a large part of my prison sentence. I’ve seen that what I had done to land me in prison these 18 years was an affliction. I concentrated on that “perceived” affliction for those first years\, trying to correct where I went wrong. It took many many years to find my path to better and correct who I am\, and to this point I\, in some ways\, didn’t know how I got there\, or where I am today. But now\, in reading #316\, I may have a little more of an idea. I recognized early on that a big part of what I did was founded on a deluded mind and thought pattern that needed correcting if I was to live a life outside these fences. If I couldn’t succeed in correcting my deluded mind\, thought pattern and affliction\, I didn’t deserve a life outside the fence\, or maybe even a life at all. What I saw in myself was only a deluded mind and thoughts\, and in doing so I could only see the afflictions within myself.  \n  \nSomehow\, over the years\, a slow chip away happened. I found my true mind\, and in doing so I no longer only saw my afflictions\, but saw much more. Call it enlightenment. I no longer concentrated on my deluded mind or thoughts\, which in turn\, I suppose\, allowed me to truly heal my affliction that got me here to prison. I am still not perfect by far\, none of us are\, but I truly believe I have healed enough now to start my next chapter in life. A life outside these fences. A life as me and who I am. A life that will allow me to continue to heal and better who I am\, the person I know I am and want to be. \n  \nAbove is what I wrote in my journal. I know that many guys in prison struggle with their afflictions that caused and/or contributed to their incarceration. Some feel they don’t deserve forgiveness\, and forgiveness from those you hurt may never come\, but forgiveness of yourself is possible. It happens with internal healing and the enlightenment that you don’t need to run away from your afflictions\, because with a true mind the afflictions are no longer there. And without afflictions there is only enlightenment; through enlightenment you will see much more within yourself. \n  \nThanks for listening. May peace\, love\, harmony and mindfulness be with you all. \n  \n—Joshua Underhill \n* \n  \nA meditative mind is silent. It is not the silence which thought can conceive of; it is not the silence of a still evening; it is the silence when thought—with all its images\, its words and perceptions—has entirely ceased. This meditative mind is the religious mind—the religion that is not touched by the church\, the temple or by chants. \n  \nThe religious mind is the explosion of love. It is this love that knows no separation. To it\, far is near. It is not the one or the many\, but rather the state of love in which all division ceases. Like beauty\, it is not of the measure of words. From this silence alone the meditative mind acts. \n  \nfrom Meditations by J. Krishnamurti \n* \n  \n(Here are a few of Michel Deforge’s many meditations from December:) \n  \nDecember 2  #47  The Mind of Enlightenment \n  \nIt is amazing what a few days of not mindfully breathing\, or purpose (practicing) can do to my mental state—more mercurial and more affected by influences. (grrr) It’s my own doing. I can’t blame anyone. Maybe…I can just relax\, breathe; and let it be what it is…? (Breathing…) How funny. Today is about bodhichitta and a “goal” of practice—to\, ultimately\, be able to aid/relieve the suffering of others. Wow! It’s funny because I see myself\, right now\, being very deep in my own mud/suffering. Getting better\, or anything positive\, is so far from my experience of now. And\, forget about being of help or benefit …Yet\, even now\, I may learn\, and from my learning\, another may derive a benefit. If I waste my “now” on later—how/if I’ll be anything—then I’ll miss my lesson on how perfect today’s “mud”-bath really is. (I don’t know why I’m “in” mud today. It’s a metaphor for suffering\, being human—made of the same mud as all other humans.) Even when I don’t “like” my now\, it really is perfect. Now\, where’s my snorkel? I think I lost a shoe! Oh well. It’s perfectly placed for now. (Better?) (Yes!) \n  \nDecember 3  #48  Enjoy a Moment of Nothing \n  \n(Taking a moment…) This is the essence of Buddhism\, for me. To sit and enjoy doing “nothing.” But\, it’s not nothing—(I’m channeling my inner Pooh Bear)—it’s a very wonderful something. It’s sitting. It’s being. It’s breathing. It’s often mind wandering and coming back; then wandering off again. It’s learning to enjoy me\, now\, in this moment. Breathing and existing (being) in a mindful moment/experience of each now\, as the moments pass. Enjoying nothing can allow all the moments of something a little more presence and mindful enjoyability\, if I want. \n  \nDecember 7  #49  What is a Leaf? \n  \nThây points out how everything\, including me and you\, is made from other things. A leaf is composed of so many things\, and so many things were critical to the growth of a particular leaf. Life is interdependent. When some say\, “We’re all in this together\,” I believe this is a deeper meaning behind a rallying cry for some cause. We do all exist in the same world. We share the same air\, the same soil\, the same clouds\, rain\, etc. We’re all made of the same elements—reduced to base elements\, carbon\, nitrogen\, oxygen\, etc. With so much sameness\, how can I accept you as different from me? I do… \n  \nThis is where I see the ego come in. Something tells me that I am special\, unique\, and unlike everyone and everything else; that there’s no connection whatsoever to anything or anyone else. Yet\, if I take away all the parts of me (good or bad) that come from someone else or something else\, “I” cease to exist entirely. Without you\, there is no me: both in the realm of duality and\, also\, in the realm of inter-dependence. “I” also can’t continue to exist (survive) without “you.” Too often I attempt to behave as if I am all that is. I think that it is only when I embrace otherness (or others) that I truly begin to live. This is not easy. It requires compassion for weaknesses\, mine too. It requires seeing “other” as same—not different or separate from. \n  \nHere on paper it is so easy to lay out\, contemplate and visualize. In the realm of action/reaction (reality?)—ego\, fear\, duality\, separateness—disconnect happens. I become guarded from you\, forgetting how much I need each and every other “you” out there\, so “I” can survive too. That’s my journey: finding my way to compassion\, vulnerability and interdependence (not co-dependence…). \n  \nDecember 10  #51  Subtle Gestures \n  \nI find myself slowing down while reading and snacking—mindlessly. Yet\, as I read\, and felt my breath I un-deliberately (un-intentionally) slowed down and savored my moments… The sensations aren’t profound\, but noticing them seems slightly so. That’s kinda neat; catching all the subtleties\, flavor\, muscles working\, crunching\, tasting\, breathing\, hearing…and then…like that *! (snap) It’s all over. I often find that life’s “best” moments come from those subtle gestures\, and they’re often done without guile or deliberateness—they have intent of kindness\, but it is a life state not as much as an effort to set out to do a kind act. Words fail to describe ideas fully\, the thought carries on all the same. \n  \nDecember 16  #54  Rites of Life \n  \n….I have experienced a few of those key moments—ones where flow happened\, or where I was perfectly attuned (although I do not recall them\, due to lacking focused awareness.) I imagine that by having awareness I could experience the moments completely as they exist in time—maybe learn a lesson of life from the moment\, create a deep etched memory\, or simply exist in the perfection of that moment\, watching as it passes to the next perfect moment—maybe even departing from “time.” \n  \nIs life a string of moments haphazardly strung together with no rhyme or reasoning? Can there be more than that\, accessed by simply being mindful and aware? I don’t think it needs to be a BIG production\, or some fantastic event(s). I like the idea of simple awareness\, exercised through each moment—not just on the cushion…. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \n#314  Melt the Ice of Knowledge \n  \nOften in my experience of living in prison there have been “rules” or “discriminating views” on this or that person. There is an atmospheric influence that enforces racial segregation and fuels hate amongst others. It’s follow the rules\, or the road. (As of late\, the Road is wide open and lovely. Join me?) Harboring one train of thought as truth\, and not having an open heart and open mind\, blurs the hidden beauty of truth in others—obstructed by societal upbringings\, social media\, and other major influences. Abandonment of views\, or opinions\, is an ice pick of relief\, chipping away the cold ice of hate\, oppression\, single-mindedness\, and when you can finally free yourself from the icy blur of lies and deceit\, you will find that what you thought was truth was an obstacle holding you from seeing the beauty in the soul of everyone/everything. Having an open heart\, open mind\, and leaving the views you’ve been taught\, you will learn so much\, and be able to see life\, and live life\, with deeper meaning\, and understanding. \n  \nI send all the Open Road/M & M family and the world Peace Love Happiness and Good Vibes. You all are beautiful and deserve the most! \n  \nTill next time \n  \nJake Green \n* \n  \nPhone Call to Ancient Times  \n  \nOut on the lawn\, under the aspen tree \nwhere I can get good cell reception\,  \nI took a call from Johnny\, who began  \ntelling about a friend in prison\, in \nthe hole again for some infraction\, \nand I stood so still\, listening\, from \nthe blackberry thicket a rabbit \ncrept under the fence to nibble grass \nat my feet\, a lolloping fist of fur  \nwith whiskers and little ears\, with  \nan inquisitive tremble\, amiable ghost  \nfrom the lost world we shared  \nwhen there was enough for all. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nI have some thoughts about the “perfect moments” Michel wrote about in his meditations on December 14th and 16th. He mentioned slowing down. I have found that when I’m preparing a meal\, if\, instead of doing it fast\, I slow down\, I get great pleasure from cutting the vegetables. This is true for eating the meal\, doing the dishes—for any activity\, even walking across the room. \n  \nJoseph Campbell and many others say that eternity is not a long time\, it’s timelessness. We have all experienced countless perfect moments. We don’t remember most of them because they leave no trace. It’s not a problem. We don’t need to remember them. The next one is coming soon. Maybe this is it. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \n#361: Offering Flowers to the Buddha \n  \nThis is about impermanence and how we should and should not view it. Impermanence is constant. Often viewed as negative\, as decay and death\, as loss\, and T N Hanh tells us we should enjoy things in their present moment instead of bemoaning their impermanence. \n  \nAgreed. But I take it a step further. Impermanence is death in one sense\, but also seeds of life in another. Let’s look at nature\, my favorite example for everything. \n  \nMost people see spring as birth\, rebirth\, life\, growth; summer as lushness\, abundance\, profusion\, light\, sun…life.  \n  \nThey tend to view fall as one of dying\, decay\, shutting down\, going dark. And winter? Ah\, the ultimate death: dark\, cold\, still…hibernation (from hibernus\, Latin for wintry. And  ‘hiver\,’ French for winter\, etc.) \n  \nBut when fall comes\, I feel most alive\, alert\, sharp\, eager\, ready to get-to-work. Nature agrees: bushy\, brilliant trees shed their leaves exposing lean\, bare\, shining\, black limbs\, looking like they’ve pushed up their sleeves to get ready to work. Their lean or muscular trunks stand sturdily in agreement. And now\, without all that busy foliage\, we have views beyond\, to the hills\, the sky. Views ahead. And what lies ahead? More life! Bare limbs\, branches\, and twigs house and host hundred of birds\, perching\, hopping about\, twittering\, swooping down to fetch seeds\, insects\, worms… Worms! What’s going on in all those fallen leaves\, anyway? Life\, in the form of worms! Millions of dark red\, wriggling creatures burrowing\, chomping\, aerating their way into and through piles of leaves. Creating mulch! And mulch = life! My garden loves that decayed\, death-like stuff. It eats it up! It brings me the biggest\, leafiest\, fattest\, brightest vegetables you can imagine.  \n  \nWhat else is happening when all the extravagance of spring and summer is gone? I’ll tell you what: Fungi\, that’s what!  \n  \nWhoa\, that creepy\, sneaky dark stuff that smells funky and looks weird? You bet!  \n  \nMushrooms\, lichens\, molds\, all sorts of fungi = Life! Look at bread\, wine\, beer\, cheese. All created with the indispensable help of fungi. (And what’s pizza without mushrooms\, anyway?) And look at penicillin and other antibiotics; ergot\, or LSD; fungi chemicals that produce statins! Life savers!  \n  \nFinally\, is winter really death-like? Is it the end of life? Well\, are we dead when we sleep each night? Of course not. A good night’s sleep is purely restorative\, and a good winter is nothing less. Can you imagine never sleeping but just going full-bore 24/7? Day in/day out\, year in/year out? You wouldn’t make it past day two or three. Seasons are nature’s parallel; fall and winter are rest and sleep\, but always with restoration and life at the core. \n  \nAnd then we die. Is that the end of it all? Not on your life! I will be cremated and my daughter knows just which mountain wildflower  meadow to scatter me in. I will be bone meal for the Avalanche lilies\, the valerian\, the paintbrush\, and they will love me for the strength and life I’ve brought to them. \n  \nSo (really) finally\, all these things produced by the ostensible death of stuff are nothing less that LIFE for the world.  \n  \n—Jude Russell (alive and well) \n* \n  \nThe Hsin Hsin Ming reminds me of the Dhammapada\, a collection of poetry that summarizes early Buddhist teachings. I find the Dhammapada to be very inspirational. \n  \nTaking ownership for my biases\, I do not understand the representation of Zen Buddhism as it appears in American culture. The Buddha gifted us with clear and concise instructions for training the mind\, often referred to as the Noble Eightfold Path. Meditation\, lifestyle changes\, and challenging our beliefs about “how the world works.” If you read the Buddha’s sermons in a “thematically progressive” order\, a very clear instruction manual emerges. Personally\, I need that. I’ve never really had a mind for philosophy or theology. But American Zen really advocates this message of “do nothing.” Don’t meditate. Don’t make lifestyle changes. Don’t challenge your beliefs\, because all beliefs are false. It is as though the Eightfold Path was completely cancelled out by Zen masters several hundreds of years ago. But I have a friend who ordained and studied at Venerable Thay’s Plum Village\, that is a very rigorous study and meditation practice. And people who went to study Chan in China also report: “study and meditation.” I visited a traditional Japanese Zen monastery in Washington\, and the monastics there lived and practiced in a very similar manner to the Ajahn Chah monasteries I am familiar with. So\, my bias\, my prejudice\, is I don’t understand American Zen. Traditional Zen uses the same meditation “manual” as my Vipassana meditation practice\, the Satipatthana Sutta\, “The Four Bases of Mindfulness.” Venerable  Thay [Thich Nhat Hanh] is an expert scholar of the Satipatthana Sutta in all of the ancient languages in which it was preserved\, and I have a lot of respect for his teaching. End of the day\, “their” practices are more similar than dissimilar to what I’m familiar with. \n  \n—Shad Alexander \n* \n  \nThank you Thich Nhat Hanh\, Johnny Stallings \nand your wonderful friends!  \n  \nI am here \nI see (or hear or touch) some thing \nI know it  \nYes (tiny smile) I am meditating \nMy knowing it \nMy seeing \nand my being here \nare somehow  \nrelated Yes (chuckle to myself) I am ok \nsomehow divisions \nare eased \ncan I “feel” \nhow you also \nare breathing \ncan I deeply  \nunderstand \nthat the  \nwater from a \ncloud \nis my relation? \nthe light and gray \ncolors from \nthat cloud \ncome all the \nway here \nluminous here \ncan these hard \nlines \nthese \nseeming forever \nwalls \nbe continually \n“eased” “understood” \n“held” like a child \nI am dissatisfied \ncrying inside like \na wailing child \nor a crazy politician \ncan I remember \nwhat I said \nabove \nI am here \nmy fear my dissatisfaction \nis here also \nbut I am holding (embracing) it \nlike my own mother \nlike my own niece \nlike my own beloved lover \nI am not \nkilling my fear my dissatisfaction \nmy crying child \nI am embracing them \nbreathing a long side \nbelly and fear \nare not unrelated \nare they? \nForever \nsmile \nlaugh (to yourself – don’t let them \nknow you are crazy) \nI can even \nstart to \nthink of your \nbreathing your \nthinking \nyour pain \nas my relation \nalthough these sentences are calming \ncan you \nsit here \nfor a few seconds \nor a short time \nwithout reading \nthese sentences \njust sit here \nwith the satisfaction \nbreathing \nthen with the dissatisfaction \nbreathing \nthe pain of the \nworld is also \nyours \nsmile you are Good \ncontinue forever \nmake up your \nown writing your own \nsong of the open \nlet it in form us and \nyou \nhow to dance our \nloving meditating  \n  \n—Alan Benditt  \n(roughly November 14\, 2020) 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-1-15-21/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Unknown.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210107
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210121
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20210107T174225Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T122545Z
UID:1692-1609977600-1611187199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  1/7/21
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nJanuary 7\, 2021 \n  \nI sent some of Thomas Traherne’s poems to Alex Tretbar\, who was inspired by the poem “Wonder” to write “DUST.” First Traherne\, then Tretbar: \n  \nWonder \n  \n    How like an Angel came I down! \n         How bright are all things here! \nWhen first among His works I did appear \n    O how their Glory me did crown! \nThe world resembled His Eternity\, \n         In which my soul did walk; \n    And every thing that I did see \n         Did with me talk. \n  \n    The skies in their magnificence\, \n         The lively\, lovely air; \nOh how divine\, how soft\, how sweet\, how fair! \n    The stars did entertain my sense\, \nAnd all the works of God\, so bright and pure\, \n         So rich and great did seem\, \n    As if they ever must endure \n         In my esteem. \n  \n    A native health and innocence \n         Within my bones did grow\, \nAnd while my God did all his Glories show\, \n    I felt a vigour in my sense \nThat was all Spirit. I within did flow \n         With seas of life\, like wine; \n    I nothing in the world did know \n         But ’twas divine. \n  \n    Harsh ragged objects were concealed\, \n         Oppressions\, tears and cries\, \nSins\, griefs\, complaints\, dissensions\, weeping eyes \n    Were hid\, and only things revealed \nWhich heavenly Spirits\, and the Angels prize. \n         The state of Innocence \n    And bliss\, not trades and poverties\, \n         Did fill my sense. \n  \n    The streets were paved with golden stones\, \n         The boys and girls were mine\, \nOh how did all their lovely faces shine! \n    The sons of men were holy ones\, \nIn joy and beauty they appeared to me\, \n         And every thing which here I found\, \n    While like an angel I did see\, \n         Adorned the ground. \n  \n    Rich diamond and pearl and gold \n         In every place was seen; \nRare splendours\, yellow\, blue\, red\, white and green\, \n    Mine eyes did everywhere behold. \nGreat wonders clothed with glory did appear\, \n         Amazement was my bliss\, \n    That and my wealth was everywhere: \n         No joy to this! \n  \n    Cursed and devised proprieties\, \n         With envy\, avarice \nAnd fraud\, those fiends that spoil even Paradise\, \n    Flew from the splendour of mine eyes\, \nAnd so did hedges\, ditches\, limits\, bounds\, \n         I dreamed not aught of those\, \n    But wandered over all men’s grounds\, \n         And found repose. \n  \n    Proprieties themselves were mine\, \n         And hedges ornaments; \nWalls\, boxes\, coffers\, and their rich contents \n    Did not divide my joys\, but all combine. \nClothes\, ribbons\, jewels\, laces\, I esteemed \n         My joys by others worn: \n    For me they all to wear them seemed \n         When I was born. \n  \n—Thomas Traherne  (1636-1674) \n* \n  \nDUST \n  \nI came down like an angel \nfrom a gestative mountain \n  \nI have no memory \nof \n  \nSince then loved \nones have told me \n  \nAbout the two \na.m. arrival \n  \nThe usual bawling \n& slap-shock of the other \n  \nSide of eternity \nsince then there have been \n  \nSo many thens that now \nseem second-hand \n  \nLike universal lullabies \nwhispered into the unconscious \n  \nEars of babies my life \nis just a transparent bead \n  \nOn an endless \nabacus \n  \nBut you are there too \n& you & you & you \n  \nAnd it seems fitting to me now \nthat abacus comes from the Hebrew word \n  \nFor dust \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nPoetry Lovers: On Sunday\, January 3rd\, Katie Radditz and Deborah Buchanan hosted a Zoom gathering on the theme of “Favorite Women Poets.” Here’s a link to the web page on the Open Road website\, where you will find poems to inspire you and whet your appetite for more: \n  \nhttps://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-favorite-women-poets-with-deborah-katie/ \n  \nIn the last Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, Joshua Barnes wrote about duality and oneness. He got me thinking about different things\, including Plato’s Allegory of the Cave\, from Book VII of The Republic. Socrates is doing most of the talking. The other speaker is Glaucon. You may be familiar with it\, but it’s one of those things that is worth revisiting and pondering from time to time. So\, here it is (in the Benjamin Jowett translation): \n  \nBOOK VII. \n  \nAnd now\, I said\, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened:—Behold! human beings living in an underground den\, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood\, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move\, and can only see before them\, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance\, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see\, if you look\, a low wall built along the way\, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them\, over which they show the puppets. \nI see. \nAnd do you see\, I said\, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels\, and statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials\, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking\, others silent. \nYou have shown me a strange image\, and they are strange prisoners. \nLike ourselves\, I replied; and they see only their own shadows\, or the shadows of one another\, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave? \nTrue\, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads? \nAnd of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows? \nYes\, he said. \nAnd if they were able to converse with one another\, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them? \nVery true. \nAnd suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side\, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow? \nNo question\, he replied. \nTo them\, I said\, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images. \nThat is certain. \nAnd now look again\, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first\, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light\, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him\, and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some one saying to him\, that what he saw before was an illusion\, but that now\, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence\, he has a clearer vision\,—what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them\,—will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him? \nFar truer. \nAnd if he is compelled to look straight at the light\, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take refuge in the objects of vision which he can see\, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him? \nTrue\, he said. \nAnd suppose once more\, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent\, and held fast until he is forced into the presence of the sun himself\, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled\, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities. \nNot all in a moment\, he said. \nHe will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best\, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water\, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day? \nCertainly. \nLast of all he will be able to see the sun\, and not mere reflections of him in the water\, but he will see him in his own proper place\, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is. \nCertainly. \nHe will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years\, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world\, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold? \nClearly\, he said\, he would first see the sun and then reason about him. \nAnd when he remembered his old habitation\, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners\, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change\, and pity them? \nCertainly\, he would. \nAnd if they were in the habit of conferring honours among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before\, and which followed after\, and which were together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future\, do you think that he would care for such honours and glories\, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer\, \n‘Better to be the poor servant of a poor master\,’ \nand to endure anything\, rather than think as they do and live after their manner? \nYes\, he said\, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner. \nImagine once more\, I said\, such an one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness? \nTo be sure\, he said. \nAnd if there were a contest\, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out of the den\, while his sight was still weak\, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable)\, would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead him up to the light\, let them only catch the offender\, and they would put him to death. \nNo question\, he said. \nThis entire allegory\, I said\, you may now append\, dear Glaucon\, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight\, the light of the fire is the sun\, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief\, which\, at your desire\, I have expressed—whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But\, whether true or false\, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all\, and is seen only with an effort; and\, when seen\, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right\, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world\, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-1-7-21/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210103
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210117
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201229T185731Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210107T180118Z
UID:1641-1609632000-1610841599@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Favorite Women Poets with Deborah & Katie
DESCRIPTION:  \nDear Bibliophiles \nOn Sunday\, January 3rd\, Deborah Buchanan and Katie Radditz hosted a conversation about Favorite Women Poets on Zoom. We had a good turnout. It’s a big subject! They began talking about Japanese women poets: \n  \nTankas from 4th – 19th century Japan \nOno no Komachi \n     While\, waiting for you\,\n     My heart is filled with longing\,\n     The autumn wind blows— \n     As if it were you— \n     Swaying the bamboo blinds of my door. \n  \nTanka stresses the beauty of life and nature\, but there is a strong feeling of yearning in many tanka. The shortness of life\, the transient nature of seasons and love. \nFirst known poetry perhaps is the tanka written as letters between women in Japan who were basically imprisoned at home.   They started writing letters to one another in simple haiku with hidden messages\,  the recipient would write back in two lines. Forming a tanka from the Haiku.  \nIzumi Shikibu. author of The Diary of Izumi Shikibu and was considered to be the finest poet of the time. She also wrote The Tale of Genji  considered the first novel. It is full of hundreds of Tankas.   \n  \n“To the lonely nights \n when a robe comes between us\,  \nwould you then\, you say\, \n have me add more layers yet  \nto keep us further apart?” \n  \n“Without showing a change in colour  \nThe thing that fades  \nIn this world  \nIs the flower  \nCalled the human heart.” \n  \n“The colour of the cherry blossom  \nHas faded vainly  \nIn the long rain  \nWhile in idle thoughts  \nI have spent my life.” \n  \n“Without a thought  \nFor my black hair’s disarray  \nI throw myself down\,  \nAlready longing for the one  \nWho ran his fingers through it.“ \n  \n“On the bamboo leaves  \nA fine ice fall  \nPatters and patters.  \nHow bitter  \nTo try to sleep alone!” \n  \nThen\, Deborah and Katie talked about Emily Dickinson. They read this poem: \n  \nTell all the Truth but tell it slant –\nSuccess in Circuit lies\nToo bright for our infirm Delight\nThe Truth’s superb surprise \nAs Lightning to the Children eased\nWith explanation kind\nThe Truth must dazzle gradually\nOr every man be blind – \n  \nJohnny recited one of his favorite Emily Dickinson poems: \n  \nThe Infinite a sudden Guest \nHas been assumed to be — \nBut how can that stupendous come \nWhich never went away? \n  \nDeborah talked about Diane Di Prima and read this poem by her: \n  \nPoem in Praise of My Husband\n  \nI suppose it hasn’t been easy living with me \neither\, \nwith my piques\, and ups and downs\, my need for \nprivacy \nleo pride and weeping in bed when you’re \ntrying to sleep \nand you\, interrupting me in the middle of a \nthousand poems \nin the middle of our drive over the nebraska \nhills and \ninto colorado\, odetta singing\, the whole world \nsinging in me \nthe triumph of our revolution in the air \nme about to get that down\, and you \nyou saying something about the carburetor \nso that it all went away \nbut we cling to each other \nas if each thought the other was the raft \nand he adrift alone\, as in this mud house \nnot big enough\, the walls dusting down around us\, a fine dust rain \ncounteracting the good\, high air\, and stuffing \nour nostrils \nwe hang our pictures of the separate worlds: \nnew york college and san francisco posters \nset out our japanese dishes\, chinese knives \nhammer small indian marriage cloths into \nthe adobe \nwe stumble thru silence into each other’s gut \nblundering thru from one wrong place to the \nnext \nlike kids who snuck out to play on a boat \nat night \nand the boat slipped from its moorings\, and \nthey look at the stars \nabout which they know nothing\, to find out \nwhere they are going. \n  \nDeborah and Katie shared this poem by Naomi Shihab Nye:  \n  \nShoulders\nA man crosses the street in rain\,\nstepping gently\, looking two times north and south\,\nbecause his son is asleep on his shoulder. \nNo car must splash him.\nNo car drive too near to his shadow. \nThis man carries the world’s most sensitive cargo\nbut he’s not marked.\nNowhere does his jacket say FRAGILE\,\nHANDLE WITH CARE. \nHis ear fills up with breathing.\nHe hears the hum of a boy’s dream\ndeep inside him. \nWe’re not going to be able\nto live in this world\nif we’re not willing to do what he’s doing\nwith one another. \nThe road will only be wide.\nThe rain will never stop falling. \n  \n Nancy Yeilding read this poem by Barbara Crooker: \n  \nIt’s Monday Morning \n  \nmid-November\, the world turned golden\, \npreserved in amber. I should be doing more \nto save the planet—plant a tree\, raise \na turbine\, put solar panels on the roof \nto grab the sun and bring it inside. Instead\, \nI’m sitting here scribbling\, sitting on a wrought \niron chair\, the air cold from last night’s frost\, \nthe thin sunlight sinking into the ruined \nAppalachians of my spine. I know it’s all \nabout to fall apart; the signs are everywhere. \nBut on this blue morning\, the air bristling \nwith crickets and birdsong\, I do the only thing \nI can: put one word in front of the other\, \nand see what happens when they rub up against \neach other. It might become something \nthat will burst into flame.  \n  \nDave Duncan read the first two stanzas of “The Cry of the Children” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning: \n  \n\n\n\nDo ye hear the children weeping\, O my brothers\, \n\n\n\n\n\n\nEre the sorrow comes with years ? \n\n\n\n\n\n\nThey are leaning their young heads against their mothers\, — \nAnd that cannot stop their tears. \nThe young lambs are bleating in the meadows ; \nThe young birds are chirping in the nest ; \nThe young fawns are playing with the shadows ; \nThe young flowers are blowing toward the west— \nBut the young\, young children\, O my brothers\, \nThey are weeping bitterly ! \nThey are weeping in the playtime of the others\, \nIn the country of the free. \n  \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nDo you question the young children in the sorrow\, \nWhy their tears are falling so ? \nThe old man may weep for his to-morrow \nWhich is lost in Long Ago — \nThe old tree is leafless in the forest — \nThe old year is ending in the frost — \nThe old wound\, if stricken\, is the sorest — \nThe old hope is hardest to be lost : \nBut the young\, young children\, O my brothers\, \nDo you ask them why they stand \nWeeping sore before the bosoms of their mothers\, \nIn our happy Fatherland ? \n\n\n\n  \nHere’s a poem from Wisława Szymborska that Katie and Deborah chose: \n  \nPossibilities\n I prefer movies.\nI prefer cats.\nI prefer the oaks along the Warta.\nI prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.\nI prefer myself liking people\nto myself loving mankind.\nI prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand\, just in case.\nI prefer the color green.\nI prefer not to maintain\nthat reason is to blame for everything.\nI prefer exceptions.\nI prefer to leave early.\nI prefer talking to doctors about something else.\nI prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.\nI prefer the absurdity of writing poems\nto the absurdity of not writing poems.\nI prefer\, where love’s concerned\, nonspecific anniversaries\nthat can be celebrated every day.\nI prefer moralists\nwho promise me nothing.\nI prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.\nI prefer the earth in civvies.\nI prefer conquered to conquering countries.\nI prefer having some reservations.\nI prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.\nI prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages.\nI prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.\nI prefer dogs with uncropped tails.\nI prefer light eyes\, since mine are dark.\nI prefer desk drawers.\nI prefer many things that I haven’t mentioned here\nto many things I’ve also left unsaid.\nI prefer zeroes on the loose\nto those lined up behind a cipher.\nI prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.\nI prefer to knock on wood.\nI prefer not to ask how much longer and when.\nI prefer keeping in mind even the possibility\nthat existence has its own reason for being. \n  \nAnd here’s a poem by Wisława Szymborska that Jude Russell read: \n  \nThe Three Oddest Words \n  \n\n\n\nWhen I pronounce the word Future\,\nthe first syllable already belongs to the past. \nWhen I pronounce the word Silence\,\nI destroy it. \nWhen I pronounce the word Nothing\,\nI make something no non-being can hold. \n\n\n\n  \nJeffrey Sher read a poem by Mary Oliver: \n  \nWild Geese\n  \nYou do not have to be good. \nYou do not have to walk on your knees \nfor a hundred miles through the desert repenting. \nYou only have to let the soft animal of your body \nlove what it loves. \nTell me about despair\, yours\, and I will tell you mine. \nMeanwhile the world goes on. \nMeanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain \nare moving across the landscapes\, \nover the prairies and the deep trees\, \nthe mountains and the rivers. \nMeanwhile the wild geese\, high in the clean blue air\, \nare heading home again. \nWhoever you are\, no matter how lonely\, \nthe world offers itself to your imagination\, \ncalls to you like the wild geese\, harsh and exciting — \nover and over announcing your place \nin the family of things. \n  \nHere a poem by Ada Limon: \n  \nThe Raincoat \n  \nWhen the doctor suggested surgery\nand a brace for all my youngest years\,\nmy parents scrambled to take me\nto massage therapy\, deep tissue work\,\nosteopathy\, and soon my crooked spine\nunspooled a bit\, I could breathe again\,\nand move more in a body unclouded\nby pain. My mom would tell me to sing\nsongs to her the whole forty-five minute\ndrive to Middle Two Rock Road and forty-\nfive minutes back from physical therapy.\nShe’d say\, even my voice sounded unfettered\nby my spine afterward. So I sang and sang\,\nbecause I thought she liked it. I never\nasked her what she gave up to drive me\,\nor how her day was before this chore. Today\,\nat her age\, I was driving myself home from yet\nanother spine appointment\, singing along\nto some maudlin but solid song on the radio\,\nand I saw a mom take her raincoat off\nand give it to her young daughter when\na storm took over the afternoon. My god\,\nI thought\, my whole life I’ve been under her\nraincoat thinking it was somehow a marvel\nthat I never got wet. \n  \nNancy Yeilding didn’t know if she could get through this poem by Denise Levertov without crying. She was encouraged to give it a try: \n  \nThe Fountain \n\nDon’t say\, don’t say there is no water\nto solace the dryness at our hearts.\nI have seen\n \nthe fountain springing out of the rock wall\nand you drinking there. And I too\nbefore your eyes \nfound footholds and climbed\nto drink the cool water.\n \nThe woman of that place\, shading her eyes\,\nfrowned as she watched-but not because\nshe grudged the water\, \nonly because she was waiting\nto see we drank our fill and were\nrefreshed. \n Don’t say\, don’t say there is no water.\nThat fountain is there among its scalloped\ngreen and gray stones\, \n it is still there and always there\nwith its quiet song and strange power\nto spring in us\, \n up and out through the rock. \n  \nHere’s a poem by Gabriela Mistral\, the first Latin American to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature: \n  \nRiches \n\nI have a faithful fortune\nand a fortune lost.\nOne’s like a rose\,\nthe other a thorn.\nWhat was taken from me\nI still possess:\nthe faithful fortune\nand the fortune lost\,\nand I’m rich in purple\nand unhappiness.\nOh how I love the rose\nand how the thorn loves me!\nLike round twin apples\nafter the frost:\nthe faithful fortune\,\nthe fortune lost. \n  \n(tr. Ursula K. Le Guin) \n  \nHere’s a poem by our current national Poet Laureate\, Joy Harjo: \n  \nPerhaps the world ends Here \n  \nThe world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what\, we must eat to live. \n  \nThe gifts of earth are brought and prepared\, set on the table. So it has been since creation\, and it will go on. \n  \nWe chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.  \n  \nIt is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it\, we make women. \n  \nAt this table we gossip\, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers. \n  \nOur dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table. \n  \nThis table has been a house in the rain\, an umbrella in the sun. \n  \nWars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory. \n  \nWe have given birth on this table\, and have prepared our parents for burial here. \n  \nAt this table we sing with joy\, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks. \n  \nPerhaps the world will end at the kitchen table\, while we are laughing and crying\, eating of the last sweet bite. \n* \n  \nNancy Yeilding also recommends: \n  \n“Late August” by Mary Chivers \n“For a Friend Lying in Intensive Care Waiting for Her White Blood Cells to Rejuvenate After a Bone Marrow Transplant”  by Barbara Crooker \n“A Gift” and “Witness” by Denise Levertov \n  \nDeborah and Katie also recommend: \n  \n“A New National Anthem” by Ada Limon \n“Sweetness\,”  “Give Me Your Hand” and “Song of Death” by Gabriela Mistral \n“Some People” by Wisława Szymborska \n“The Burying Beetle” by Ada Limon \n  \nDeborah asked me to add this: \n  \n\nAlso please add that we only skimmed the wealth of African American poets:\nGwendolyn Books (first black woman to win the Pulitzer)\, Lucille Clifton\, June Jordan and now a whole bevy of current ones: Tracy K. Smith\, Nikki Finney\, Claudine Rankin\, Natasha Tretheway. \n\n\n\nAnd for American Indian women poets\, there are\, in addition to the stellar Joy Harjo: \nNatalie Diaz (her breakout book\, When My Brother Was an Aztec)\, and Oregon’s own Elizabeth Woody. \n\n  \nThere were lots more poems! You shoulda been there! Maybe you were. \n  \nDeborah recently published three books of poetry: The World A Well\, Layers of Sediment and Moment Before. You can order them from her at: dlbadger@gmail.com.  \n  \nWe ended our Zoom gathering with Deborah reading one of her unpublished poems: \n  \nUnannounced \n  \nThe grass moved \ninhalation exhalation \nas the animal slept \nstill but for breath \ncovered by the sky’s night \nwind in the orchard \ndeeper shadows under dark firs \n  \nWe find the grass bowl \nin early morning\, still warm \nstalks flattened not by wind \nbut impress of being \na nest one might say \nyet in soil not air \na vibrant emptiness \n  \nWhile we slept unaware \nanother life another world \npassed by \ninextricably connected \nyet unknown \nhow many each moment \nthese transparent threads \n  \nBreathing the same air \nwalking so closely \n  \n  \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-favorite-women-poets-with-deborah-katie/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/deb_bucanan.600x400.jpg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201225
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201226
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201225T194243Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201225T194315Z
UID:1633-1608854400-1608940799@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Yes\, Virginia\, there is a Santa Claus
DESCRIPTION:DEAR EDITOR:  \nI am 8 years old.\nSome of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.\nPapa says\, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’\nPlease tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus? \n  \nVIRGINIA O’HANLON.\n115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET. \n  \n  \nVIRGINIA\, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds\, Virginia\, whether they be men’s or children’s\, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect\, an ant\, in his intellect\, as compared with the boundless world about him\, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge. \n  \nYes\, VIRGINIA\, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist\, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then\, no poetry\, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment\, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished. \n  \nNot believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus\, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down\, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus\, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not\, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world. \n  \nYou may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside\, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man\, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived\, could tear apart. Only faith\, fancy\, poetry\, love\, romance\, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah\, VIRGINIA\, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding. \n  \nNo Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives\, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now\, Virginia\, nay\, ten times ten thousand years from now\, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood. \n  \n—Francis Pharcellus Church\, Editor of The Sun\, September 21\, 1897
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/yes-virginian-there-is-a-santa-claus/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/images-2.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201224
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210107
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201224T181622Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T122403Z
UID:1620-1608768000-1609977599@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  12/24/20
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nDecember 24\, 2020 \n  \nI believe the soggy clods shall become lovers and lamps… \n  \n—Walt Whitman\, from Song of Myself \n* \n  \nSince water still flows\, though we cut it with swords\, \nAnd sorrow returns\, though we drown it with wine\, \nSince the world can in no way satisfy our cravings\, \nLet us loosen our hair tomorrow and go fishing. \n  \n—Li Po  (701-762 A.D.) \n* \n  \nFound Kin \n  \nArdent champions of comradery\, \nour found kin hold a cherished place \ninside the chest cavity. \nStumble into our lives when we \nneed you most. \nBattle back the self-doubt with \nDeeds\, Words\, Actions\, Presence. \nBlood being equally without consequence \nor measured sacred. \nEmbrace me found kin with gentle \nacts of friendship. \nKeep the wolves at bay\, my hearth fire \nheart stoked. \nAgainst the oppressing laden storm of \nBreathing upon this mortal stage \nFound kin\, I love you. \n  \n—Jeff Kuehner \n* \n  \nElemental Thoughts \n  \nStorm grey clouds frequent windy days\, \nShedding their sadness on the land \nBefore moving on. \nI watch them through my window pane\, \nWishing they would stay awhile \nor maybe take me with them; \nFor a storm grey cloud at heart I’ve become\, \nIn need of a good wind to push me— \nUntil I too shed my sadness. \n  \n—Joshua Barnes \n* \n  \nTHE MEANING OF THIS \n  \nWe are a feather \nmade of wings made of birds \n  \nNo boos \ncheers or other \ninterruptions \n  \nOn our way up \n  \nYes our body has fallen \napart \n  \nBut finally we are floating \n  \nLike this & this \nis what we wished for \nrelishing in our not \nexpecting it \n  \nHere is the inverted valley \n& every blade \nof grass on the godhead asking \n  \nWhat are you \n& who is your name \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nI do hope you enjoyed my depressing poem. Here is another attached to this letter. It’s a piece I’m working on\, but it has been hiding from my attempts at trying to bring it to paper. Where do all these words hide\, anyway? Maybe it really is in between the blank spaces of every page and sentence. I wish I knew! \n  \nHindsight (2020) \n  \nHold your breath a little while \nThe reaper’s hounds are on the loose\, \nTrailing along their invisible chains \nExtinguishing life like a hangman’s noose. \n  \nHindsight: Speaking of history\, history’s made \nThough the irony remains in man’s surprise; \nFor we’ve opened the door to find again \nA trojan horse in a man disguise. \n  \nThe questions now—Will we learn? \nWill these lessons keep and pass? \nOr will the hounds come again \nWhen comfort blinds us of our past? \n  \nBut worry not\, just hold your breaths\, \nFor now just try to dodge the noose; \nAnd watch the hounds’ chains grow taut \nWhen pharma bears its golden goose. \n  \n—Joshua Barnes \n* \n  \nThink Twice \n  \nIf you think once\, that’s good— \nyou’re ahead of the game. But do \nyourself a favor\, and think again. \n  \nThink for yourself\, for number 1. \nThen think for others\, and see \nhow you are woven into we. \n  \nThink for today\, necessity. \nThen think for what comes soon\, \nand after\, all that rich unfolding. \n  \nThink for your allies\, then for “enemies.” \nThink for the human\, then for Earth. \nThink for comfort\, then for deepening spirit. \n  \nWhen anyone demands an answer\, say\, \n“I am of two minds. Give me a moment.” \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n  \nYour Sovereignty \n  \nBy law\, your house is your castle—unless they have \na warrant to enter\, sift through your stuff\, is your \nfortress\, unless the bank holds the deed\, or you rent \nat a landlord’s whim\, unless it’s a tent by the river \nwaiting for the sweep\, a doorway with a blanket\, \na place to stand by the road with your sign\, a park \nbench bed claimed at dusk\, unless you are an inmate \nin solitary concrete cell with stories behind closed eyes \nyour treasure\, unless you flee\, a refugee running by night \nwith only your coat and muttered clutch of words for \nwater\, please\, bread\, prayer\, brother\, sister\, home\, \nunless you are a tribe\, your usual and accustomed places \ntorn away by someone’s treaty\, one who never saw \ndawn come over a prairie\, forest\, camas meadow\, \nunless you are a wren\, your home thickets \nskinned\, plowed\, paved\, and you are made \nto move\, adapt\, or die\, so just before you fly\, \non a wire you sing a last ravishing run\, \nthe song your shred of sovereignty. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nWinter Feet \n  \nEarly morning walk \nDown Broadway \nInner city sidewalk \nStill dark \nStill cold \n  \nEzra\, a man I’ve come to know\, \nSleeps in a doorway \nHis blue tennis shoes neatly placed \nNext to his head \n  \nHis bare feet \nExtend out from the heavy blanket \n  \nI walk on \nThen turn around \nGently pull the blanket over his feet \n  \nEzra whispers a sleepy thank you \nI start to leave \nHe kicks the blanket off \n  \nFeet once again bare \nTo the bitter cold \nLife as he lives it \nExposed \n  \n—Esther Elizabeth \n  \nDaily Bread \n  \nAnother Vet with little means \nhas found ways to appreciate slices of life \nHe goes by many names \nI call him Joseph \nHe waits outside the café in his \nelectric wheel chair \nwith his dog Buffy snuggling on his lap\, \nfour stuffed animals in the basket behind him— \ntwo dogs\, one monkey\, one cat \nOn each side two \ndecorative colorful wind whirls \n  \nI leave the café with leftovers \nWhat do you have for me today \nHash browns\, chicken sausage\, \nwhole wheat toast \n  \nThis is better than last week’s donut\, \nlaughs Joseph \nThis is a real feast\, thank you \nNow let me offer you a blessing \nbefore you walk on \n  \nI weep now remembering his words\, the \nsincerity with which they were spoken \n  \nDear God as I know you \nBless this servant— \nAs she offers me this day my daily bread \nI ask you to offer her whatever she needs\, \nfor we are all in these troubling times together \nserving one another in love \nAmen \n  \nAmen Joseph \nAmen indeed \n  \n—Esther Elizabeth\, two poems from Encounter: Poems of Engagement \n  \nEsther asked me to include her email address. Here it is: \n  \nestherwelizabeth@gmail.com \n* \n  \nWhat Issa Heard \n  \nTwo hundred years ago Issa heard the morning birds \nsinging sutras to this suffering world. \n  \nI heard them too\, this morning\, which must mean\, \n  \nsince we will always have a suffering world\, \nwe must also always have song. \n  \n—David Budbill \n* \n  \nI hope these poems keep you warm. \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in peace & love. \n  \nJohnny \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-12-24-20/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20201220T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20201220T170000
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201213T000937Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201219T193721Z
UID:1604-1608476400-1608483600@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Poetry's Task with Kim Stafford  12/20/20
DESCRIPTION:  \nDear Bibliophiles! \n  \nOn December 20th\, at 3 pm\, our Zoom gathering will be hosted by Kim Stafford\, who recently completed two years as Oregon’s Poet Laureate. Here’s the (new) link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/81054571039 \n  \nDecember 12\, 2020 \n  \nAs I sat still this morning at my writing desk\, before turning on the light\, in the darkness and silence the weather in my mind began to clear from yesterday’s worries and conundrums\, something began to come into focus. In time\, I turned on the light\, and wrote down this thought:  \n  \nA loss is first a pang\, then a memory. Then \, by writing or telling\, it may become a story. Then\, if told with curiosity and courage\, the sorrow becomes a possession\, an element of identity\, and finally a treasure\, a smudge of wisdom. \n  \nThen\, as my habit each morning early\, I explored this thought by shaping it into something like a poem: \n  \n               Schooling Sorrow  \n  \nWhen a sorrow’s young\, it’s pure—stunned  \npang at breakup\, betrayal\, failure\, death.  \nYou weep\, rant\, brood\, slump. And then   \n  \nin the morning\, sorrow starts its epic  \njourney into memory\, becomes an island  \nin your archipelago of sufferings.  \n  \nThen\, if you are strong\, and lucky to have  \na listener—you begin to apprehend its quirks\,  \nto tell it\, shape it\, watch it grow into a story.  \n  \nAnd if you tell your story well\, with curiosity \nand courage\, it then becomes a possession\, \nand in time a treasure\, a smudge of wisdom.  \n  \nThis can be your gift\, your offering—but \nif you don’t school your sorrow into story \nit can never be your friend. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-poetrys-task-with-kim-stafford-12-20-20/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/IMG_1670.jpg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201215
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210115
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201216T011440Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201216T011440Z
UID:1614-1607990400-1610668799@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 12/15/20
DESCRIPTION:Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nDecember 15\, 2020 \n  \nWelcome to our fourth meditation and mindfulness dialogue! The numbers below refer to passages from the book Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh. (JS) \n* \n  \nDear M & M Dialogue\, \n  \nGreetings to all the mindful ones and those learning the art of being mindful. And don’t worry if you are new to mindfulness\, even the ones who have been practicing mindfulness for awhile are still learning to be mindful. \n  \nI am no expert in mindfulness\, but reading a message a day from Your True Home has been a wonderful experience and ritual\, which in itself has brought me joy and mindfulness. Then Johnny suggested that I journal my thoughts\, feelings and whatnot on my daily reads\, so I have started doing just that\, which has brought me a new level of mindfulness and joy. \n  \nAt first I thought I would have little to say\, if anything at all\, for most of the daily messages\, but I have found that to be a wrong assumption. Some of them are only one or two lines\, although I try to keep them short in order to be sure I get my point across and so that others can understand what I’m saying. Anyway\, here are a few excerpts from my journal: \n  \n10/25/20  #354 The Energy of Love: Love yourself! Without that first\, there can be no true love in your life. You cannot love another\, nor they love you without truly loving yourself first. This reminds me of a saying I found that takes today’s love and yesterday’s suffering (10/24/20  #355 Your Suffering Needs You) and puts them together. \n  \n“To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering\, one must not love. But then\, one suffers from not loving. Therefore\, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy\, then\, is to suffer\, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore\, to be happy\, one must love or love to suffer\, or suffer from too much happiness.” (By unknown.) \n  \nOnce you have mastered self-love\, love of another will find you and satisfy your need to be loved. To master that will make not only them happy\, but you will be happy too. I’d rather suffer with love than suffer without love\, and suffering from too much happiness sounds wonderful to me. \n  \n10/27/20  #352 No Enemy\, No Savior: I honestly struggle with the meaning of the words “self” and “nonself.” Does it mean self is like yourself and nonself is like other people? I that is the case\, I think of neither. We are all part of humanity. There is no self or nonself\, there is one. One planet\, one society\, one humanity\, one human race\, and one love which is love for all. \n  \nThat is it for me this month. I could write more\, but Johnny said he can’t publish all my journal entries\, as he has to leave room for others. Upon my release\, I plan to loan my journal to Johnny to read and publish the entries he sees merit in. Peace\, love and happiness to you all. \n  \n—Josh Underhill \n* \n  \n(Michel is keeping a meditation journal on an almost daily basis. He sent a treasure trove of meditations. Here are the first three of twenty. Hopefully\, we’ll be able to do a special edition of the Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue that features more of Michel’s meditations.) (JS) \n  \nNovember 5  AWARENESS OF BODY \n  \nThây spoke first of sitting meditation; which reminds me of Zen—always the “sitting\,” “just sitting” (shikantaza). I’ve been told that this act of simply sitting (or sitting simply?) is the foundation of all mindfulness practice. While this may be true\, I found value and calm from sitting. In the Zen class here at TRCI\, pre-COVID\, that is what I experienced: sitting for no reason but to just sit (simply). I often struggle to make time for this in-cell. A book\, recently gifted to me\, talks about healing past traumas through several steps; the first involves an awareness of body. The author’s idea is that one effect of childhood trauma (no matter the intensity/severity) is the disconnect from body awareness. There are times when I would rather not be so aware of this body’s goings on. There are other times when I wish I could be more tuned-in to what is happening with my body. I guess I’ll be thankful for the times I am aware—pay more attention—and learn to “lean in” to the less aware times: hoping that paying attention when I’m more aware will leak over and affect the not-so-aware times. The body is always present. It is easy to become numb or ignore whatever is being experienced as common. I think by not being mindful of the “common” it is more challenging to become (or be) mindful for the extra-ordinary. It looks like I access the parts of life I think I’m missing out by paying better attention to the ordinary ones. \n  \nNovember 6  CONSTANT TRANSFORMATION \n  \nIMPERMANENCE: Thây’s first word today. Ouch! One of my biggest life challenges has been accepting the reality of change—nothing in my world can conquer impermanence\, it’s all subject to change at some point in some way (even if it is just how I “see” it). I used to hate change. I still am not very fond of it; changes have often caught me unawares and have seemed to my small mind like “BIG” upheavals and trauma in life. \n  \nAs I review my history: the problem was my efforts to fight for permanence\, resisting entropy. Maybe\, one day\, there will occur a major change\, where we all get nirvana\, paradise\, heaven\, or whatever\, and this place of “perfection” might be permanent. I am beginning to wonder if that would be “good.” I recall a saying Jake and Sara used with us last year on Julius Caesar: “‘Perfection’ is boring.” It’s true. For my experience to be “alive” it has to be imperfect\, mutable\, transient\, “impermanent.” The alternative is a kind of “Groundhog Day” sort of life\, where it is always the same\, predictable\, “Boring!” It is hard for me to not desire to be “safe.” Predictable is safe. Reliable seems safe. Change is not\, because I may not know something\, or how to do something. So\, I’m weak. I’m vulnerable. I’m not safe. That place can be scary and difficult to live in\, without some level of fear (“concern”). \n  \nLearning to be comfortable with “me” and what I can do helps\, as I learn to be comfortable with IMPERMANENCE. Thây had two more words which stood out for me today. Within each\, separately or together\, I may find an answer: SELFLESSNESS\, INTERDEPENDENCE. (hmmm….) \n  \nNovember 9   THE GREAT INSIGHT \n  \nI like\, and I’m even attracted to the idea that we all can become a buddha—fully enlightened being. Further\, while “becoming\,” we are all already Bodhisattvas on the journey; aiding and benefitting others’ journey. I am also aware\, and like the idea\, that we are all already buddhas and have only to discover the buddha within. Both of these line up in agreement\, as the second describes what I see/understand as the journey. Isn’t that always the challenge?: Getting out of the way of reality as it is\, not as ego (“I”) tells a story to convince the self that reality is something totally different. I see ego as the source of duality and suffering—the idea of a separate “self” identity. I don’t have confirmation (complete)\, but this seems to be a portion of the truth. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \n“Teaching is not done by  teaching alone. It is done by how you live your life My life is my teaching. My life is my message.”  Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \nThis is not in the book Your True Home\, but it is by TNH\, and when I read it I thought of my parents.  \n  \nMy parents lived the life they loved. They hiked and backpacked and climbed mountains; they played the violin\, viola\, piano and harpsichord\, and welcomed twice weekly chamber music gatherings in our home. They read for hours everyday; the library and bookstores were constant haunts. And art\, all the time. They were nerds. They caused me constant embarrassment as a teenager. \n  \nOver dozens of years my mother took in friends of theirs and friends of ours who were struggling in life – for weeks\, months\, sometimes years. This was often to our young and selfish consternation: “Why do the Jacksons have to come again for Thanksgiving? Their kids always have snotty noses!”  \n  \nEvery two months\, my mom and dad donated blood. “Why in Heaven’s name wouldn’t we?” my puzzled mother mused.  \n  \nThere were vegetable gardens and flower gardens and small tree farms. I smacked my lips waiting for blueberry pie\, then watched as my mom picked and gave away our entire crop most years. “What about your own family’s needs?” we whined. Dad joined in on that one\, but he also grew and gave away every fir seedling he nurtured to Christmas tree size. One year he said\, “Don’t worry\, I’m planting a new crop and I’ll make sure to save you one.” Good luck\, he was 90 years old at the time. \n  \nSo their lives were their teaching. There was no didactic teaching\, no conscious ‘modeling’ to achieve ‘results’ in their daughters. They just lived life with passion and dedication.  \n  \nOf course now I donate blood every two months\, and am hitting 150+ units drained from my system\, having started when I was 18 yrs. old. (“Why in Heaven’s name wouldn’t I?” when someone asks me why.) And hiking\, backpacking and wildflowers are my passion. I have huge gardens so I can give away baskets of golden raspberries and strawberries\, and yes\, blueberries. I grow way too many peonies and iris so I can cut huge bouquets to give away. I read\, read\, read\, and do art\, art\, art.  \n  \nAnd if I’m not mentoring\, tutoring\, or otherwise being engaged in connection with others not like me\, I am at a loss for meaning in my life. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \n138   I Think\, Therefore… \n  \nThis insightful page has inspired my Yoga routines lately! When I do this form of Yoga\, I treat it like meditation. For me\, it’s been a struggle my whole life to just “sit there” and not “be” with so many things constantly on my mind. It’s been nice to just be in the moment and focus on form\, breathing and not everything else. For me to truly be there in that moment I cease all those fleeting thoughts for those 30 minutes every other day. Then\, when I’m done\, I enjoy the practice so much I begin doing stretches while practicing mindfulness. This has become my favorite part of my days lately\, and it’s very peaceful. I encourage everyone to\, at the very least\, stretch and practice just being. \n  \n—Jeff Kuehner \n* \n  \nWandering Thoughts \n  \nMy friends\, I must be honest. I have written this paper six times over! \n  \nI started out writing about good and evil\, page 156. Setting out\, I had in mind an ideal of vanquishing good\, evil and the universal duality….But I lost! \n  \nDuality has successfully wriggled its little fingers into every last nook and cranny; it won’t be going anywhere soon. And after thwarting my attempts at the highest level\, it opened my eyes. \n  \nI’ve realized my “Not Sowing Karma” theme is wrong. Let me elaborate; we all were born upon a set of scales that started to tip in one direction or the other since our birth. There will come a time when we all will make a choice to either live with balance\, or not. Without balance you can only tilt in one direction\, until eventually you fall. With balance you will never fall\, you only have to get there. Only then is there a chance of escape. Escape. Everyone seems to think there are a variety of ways to escape\, but true escape is when you live in every moment and every thing is balanced. \n  \nDuality seems to offer a reasonable solution\, and offers the key to any that seek. \n  \nCould co-existing be the harmony we seek\, could it shine light on the hidden path? The wonder of wonders keeps me wondering still… \n  \nWell guys\, those are this month’s thoughts. Let me apologize if it seems a little screwy. To be honest\, I didn’t think something that seemed so simple would really be complex. Maybe it’s both! \n  \nAhhhh\, I’ll sign off now\, before I have to re-write it all. \n  \npeace & love & everything else \n  \n—Joshua Barnes \n* \n  \nFrom Thich Nhat Hanh’s book Be Free Where You Are\, pages 37-40. \n  \nBeing able to practice mindful breathing under duress\, in an emotional state\, or any unhealthy mindset. This is most likely a life long journey of practice and patience. “An emotion is only and emotion\, we are much more than an emotion.” If we can recognize an emotion before it gets us on to becoming a wreck\, then we can put it under a mindful breathing exercise and meditate on it\, “you will see that you are strong—strong enough to withstand the storm.” \n  \nBut\, “don’t wait until you have a strong emotion to practice. If you do\, you will not remember how to practice. You have to practice now\, today\, while you are feeling fine.” \n  \nI will speak for myself. So often when an emotion arises that I don’t want to have I bury it. But what happens when there is no more room for them? \n  \nThis practice of mindful breathing to calm the storm or just wait it out without incident is the key\, for me\, to getting through many a bad day. \n  \nThere are many forms of breathing. The point I am trying to make is: let’s just take a look at what is going on in the inside of us\, grab ahold of it and examine it under a practice of mindfulness\, calm breathing\, and then maybe we can get a better understanding of what it is that makes us tick…or get ticked off. \n  \nThanks to everyone who writes in the M & M dialogue. This is fun. \n  \n—Brandon Gillespie \n* \n  \n#89 An Invitation from the Buddha \n  \nMr. Underhill\, I am really glad to hear you have started your countdown. I think that reading a passage a day is a good way to finish your set. I know you as a very good\, caring guy and I wish you all the success in the future. Never forget all you have learned these last years and the good people you have met along the way \n  \nThe first line of this—“We live in a time when everyone is too caught up in the preoccupations of everyday life\,…”—how true this is for this year! It seems everywhere we turn there is nothing but blame for this or that\, or: you don’t believe the things I believe\, so I hate you. I believe our differences should be the thing that makes us love and understand each other all the more. Our uniqueness is one of the most special gifts we have. \n  \nI think taking the time to discover who we are\, really down deep\, is the true essence of life. When we start to understand ourselves more deeply\, we can then open our eyes to the way others feel and have compassion for their ideas. We must remember that we are all brothers and sisters on this earth. It doesn’t matter what geographical location you come from\, or the shade of your skin. These things have nothing to do with a person’s character. If we could stop and tell someone hello\, give them an honest smile when we see they have a frown on their face\, or\, if you have to\, tell a corny joke. I am sure\, if the response isn’t immediate\, that they will think about it later and hopefully have a moment of joy—that some stranger would say something so stupid to them. These little things we can do for one another to me are the true nature of life. \n  \n—Aaron Gilbert \n* \n  \nThanks to everyone who wrote last month. It is very moving to read about your experience of meditation and of Thich Nhat Hanh’s writing.  \n  \nJohnny asked if I might write about some of my experiences hearing Thich Nhat Hanh speak. I have heard him several times\, but the only time I remember the content of the talk was the first time\, on the eve of the first Iraq war in 2003. He began by saying\, “Bodhisattva George Bush and Bodhisattva Sadham Hussein had a quarrel.” And in my heart I did a little bow and thought\, “You’re a better man than I am!” He explained that a Bodhisattva is responsible for many beings\, which\, certainly\, Bush and Hussein were. Thây (that’s what his students call him) said that the United States had barely begun to recover from the psychic damage of the Vietnam war\, and there we were embarking on another. He spoke about the young men\, the soldiers in both countries\, whose lives would be wounded by their experiences\, and the pain this would inflict on both countries after the war had ended. I don’t suppose he could have foreseen all the little wars to come\, including Afghanistan\, the longest war in our history; twice as long as the Vietnam war\, and counting. The other night I heard that Trump’s vaunted withdrawal of troops on the ground in Afghanistan only means that there will be more bombing\, hence less targeted violence\, hence more civilian casualties. Thây said\, “I have not practiced enough\, I have not practiced deeply enough…” and then he began a kind of litany: “you who are a teacher\, you who are a student\, you have to practice with us; you who are an artist\, you who are a filmmaker\, you have to practice with us…”and so on. This wasn’t really his talk\, which he also gave… it was his response to the news of the day.  \n  \nThây suggested that each one of us in the audience could adopt a veteran\, a young person who had been damaged by their experience of war and who could be helped to heal by being befriended. We could invite them into our homes\, break bread with them\, become real friends. I haven’t done this\, I confess\, although I have attempted to “adopt” some people who have been hurt by other circumstances of life. I’ve talked with many veterans who are on the streets\, and\, of course\, the healing is mutual. It’s not a question of one helping the other–if a connection is made one can be a friend\, even if the encounter is only for a few minutes. Johnny has embodied this approach to life as fellowship.  \n  \nThere were many other things in this talk–a lot of the breathing exercises in his book The Blooming of a Lotus were given that night. He told a story about his own war experience as a monk in Vietnam\, counting bodies of bombing victims and the song they sang about the beauty of the sky and earth to keep themselves in remembrance of the gifts of life. He talked about someone bringing him food and he said\, “I got enlightened” which is to say it awakened him to the blessing of preparing food\, serving it\, enjoying taste\, even in these circumstances. He said\, “Enlightenment is always about something. Buddhist enlightenment is about the nature of the self.” \n  \nSo what is the nature of the self? If you practice with Thich Nhat Hanh and sit quietly you see that the self is always changing. It has no permanent identity. In the image of Suzuki Roshi\, “I” is like a swinging door that comes in and goes out with the breath. A swinging door is not a fortress. It has a relative amount of importance\, but not much; certainly not enough to start a war over.   \n  \nAs I look over what I have written\, one thing that I notice is the absence of self-cultivation. Meditation is not about getting better. “Meditation” has been co-opted by the American religion of self-enhancement: we want to be better\, thinner\, stronger\, more beautiful\, wealthier\, and we also want to be smarter and calmer and wiser\, and we think of these properties as products that we can purchase for money or time. The meditation salespeople tell us that “practice” is a good tool to put in our shopping basket along with face cream and exercise and vegan or paleo diet and vitamins\, eight glasses of water\, and all the rest of it. But in Thây’s “Buddhist enlightenment” we meditate to end suffering\, to see clearly\, to meet life in all its beauty and horror as it is\, to get over ourselves and befriend our fellow creatures. We don’t need years of practice and we don’t need to cultivate special psychological states; right now in this very moment\, breathing in and breathing out\,  looking into the eyes of the veteran\, or the neighbor (who well may be a veteran) or the cashier or our partner\, we can be present\, awakened\, kind. I have arrived! says Thich Nhat Hanh; we have already arrived in our own true home.  \n  \n—Howard Thoresen \n* \n  \nMy homework for today: study my distress and dissatisfaction. Doctors\, nurses\, and therapists use this format to diagnose physical/mental ailments\, the SOAP format. Bhikkhu Analayo recommends applying the same format to our distress. Identify the problem by its (S) subjective and (O) objective components\, (A) assess the cause\, and then make a (P) plan. My problem today and every day is that I WANT THINGS TO BE DIFFERENT than they actually are. That person shouldn’t be rude. The rules shouldn’t be so arbitrary. The soup should not be so hot\, and it definitely should never be cold. The subjective is my experience of distress/dissatisfaction/discontentment. The objective\, the cause of my distress\, is my desire for things to be different. (Notice the cause is NOT the “errant” situation!) The assessment is that I really need to learn how to accept things as they are OR be more effective in making necessary changes (complaining is not changing). The plan\, using the jargon of this meditation tradition\, is the Eightfold Path\, or learning to behave differently\, shift my mental focus\, and learn to understand how the world actually works\, as opposed to how I fantasize it works. YTH #7\, 19\, and 317 relate to this. \n  \n—Shad Alexander \n* \n  \nAs I sat still this morning at my writing desk\, before turning on the light\, in the darkness and silence the weather in my mind began to clear from yesterday’s worries and conundrums\, something began to come into focus. In time\, I turned on the light\, and wrote down this thought:  \n  \nA loss is first a pang\, then a memory. Then \, by writing or telling\, it may become a story. Then\, if told with curiosity and courage\, the sorrow becomes a possession\, an element of identity\, and finally a treasure\, a smudge of wisdom. \n  \nThen\, as my habit each morning early\, I explored this thought by shaping it into something like a poem: \n  \n               Schooling Sorrow  \n  \nWhen a sorrow’s young\, it’s pure—stunned  \npang at breakup\, betrayal\, failure\, death.  \nYou weep\, rant\, brood\, slump. And then   \n  \nin the morning\, sorrow starts its epic  \njourney into memory\, becomes an island  \nin your archipelago of sufferings.  \n  \nThen\, if you are strong\, and lucky to have  \na listener—you begin to apprehend its quirks\,  \nto tell it\, shape it\, watch it grow into a story.  \n  \nAnd if you tell your story well\, with curiosity \nand courage\, it then becomes a possession\, \nand in time a treasure\, a smudge of wisdom.  \n  \nThis can be your gift\, your offering—but \nif you don’t school your sorrow into story \nit can never be your friend. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nDear Johnny \n  \nThank you for your continued support and love through all you do. I have very much enjoyed (and do continue to enjoy) your recent newsletters. Funny thing\, to me at least\, is I keep feeling like I want (almost to a need) to give you something profoundly insightful to share and lately felt at a loss\, as I’ve read so many things (in your publications) that seem to already say what I would say. So I keep trying to think of something new and exciting—still\, to no avail. Then\, recently (last week)\, not trying to think of anything\, a concept occurred to me on the subject of fate and “predestiny.” \n  \nThroughout my life I’ve pondered fate\, choice and destiny. There have been many times in my life when I’ve wondered about the “what ifs.” What if I had made a different choice at any number of crossroads in my life? Would I still be the same person with the same resolve? At times the “could have beens” seem whelming\, at best. Recently\, the idea occurred to me that maybe both fate\, that you make choice\, and predestiny both exist simultaneously. The example\, or visualization\, that came to me is that maybe life\, our experience\, is like a long\, vast river filled with twists\, turns\, smooth parts\, rapids\, falls\, obstacles\, and that our “fateful” choices steer us around or into these\, yet we still eventually arrive at the same “pre”destination\, no matter what course we take in this river. \n  \nAnyway\, it’s a concept I’ve been mulling over lately. \n  \n—Joseph Opyd \n* \n  \nI’m interested in co-creating “culture that nurtures” with you\, my friends. In #214\, “I Don’t Need These Things\,” Thich Nhat Hanh says: “…negative forces are everywhere. When you turn on the television\, for instance\, you run the risk of ingesting harmful things\, such as violence\, despair\, or fear.” Elsewhere\, he talks about “mental junk food”—ideas and images which don’t nurture us. \n  \nIt’s not possible to avoid mental junk food\, but it’s unhealthy as a regular diet. Where is healthy food to be found? Everyone gets to figure this out for themselves. I’m prejudiced\, but I think our monthly meditation and mindfulness dialogue is healthy food. Many of the people participating in this dialogue are currently living in prison—an environment which has a lot of negativity in it. Whether we are living inside or outside of prison walls\, it’s important to choose wisely what we read\, what we think about\, how we spend our time. Life is short. Each day is precious. \n  \nBecause most television fare feels unwholesome to me\, I’m trying to create my own culture\, my own world—one I want to live in. I make an effort to create an inner world that is rich in meaning\, that makes me happy\, broadens my understanding\, nurtures peace and love in my heart. For me\, certain writers are very reliable in this regard. And I’m always on the lookout for the next book that will teach me something new\, delight me\, give me a fresh perspective\, open my mind and heart. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nTo: The Open Road & all its Travelers! \n  \nHsin Hsin Ming is fantastic. It’s odd\, your choice of subject\, as this is exactly what I’ve been thinking about. \n  \nIt’s funny\, because while I’ve been trying to untangle my own gordian knot\, the answers I sought were in front of me the whole time; but\, unlike the hero in the story\, I used a different way of slicing through my knot. Though I will admit\, the process was much the same. \n  \nI believe one purpose of that story was to show that when we conform to a certain belief\, or thought process\, we are limiting ourselves\, and in doing so will only fail. \n  \nI have been limiting myself for a very long time\, but\, thankfully\, we all can change! \n  \nAs I said in my last letter\, I’ve come to the conclusion that indifference will never do. Balance\, on the other hand\, is a very different story. When using both the positive and the negative\, you allow them to cancel each other out. The same goes for weights and counterweights. This\, when done correctly\, would leave you floating happily in between\, neither drifting to one side or the other\, but in the middle…Balanced. \n  \nThe Hsing Hsin Ming said: “…Make the smallest distinction and heaven and earth are far apart…” and “…If you want to experience it\, don’t be for or against anything…” \n  \nThe only way I can see this working is by achieving balance\, and\, like I said before\, there is only one way to balance the scales. \n  \nThis led me to my next thought and another very helpful piece: “…Caught in duality\, how can you know oneness?” \n  \nYou know\, I puzzled over this for a long time\, and then\, when reading the next line\, found a wonderful answer staring up at me from the page….Unity and understanding. Two beautiful words. Unity is balance and understanding is realizing there can be no balance when striving towards any one thing alone. \n  \nI don’t think the texts are about condemning duality or escaping it\, I believe they speak of duality being the weight and counterweight\, the true keys to achieving balance\, “oneness\,” in order to escape the samsara. We are caught in duality and must make it work. Duality is in man’s nature for a reason\, and like the wise words on page three say: “…following our nature\, we are in harmony with the way\, wandering freely\, without a care…” \n  \nAnd here is where I’ll make my last stand with a final quote: “…to accept everything is to be enlightened…” \n  \nPeace & love \n  \n—Joshua Barnes \n* \n  \nToday\, December 13\, is Bodhi Day\, the Buddhist holiday that commemorates the day that the historical Buddha\, Siddhartha Gautama\, experienced enlightenment. In Thailand\, where my youngest son has lived for the past eight years\, there are numerous temples that display the key moments in the Buddha’s life in a frieze that goes around the inner walls. So that we might step into the scene along with his disciples and remember the teachings.  \n  \nI thought it would be a good time to tell the story of the Buddha’s awakening and the happiness derived from following his teachings. It may be familiar to most of you but worth hearing over and over. I have studied with Thich Nhat Hanh for many years and taught classes with Rev. Bob Schaibly. These teachings are for all; there is no reason to be a Buddhist or practice Buddhism as a religion. But it is good to know the essence of what we are talking about and to honor the original source.   \n  \nBodhi Day is observed in the Buddhist traditions in Asia from India and Japan to Thailand and Vietnam. Bodhi Day serves as a reminder of the wisdom that is naturally available to us all\, the wisdom that comes from looking deeply in the present moment\, of cultivating our minds\, and recognizing that everything is interconnected.   \n  \nSiddhartha\, was born around 530 BC. He grew up in India\, as a Prince born and raised into a wealthy family\, who lived surrounded by beautiful gardens in a spacious palace.  When he was born his parents were told that their son’s destiny was to be a great warrior or he would become a great spiritual teacher. His parents wanted him to carry on with their established life\, they wanted a warrior. Like all parents they also wanted their son to be safe and grow up satisfied. So they tried to isolate and protect him from the world and meet his every need and desire. But as he grew into his teenage years and adulthood he felt like he was imprisoned. Sound familiar!? \n  \nOne night Siddhartha and a servant went out of the palace gates into the surrounding villages.  \n  \nThey first came upon an old man who was stooped over\, using a walking stick\,  and balding.  \n  \nSiddhartha asked\, what does this mean?  His servant explained that this is Old Age.   \n  \nThey went on and came upon an ill person with sores who was in terrible discomfort.  The servant explained to Siddhartha again\, this is Illness.   \n  \nThey then came to a corpse in the road.  And Siddhartha was shocked and asked again.  \n  \nAnd his servant said\, All living things pay a price for life and this is Death.  Siddhartha was frightened by all this suffering. \n  \nThen they came upon a simple ascetic carrying a begging bowl\, who did not want anything to do with commerce and the travails of the modern world.   We too recognize this.  \n  \nSiddhartha soon decided to leave the palace and follow the path of the ascetic to see if he can find release from his fears and this suffering.   He went out into the world dressed in his servant’s clothes\, an 18 year old young man. He went in search of knowledge with this group of poor and dedicated ascetics.   He fasts to the point of exhaustion and realizes ultimately that this will not work for him.    \n  \nThe life of hedonism in a palace as a prince and a life of starvation are not giving him any more understanding about the world.  So he adopts what is called The Middle Way.    \n  \nHe sits\, determined to pay attention to what is happening.   He sits under the Bodhi tree\, meditating until he comes to some wisdom.   He overcomes all temptations after a period like 40 days and 40 nights.   He realizes enlightenment and in the moment of touching the earth he takes it as his witness.   He finds that concentrating on our breath we can be happy in the present moment.  One of his most important teachings is about calming the mind so that we are not overwhelmed by our emotions of fear and anger.  From that day on he started teaching the eight-fold path to inner peace.  \n  \nCompassion and understanding are what comes from mindfulness and meditation  and the practice of looking deeply at our and others’ suffering.  Compassion then can come about and one can move from being to acting without being overcome.  Without compassion fatigue.  This story is related to the western story of the Good Samaritan who helped another without worrying about the consequences from the rules of his religion or culture.   \n  \nThe Buddha in his enlightenment came up with an eight-fold path to follow for living with awareness and happiness for ourselves and others. The essence of the teachings are based on the  five remembrances of the human condition that is a reality for each of us:  \n\nI am of the nature to grow old.\n\nOh how we try in vain to keep our youthful looks.  We even find it hard to believe we are not still our younger selves when we look in the mirror.  Even in our seventies we can feel close to those young adult years.   \n\nI am of the nature to become ill.  \n\nIf we live a healthy life we often feel it is not fair if we get sick\, as though it was a justice issue. We all will become ill as life goes on. \n\nI am of the nature to die.     \n\nThis is something live most of our lives in denial about.  In our culture especially we keep death hidden away.  \n\nEverything that I care about will pass away.\nThis is the teaching of impermanence. Everything changes. We will lose those we love\, and our possessions\, and even our ideas and ideals.\nOnly my deeds will survive me.   \n\nMay I act well to make a world that is lovely and loving. What we do\, and how we do thing things makes a difference.  This is the secret of  peace and happiness and freedom.   \n  \nRemember to pass it on\, pay it forward\, even with a smile\, but especially with our stories. \n  \nI’m so glad you all are enjoying our monthly sharing of Mindfulness and Meditation!  \n  \nPeace and love\, I miss everyone in person. Be well.     \n  \n—Katie Radditz
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-12-15-20/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Unknown.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201210
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201224
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201210T215757Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T122134Z
UID:1565-1607558400-1608767999@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  12/10/20
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nDecember 10\, 2020 \n  \n  \n  \n \nAristotle and Phyllis by Rick Bartow \n  \n  \n \nCharles Erickson \n  \n  \n \nAndrew Larkin \n  \n  \n \nHugo Anaya \n  \n  \n \nfrom Jake Scharbach’s sketchbook \n  \n  \npeace & love \n  \nJohnny \n  \n  \n  \n  \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-12-10-20/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20201206T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20201206T170000
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201205T190417Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201205T191037Z
UID:1550-1607266800-1607274000@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous! MYTHOLOGY with Will Hornyak  12/6/20
DESCRIPTION:On Sunday\, December 6th\, storyteller Will Hornyak will lead a lively Zoom conversation about MYTHOLOGY at 3 pm. Don’t miss this!!! Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/82169567543 \n  \nInto the Mythic! \n     The world’s oldest stories are like venerable ancestors whose voices still speak\, offering insights and strategies for dealing with  contemporary issues and predicaments. Because myths describe great times of upheaval and change\, they are especially relevant to us during times of radical change in our own world.  Storyteller Will Hornyak will consider some ideas from mythologists Lewis Hyde\, Joseph Campbell\, Martin Shaw and Michael Meade about the vital nature of mythology and a “mythic sensitivity” to the world.  We’ll discuss how various myths have shaped our lives and our own personal connection to mythology.
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-mythology-with-will-hornyak-12-6-20/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/1503909239806647-605174-2-.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201203
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210131
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201202T231009Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201205T193845Z
UID:1541-1606953600-1612051199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:COLLISION REPAIR: Jake Scharbach at Froelick Gallery
DESCRIPTION:Sisyphus\, Titian 1548\, painting by Jake Scharbach\, oil on canvas\, 60″ x 48″\n  \nDear Friends of the Open Road \n  \nNancy’s nephew\, Jake Scharbach\, has a show at the Froelick Gallery from December 1\, 2020 – January 30\, 2012. \nHere’s a link to the exhibit: \n  \nhttps://privateviews.artlogic.net/2/1cdd977e49691fb0c6d57e/ \n  \nIf you live in the Portland area\, be sure to see the show! Froelick Gallery is open by appointment\, Tuesday – Saturday\, from 11 am to 5:30 pm. \n  \nHere is a link to a conversation with Jake about his art: \n  \nhttps://youtu.be/cbVVcRRxU2A \n  \npeace & love \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/collision-repair-jake-scharbach-at-froelick-gallery/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201201
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201215
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201202T222744Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250426T170243Z
UID:1526-1606780800-1607990399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Hsin Hsin Ming by Seng Ts'an
DESCRIPTION:hsin hsin ming \nby seng ts’an \n  \nthe great way is not difficult \nit has no preferences \n  \nwhen love and hate are absent \nall becomes clear \n  \nmake the smallest distinction \nand heaven and earth are far apart \n  \nif you want to experience it \ndon’t be for or against anything \n  \nconflict between liking and not liking \nis the disease of the mind \n  \nif its deep meaning is not understood \nwe strive in vain to quiet the mind \n  \nit is perfect like vast space  \nnothing lacking\, nothing left over \n  \naccepting and rejecting \nwe can’t see the essence \n  \ndon’t get entangled in outer things \nor abide in inner emptiness \n  \nwhen the mind is still \nall views disappear \n  \ntrying to quiet the mind \nis just more activity \n  \ncaught in duality \nhow can you know oneness? \n  \nwhen unity is not understood \nboth activity and quietude are failures \n  \nif you deny the reality of things\, all things are lost \npursue emptiness and you stray even further from it \n  \nthe more talking and thinking \nthe farther you go from what is \n  \nstop talking and thinking \nand there’s nothing you can’t understand \n  \nreturn to the root and find meaning \nfollow appearances and lose the source \n  \nlook within for just a moment \nand go beyond appearance and emptiness \n  \nchanging appearances in this empty world \nseem real due to ignorance \n  \ndon’t seek truth \njust let go of your views \n  \ndon’t remain in duality \ntake care never to go that way \n  \nchoosing this or that \nthe mind is lost in confusion \n  \nduality comes from the one \nbut don’t be attached to the one \n  \nwhen the mind is still \nthe ten thousand things do not offend \n  \nwhen things don’t affect you\, they cease to exist \nno thought\, no mind \n  \nwithout an object of thought\, there can be no thinking subject \nwithout a thinker\, there are no things \n  \nthings are things because of the mind \nthe mind is the mind because of things \n  \nif you want to understand mind and world \nsee them as ultimately one emptiness \n  \nin this emptiness the two are one \nit contains everything \n  \ndon’t distinguish between coarse and refined \nand you won’t be for this or against that \n  \nthe great way is vast \nto live in accord with it is neither easy nor hard \n  \nthose with narrow views are full of doubt and fear \nthe more they hurry\, the slower they go \n  \nclinging has no limit \nwe go down the wrong path \n  \nin accord with nature \nnothing comes or goes \n  \nfollowing our nature\, we are in harmony with the way \nwandering freely\, without a care \n  \nfixed ideas can’t encompass what is true \nthey sink into darkness\, become unhealthy \n  \ndon’t trouble your mind \nwhy shun this and desire that? \n  \nif you want to take the one vehicle \ndon’t reject mental or sensory experience \n  \nto accept everything  \nis to be enlightened \n  \nthe wise man does nothing \nthe fool shackles himself \n  \nthe dharma has no distinctions \nthey come from our foolish attachments \n  \nseeking the mind with the mind \nisn’t that a big mistake? \n  \nillusion creates concepts like tranquil and disordered \nillumination destroys liking and disliking \n  \nall pairs of opposites \nare created by our ignorance \n  \ndreams\, illusions\, flowers in the air \nwhy bother trying to grasp them? \n  \nprofit and loss\, right and wrong \nget rid of them once and for all \n  \nif the eyes don’t close in sleep \nall dreaming ceases naturally \n  \nif the mind makes no discriminations \nthe ten thousand things have one essence \n  \nunderstanding the mystery of one suchness \ndifficulties are forgotten \n  \nsee all things as equal \nand all will return to naturalness \n  \nno descriptions or analogies are possible \nof this state where relations have come to an end \n  \narrest motion\, and motion ceases \nmove stillness and stillness is gone \n  \nwhen dualities are abolished \nhow can there be one? \n  \nin the end\, things are ultimately \nnot subject to law \n  \nfor the unified mind in harmony with the way \nall striving ceases \n  \nall doubts are cleared up \nestablished in right intuition \n  \nnothing remains \nthere’s nothing to remember \n  \nempty\, clear\, your light shines \nwithout mental effort \n  \nthought can’t reach this \nbeyond knowing\, imagining\, feeling \n  \nin the realm of things as they are \nthere is no self or other \n  \nif you want to approach and enter it \njust say “not two” \n  \nwhere there are not two\, all is the same \nthere is nothing that is not included \n  \nthe wise of all times and places \nenter into this source \n  \ntruth cannot be increased or decreased \none moment\, ten thousand years \n  \nno here\, no there \nthe whole world right before our eyes \n  \nthe tiny is as large as the vast \nwhen boundaries are gone \n  \nthe vast is as small as the tiny \nwhen there are no limits \n  \nwhat is\, is not \nwhat is not\, is \n  \nany other view \nmust be abandoned \n  \none thing is all things \nall things are one thing \n  \nwhen you’ve understood this \nthere’s no need to worry about not being perfect \n  \nthe stable mind is nondual \nintuition and mind are not two \n  \nbeyond words \nno past\, no future\, no now \n  \n  \n–version by johnny stallings \n  \nsome notes: \nThe Hsin Hsin Ming is the earliest known Zen writing. Seng Ts’an is the Third Zen Patriarch. He lived in China from 529 to 606 AD. The First Zen Patriarch was Bodhidharma\, who lived in the 5th or 6th Century\, and is credited with bringing Zen (or Chan) Buddhism to China from India. \nThe origin of Zen Buddhism is the Buddha’s Flower Sermon. One day the Buddha held up a white flower. Mahākāśyapa realized enlightenment\, and smiled. \nThe first Zen text comes a thousand years later. \nThe “great way” referred to in the opening verse is the Chinese word “tao\,” which also stands for ultimate reality in Taoism. The “it” in verses 4\, 6\, 7 & 14\, also refers to the Tao. \nTranslating Chinese is problematic. I am not a scholar of classical Chinese. I’ve made this version as accurate and clear as I can by consulting many English translations. \nI hope you find it helpful in your meditation and mindfulness practice. \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in peace & love. \n  \n–Johnny \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/hsin-hsin-ming-by-seng-tsan/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/Unknown-7.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201126
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201210
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201126T183717Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T121541Z
UID:1504-1606348800-1607558399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  11/26/20
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nNovember 26\, 2020 \n  \n  \ni thank You God for most this amazing \nday:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees \nand a blue true dream of sky;and for everything \nwich is natural which is infinite which is yes \n(i who have died am alive again today\, \nand this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth \nday of life and love and wings:and of the gay \ngreat happening illimitably earth) \nhow should tasting touching hearing seeing \nbreathing any-lifted from the no \nof all nothing-human merely being \ndoubt unimaginable You? \n(now the ears of my ears awake and \nnow the eyes of my eyes are opened) \n  \n—e. e. cummings  (1894-1962) \n* \n  \nGiving thanks. There’s nothing more important. It’s the difference between living in Heaven or Hell. Something so simple. And yet\, some people’s brains accidentally got programmed to complain. I usually start the day by noticing the miraculousness of everything\, without exception\, and then…feeling grateful. Every day a day of thanksgiving. \n* \n  \nPoetry \n  \nAnd it was at that age … Poetry arrived \nin search of me. I don’t know\, I don’t know where \nit came from\, from winter or a river. \nI don’t know how or when\, \nno they were not voices\, they were not \nwords\, nor silence\, \nbut from a street I was summoned\, \nfrom the branches of night\, \nabruptly from the others\, \namong violent fires \nor returning alone\, \nthere I was without a face \nand it touched me. \n  \nI did not know what to say\, my mouth \nhad no way \nwith names\, \nmy eyes were blind\, \nand something started in my soul\, \nfever or forgotten wings\, \nand I made my own way\, \ndeciphering \nthat fire\, \nand I wrote the first faint line\, \nfaint\, without substance\, pure \nnonsense\, \npure wisdom \nof someone who knows nothing\, \nand suddenly I saw \nthe heavens \nunfastened \nand open\, \nplanets\, \npalpitating plantations\, \nshadow perforated\, \nriddled \nwith arrows\, fire and flowers\, \nthe winding night\, the universe. \n  \nAnd I\, infinitesimal being\, \ndrunk with the great starry \nvoid\, \nlikeness\, image of \nmystery\, \nfelt myself a pure part \nof the abyss\, \nI wheeled with the stars\, \nmy heart broke loose on the wind.  \n  \n—Pablo Neruda  (Chilean Nobel Prize-winning poet\, 1904-1973) \n* \n  \nKim Stafford sent us an approach to a daily writing practice. And some poems. \n  \nWriting as Ritual: Four Elements of a Daily Writing Page \nA chapter from a work in progress\, Writing for Happiness\, by Kim Stafford \n  \nBe the Eric Snowden of your inner life. \n  \nI had been writing for years\, by fits and starts\, when my father’s death opened a \nnew path for my life as a writer\, and as a seeker. By his last will and testament\, I \ninherited the care of his twenty thousand hand-written pages of daily writing \nfrom the 1950s through the day of his death in 1993. William Stafford’s writing \npractice had been invisible to me when he was alive\, because he rose before \ndawn to write\, and I did not. All through childhood\, I would see the literary \nmagazines where his poems were published appear on the coffee table — Crazyhorse\,  \nPoetry\, Cimarron Review — and every year a book or two would come forth. When people  \nwould ask him\, “Bill\, when is your next book coming out?” he would often answer\, “Which  \none?” \n  \nHow did he do that? Simple: he wrote something every day\, and his books \nwere made from about one day’s writing out of eight that he found worthy. \nA few weeks after my father died\, I started to carry the reams of his scribbling \ndown from the attic\, and leaf through his pages one by one. His scrawl was a \nchallenge\, and I sometimes needed a magnifying glass to examine the tangle of \nferal words to tease the meaning forth. But overall\, I began to see four elements \nin his practice that worked together in a way both practical and mystical. \n  \nI want to consider what my father’s daily writing pages contained\, and how \nthey worked for him — and how something like his approach might work for any \nof us who choose to give such daily writing practice a try. His pages\, which are \nnow housed in the William Stafford Archives at Lewis & Clark College\, exhibit a \nvarying daily mixture of four prevailing elements: \n  \n1. Each page begins with the date. Is that even worth mentioning? Well\, it turns out to be strangely helpful — in the act of writing\, and of course for keeping track of the writings. “Once I write the date on a piece of paper\,” he said once\, “I know I’m okay. I have made it to my writing.” This is the “open sesame” move of the daily writing practice\, for by jotting the date down on a page\, you have accomplished the most difficult first step: you have shown up\, and you have begun. The pen is active before any wisdom is required\, and you have stepped humbly into what William Stafford called “the realm where miracles happen.” \n  \n2. Then\, often\, the page would begin with some prose notes from a recent experience\, a few sentences about a connection with friends\, an account of a dream. This short passage of “throwaway” writing\, it turns out\, is very important\, as it keeps the pen moving and gets the mind sniffing along through ordinary experience. I call this stage “the boring prose.” You are beginning the act of writing without needing to write anything profound. No struggle\, no effort\, no heroic reach. Just writing. \n  \n3. Then there will sometimes be an “aphorism” — a freestanding sentence\, an idea\, a question\, a note about a pattern he perceived\, a puzzle. With the aphorism\, as we call it in his pages\, William Stafford would write a sentence that “lifted off” from daily experience to observe an emblem of thought\, a truth\, an idea\, or a private joke. (“It still takes all kinds to make a world\, but there is an oversupply of some.”) This provisional understanding from daily life begins to raise the writer’s attention out of the mundane into the gently miraculous realm of poetry. It is your own koan. \n  \nThe aphorisms in William Stafford’s daily writing rarely become part of the poem to follow (though a few of his poems are built from a series of such lines). Most often\, they are little wonders left to resonate as private treasure\, threshold\, key. A bell has been struck\, bringing the writer to attention. \n  \n4. Then he would write something like a poem… or notes toward a poem… or just an exploratory set of lines that never became a poem. Sometimes there might be a single line of lyric mystery. But he had taken a few steps up the ladder from silence in the general direction of song. \n  \nTo write the date\, some prose\, an idea\, and then poetic lines beyond prose — this can begin a process for distilling from ordinary experience the extraordinary report of literature. For this day\, again\, you have given yourself a chance to discover worthy things. Nothing stupendous may occur … but if you do not bring yourself to this point\, nothing stupendous will happen for sure … and you are likely to spend the balance of your day in reaction to the imperatives of the outer world — worn down\, buffeted\, diminished\, martyred. \n  \nWilliam Stafford’s use of these four elements is capricious. Many pages\, especially in his later years\, show only the date followed by a poem. His long practice has speeded the process. And even in his early years\, he can go many days without preliminary prose or aphorism—or he can jot a series of aphorisms as if he has been saving them to record in a rush. \n  \nMost of us do an assignment shortly before it is due. (That’s often true for me.) It’s better to begin the project when it’s first assigned\, not when it’s due. And\, I realize\, again and again\, it’s even better to practice self-directed searching\, writing\, thinking on the page — when there is no assignment given. This empowers the free range of mind\, of “hands-on thinking.” By something like this daily practice\, you build up a personal sheaf of riches\, a democracy of inner voices\, an archive you can draw from as needed for work and pleasure over time. \n  \nMy students once said to me\, “You give us a deadline for our writing. But who gives you a deadline?” A terrible sentence came to my mind: “Death is my deadline.” There are myriad latent discoveries in me. Daily\, I must bring them forth. For this reason\, several years ago\, I made a vow to perform this four-part practice every day. What works for me is to do this four-step process first thing\, before daylight. I’ve decided to enlist all four elements each day—the date\, of course. And then there is always something to scribble about from the day before—the boring prose. And then—what now seems an essential element in the process—the aphorism. To wait for a thought\, which always appears\, given time and welcome\, is the prelude to true practice. The aphorism is the hinge that begins to turn memory to thought\, event to idea\, scribbling to design. Then a poem\, something like a poem\, notes for a poem. \n  \nThis four-step process on the page became a more mysterious form of beckoning when I learned an idea from Buddhism while traveling in Bhutan. Each place\, I learned—each experience\, each person\, each dream\, text\, encounter—may offer four ways of knowing: \n  \nthe visible \nthe invisible \nthe secret \nthe deeply secret \n  \nSo there it is again: the date—visible. A scribbled memory from the day before—the invisible\, but palpable. The thought—a secret episode of the Buddhist “unborn.” And then … then whatever mystery may come next\, a secret so deep it will not appear unless you use something like this process to welcome what you didn’t know until you do. \n  \nAs I tell my students\, if you follow this four-step process\, or something like it\, you may not compose something of lasting value every day — but it will be a better day! It will be a day that begins with your own appointment with silence\, with attention\, with welcome. Something like this structure can lift your writing into a realm of episodic discovery reaching beyond a simple journal or diary\, worthy as those habits can be. Gradually\, inexorably\, you will accumulate riches to return to\, an archive of discrete beginnings to nurture on the path of your devotions. \n  \nBased on the legacy of William Stafford\, as explored further in my own practice\, I offer this four-part daily writing ritual as a kind of hands-on meditation. And with this pattern\, I propose a year of daily exploration founded in your own version\, as it evolves\, of this daily practice. What will it be like to experience the kind of sustained and sustaining life of writing you have long imagined? \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nWhile many have been locked down at home\, what’s it like to be homeless\, to watch the already fragile future dissolve\, your landmarks of support and certainty vanish? Here’s a poem for anyone feeling adrift in the face of change. I hope you can support programs that help those currently living outside… \n  \nMy Sheltering Sky \n  \nWhen I was born\, when I was helpless\, there were stars \nAbove me blue in their midnight galaxy. \nWhen I was hurt\, there were scars no one could see. \nWhen I was growing\, the sun was dimmed for me \nBy killing silence where there should have been a song. \n  \nDid you hear a song when you were young\, \nA chorus that sang your name with love? \nHow many little ways were you reminded of \nYour worth\, your chance\, your path to rise above \nYour struggles\, a way to feel that you belong? \n  \nOne night by the river when I couldn’t sleep \nFor streetlights glittering the water dark\, \nI looked above my troubles where I saw a spark\, \nAnother world\, a guide\, a star to mark \nMy destination far beyond my pain. \n  \nOn that shore I felt there was fatal door \nI could step through into waters cold \nTo quench my life before I got too old \nIn sorrows\, hard tomorrows\, I could fold \nMy arms and plunge into the deep. \n  \nBut then I looked above it all and saw \nMy shelter\, my sky where stars were calling \nAnd I felt that I was falling up instead of down\, \nAnd I wore some kind of crown \nThat gave me my ticket to the dawn. \n  \nNow I find there’s work\, and worth\, and wonder. \nThough I know my sorrows won’t be completely gone\, \nSomeone helped me carry on and find \nA wealth in heart and mind \nThat helps me know I finally belong. \n  \nFor I looked above it all and saw \nMy shelter\, my sky where stars were calling \nAnd I felt that I was falling up instead of down\, \nAnd I wore some kind of crown \nThat gave me my ticket to the dawn. \n  \n  \n Poetry Doctor \n  \nHow do you feel? \nHow\, exactly\, have you \nlearned to feel — to be  \ntouched\, to apprehend? \nThese twinges you have —  \nof compassion\, empathy\, pain —  \nhow long have you had them? \nHave they grown more intense \nwith age? Do they manifest at  \nsunset? At dawn? In the presence \nof beauty? Of suffering? \nDoes your heart ever skip? \nDo you ever feel dizzy \nwith delight or shame? Has  \nthe grace of a few right words  \never blurred your vision? Caught \nyour breath? Has your heart \never become a drum when  \na song’s words told you \nwho you are in secret?  \n  \nI’m afraid my diagnosis  \nmust remain incomplete  \nwithout further tests:  \nNeruda\, Dickinson\, Basho. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \n“Peace\, love\, happiness & understanding” will be bi-weekly from now on. The next one will come out on December 10th. See you then! \n  \npeace\, love & gratitude \n  \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-11-26-20/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201119
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201126
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201119T172542Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201119T172723Z
UID:1466-1605744000-1606348799@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  11/19/20
DESCRIPTION:Guru Nitya Chaitanya Yati\, Peter Oppenheimer and Nancy Yeilding \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nNovember 19\, 2020 \n  \n“Peace\, love\, happiness & understanding” goes out to people who live in prison and to people who don’t. We might imagine—if we don’t take a little time to think about it—that people who live in prison are not free\, and that those who don’t…are. But our experience shows us that many people “on the outside” have all kinds of fears\, problems\, obligations\, addictions\, et cetera. They are not free. And if we take a moment to reflect\, it’s obvious that every prison resident has her or his own subjective reality. “On the inside\,” too\, some people have a greater sense of inner freedom than others. Nancy Yeilding sent this essay in which she talks about what she learned about freedom from her guru: \n  \n  \nFinding Freedom’s Firm Foundation \n  \nWhen I met Guru Nitya in the early 1970s I was\, without knowing it\, in the traditional state of a seeker of truth\, described in India as being frighteningly tossed about by the waves of the ocean or being like a deer caught in the conflagration of a forest fire\, not knowing which way to turn. My state was one that I shared with many young people of that time\, and many people of all time. Although blessed with many good fortunes—loving care in my childhood\, an excellent education\, free from having to face the extreme deprivations of hunger\, poverty\, abuse\, or slavery\, or to live in the midst of war\, which still afflict many millions of human beings—I was miserable. Every place I had looked for meaning and purpose in life had turned to ashes.  \n  \nIn high school I became happily involved with a local church\, which offered good companionship\, the opportunity to participate in good works\, and the chance to sing beautiful music. However\, as I learned more about the organization and the required set of beliefs\, the first of which demonstrated some pettiness of spirit and the second of which began to affront my intellect and sense of reality\, I slowly drew back\, disappointed. \n  \nAs I came to learn of the Civil Rights movement\, of what made it necessary\, and of the brutality that was often directed at the courageous people standing up for equal rights\, the governmental and social institutions of this land I had been taught to regard as the world’s “knight in shining armor” began to look suspect. Then US involvement in the Vietnam war—which led to the killing of civilians\, the wholesale destruction of the land of Vietnam itself as well as of its neighbors\, the death\, wounding\, and soul-torture of many young men forced to fight\, to die\, to kill\, or to face prison or exile and being branded as cowards and traitors—shattered any sense of pride I’d had about the nation and undermined hope for the future. Along with many others I felt compelled to oppose these actions by letters and petitions\, and by nonviolent protests and demonstrations. Although these actions had more positive impact than is usually acknowledged\, still the government continued to perpetrate violent crimes against humanity\, such as through CIA support of the coup to assassinate and overthrow the government of fairly elected Allende in Chile\, which was replaced with a reign of terror\, along with indications that this was only the tip of the iceberg in terms of immoral and heinous activities covertly conducted around the world. \n  \nAt Stanford\, students discovered that the grand university that had opened so many doors for us—to the bounty of human culture in art\, music\, literature\, to deep insights offered by psychology\, anthropology\, sociology\, the latest in scientific discovery\, and so much more—was deeply implicated in the war “machine\,” through research on campus and through links to the companies that were making the bombs and Agent Orange. We protested\, we brought about some changes\, but our hearts were sad as our eyes remained open to the links that expanded the “military-industrial complex” to the “military-industrial-educational complex.”  \n  \nDuring university years I fell in love with a fellow student\, who\, like every other healthy young man at the time\, lived with the threat of being drafted to fight in a war he felt was immoral\, so upon graduation we took two steps to provide some protection: by marrying and joining the Teacher Corps\, which offered its participants a degree in education and a teaching credential and the opportunity to contribute by working in underserved inner city schools (and a draft deferment!). We were posted to Kentucky\, where I discovered that I was ill-suited to early childhood education (the program we were placed in) and that the social environment was like stepping back in time fifty years. Skills I had honed at Stanford—of thinking for myself\, of speaking up and speaking out—served only to alienate me from most everyone\, who wanted no rocking of the boat\, especially by a woman. I left the program and began to flail about\, trying out many different ways to contribute to alleviating injustice\, poverty\, discrimination\, and violence\, unsuccessfully seeking meaningful work and community. Under the weight of my increasing distress\, our marriage disintegrated.  \n  \nI often became aware that the refrain of a popular song at the time was singing within: “any day now\, any day now\, I shall be released.” It was one expression of my deep yearning for freedom\, though at the time I would not have been able to articulate freedom from what or freedom for what. After returning to California I worked in various jobs\, and explored many possible avenues to meaning and happiness\, none of which proved lasting or deeply fulfilling. My life had the freedom of a will-o-the wisp: I went where the wind carried me. Although will-o-the wisps are delightful to see\, sparkling in the sun as they waft through the air\, and though living as one had many charms\, real freedom was elusive\, as I was also living on an emotional roller coaster and often felt adrift. Once or twice my path crossed that of an old Stanford friend\, Peter Oppenheimer\, who each time told me about the teacher he had met in India and his strong feelings that I should meet him too. Then\, on a spring day in 1973\, he invited me for lunch at the San Francisco apartment where he and Guru were staying\, hosted by some friends. \n  \nIn those days\, teachers from India often passed through the Bay Area\, where they typically appeared at huge gatherings\, treated with a good deal of reverence and fanfare\, rarely approachable by those not in the inner circle. So the first thing that struck me about Guru was that he was unassuming and available. He was even one of the cooks of the lunch! When we sat down he pleasantly engaged in conversation with everyone\, all of whom made me feel welcome. He had a way of making everyone laugh often. The whole afternoon had a relaxed flow. It was so pleasant that when I was invited to return the next day I readily agreed.  \n  \nThat day the invitation also was extended to come along to hear a talk he was giving to a group at a friend’s house. During the talk Guru began to speak about the universal Self that was also the most intimate core self of each of us:  \n  \nInexhaustible qualities of consciousness can be experienced as “I” in me and as “I” in you. It is the same cosmic “I\,” the Word\, the Logos\, that is expressed as the boundless universe—boundless both in time and in space. The transient “I” has the same substance as the eternal Self. What is here and what is yonder there cancel out in the silence of the unutterable and the unthinkable. \n  \nIt was like a bell ringing within as I resonated with what he described. Finally\, here was someone saying what I had always sensed to be true and\, importantly\, doing so in a way that did not offend my intellect. I wanted to know more. \n  \nAs I was being welcomed\, I drove each day to spend time in the apartment on California Street\, and to go along to whatever talks were happening. After some days Guru pointed out that his time in the US would soon be over and he invited me to stay with them for the rest of the time. I happily agreed. I made several new friends\, some of whom are dear friends to this day. There were delicious meals\, lovely outings to parks and beaches\, deeply meaningful classes . . . and at the core of it all was this remarkable person who—besides being wise and brilliant and funny and creative and loving—was happy\, happy in a way that was different from what I had ever encountered before.  \n  \nHe was happy and complete in himself\, not looking to any thing or any one to meet some need\, which would then make him happy. The image came to me of a fountain that continuously circulates. He was like a continuously circulating fountain of happiness\, with plenty to share. That engendered a deep feeling of trust\, trust that I need have no concerns about being manipulated or “used” in any way\, for here—amazingly—was a person who needed nothing from me! It gave me a freedom I had never experienced in a human relationship before. Unsought and unanticipated\, a surety of dedication to the wisdom and love embodied by Guru arose within me right from those early days.  \n  \nFor the next eight years\, to the extent possible given limited finances\, I oriented my life around Guru’s teaching visits to the US. I increasingly traveled\, lived\, and studied with him whenever he was in the US\, and eventually joined him in circumnavigating the world: with stays in California\, Oregon\, Hawaii\, Australia\, Singapore\, India\, and Europe. In order to have money to support myself\, I worked at a graduate department of a university in San Francisco\, I cared for an elderly woman in Palo Alto\, I worked as a typesetter and printer in Portland\, as a landscape gardener in Hawaii\, as a receptionist in an alternative health clinic in Australia\, a secretary at Stanford’s Learning Assistance Center . . .  \n  \nThrough those years a dynamic inner and outer process was taking place. Slowly\, bit by bit\, Guru exposed the falsity of the props that held up my faltering though intransigent ego\, whether based on background\, education\, intellectual equipment and attainment\, companions\, appearance…. At the same time\, through his university classes (Portland State\, UC Sonoma\, Stanford\, University of Hawaii\, University of New South Wales)\, his public lectures\, his books and articles\, and informally and privately\, he spread before all of us a vision of the vast panorama of the cultural\, philosophical\, and spiritual heritage of humanity\, giving us maps and keys to find and unlock the treasures. He revealed the profound gifts of the Bhagavad Gita and the Bible\, of the Upanishads and the Tao Te Ching\, Heidegger and Sartres\, the Buddha and Ramana Maharshi\, Shakespeare and Kalidasa\, Einstein and Eddington\, Spinoza and Kant\, Jayadeva and St. John of the Cross\, Van Gogh and Beethoven\, Basho and Rumi\, and so much more\, vividly helping us to see the links between wisdom-teaching and the creation of beauty and our own lives. Even more\, his own living example of love for each moment\, each being\, and every aspect of life created an atmosphere in which we had the opportunity to attune ourselves to that vision and those possibilities.  \n  \nHis vision was vast and the spotlight of his teaching highlighted a myriad of insights. At the same time it was clear that the philosophical vision and life example of Narayana Guru\, as profoundly manifested in his life through his relationship with his Guru\, Nataraja Guru\, was central. The teaching stories he told of his experiences as a disciple of Nataraja Guru were heart-touching and deeply stirring\, setting off inner reverberations that continue to echo with profound meaning. They inspired me to read everything of Nataraja Guru’s that I could get my hands on: The Word of the Guru (The Life and Teachings of Narayana Guru)\, Autobiography of an Absolutist\, One World Education\, One World Economics\, his unparalleled commentary on the Gita\, his commentary on Saundaryalahari\, and even his magnum opus\, Integrated Science of the Absolute. Each such encounter was like entering a new world and\, at the same time\, having the opportunity to examine my own past\, my experiences\, my assessment of them\, my conditioning\, my thought patterns\, and to throw out superstition\, prejudice\, confusion\, and replace it with clearer thinking and openness. \n  \nI soaked deep into Guru’s own writing as well\, especially once I started taking dictation of his books\, articles\, and letters\, and beginning to edit his books. Most profound was the opportunity to devote a hundred days to an in-depth contemplation and application of Narayana Guru’s One Hundred Verses of Self-Instruction (Atmopadesa Satakam)\, which took place in Portland in 1977-78. In the course of those classes\, Guru spoke about freedom in ways that articulated not only my inner yearning\, but the way I could feel my life blossoming: \n  \nThe passing moments of our lives are to be made lively and rich. One thing I have learned in my life is that the moment that comes will not come again. It’s gone. You can see the moment approaching. Receive it with open arms. Glorify it by enriching it with your joy\, finding a new value\, a new sense of direction in life. Have a renewed sense of wonder. Thus\, that moment becomes eternalized in your life\, it is a moment to be remembered and to be proud that you could live it so well. . . . \n  \nThe only thing is that you shouldn’t drift into darkness. Don’t look at the world as something horrid\, but as beautiful\, divine. Every bit of it. Then we know we are the creators of our own fate. Not through this individual ego with all its vagaries\, but through a full affiliation with the eternal\, supernatural light that enriches everything. Only then will we have the strength to become masters of the situation\, the whole beauty of creation\, the beauty that has painted the petals of the flowers\, which has given shape to the butterflies and birds\, which makes the mountains look awe-inspiring and the oceans look vast\, which makes the clouds float so gracefully overhead. This is where we find our true freedom. \n  \nYou belong to the same overmind of beauty. Not with your ego but with your spirit. Participation in it will reveal to you the divine artist in you\, the divine musician in you\, the divine intelligence\, the divine creator\, the divine lover\, the divine unifier\, the divine peacemaker within you. It’s such a blessing to be in this world\, to be born here and to live here. \n  \nAnd: \n  \nI can go from the physical world of experience to a dream experience to a deep sleep experience. If I go still farther I won’t be able to make any distinction at all between the subject and object. The world of the seer and the world of the seen come together until both are canceled out and effaced. One comes to a neutral area of unity. Once we know that there is an aspect of knowledge which effaces or cancels out the physical world\, the heaviness of phenomenality is not felt any more.  \n  \nFrom this you gain a new freedom. The freedom is to relate yourself to the phenomenal world\, with all the laws which operate in it\, and yet to keep within a calm repose by which you can sit on your own seat of absolute certitude as a witness. \n  \nGuru made it very clear that certain kinds of freedom were dead ends for those seeking lasting happiness and meaning in life\, such as the freedom of rejecting all that had come before\, the freedom of nihilism\, the freedom of pursuing lifestyles based on self-destructive behaviors\, the freedom of amassing wealth and property. At the same time he was not encouraging a withdrawal from participation in life. His own life abundantly demonstrated the freedom of relating to the phenomenal world\, with all the laws that operate in it\, and yet keeping within the calm repose of a witness\, resting on absolute certitude\, even when the passage through that world presented inevitable bumps. \n  \nHe inspired all who came to him to learn more about the phenomenal world\, to uncover its secrets through science\, history\, anthropology\, sociology\, literature\, art\, music\, and through paying close attention to and peering beneath the surface of what presented itself to us right where we were\, wherever we were placed in life. At the same time\, his classes\, his instruction in meditation\, his illumination of the mystical truths revealed by seers and poets\, and\, above all\, his silence\, glowing with serenity and fullness\, led us inward to our own essential nature. \n  \nWe all encounter\, to greater and lesser degrees\, the obstructions to freedom presented by concrete reality\, ranging from natural forces to our own nature\, from the behavior of others in our work places and families to economic constrictions\, and especially the terrifying dynamics resulting from injustice\, oppression\, war\, and natural catastrophe. The great wisdom of Guru’s approach lay in not denying such dynamics\, but in making it clear that we each play a significant role in either exaggerating or minimizing their impact\, as well as revealing our capacity to understand them more deeply and deal with them more effectively.  \n  \nHis own life offered daily evidence\, in the form of writing articles\, convening meetings\, and giving talks to expose and combat injustice and temper political and religious clashes\, writing popular books that revealed the world’s cultural treasures as well as profound philosophical expositions\, counseling thousands of people\, with deep psychological acuity and profound spiritual guidance\, taking action himself such as by sweeping a village road in need of cleaning or planting potatoes to provide needed employment as well as food or advocating for women’s health care or sponsoring celebrations of art\, music\, drama\, and poetry. At the same time\, how he dealt with his own physical suffering and disability provided a living example of what is possible when our identity is with the witness and not the suffering body. \n  \nI learned that the firm foundation created by insightful participation in the transactional realm\, paired with imperiencing our identity with the limitless light of consciousness\, supports freedom of ever-expanding dimensions: the freedom to wholeheartedly commit to manifesting our highest values; the freedom to explore widely and deeply as a blessed lover of life; the freedom to create unhampered by internal and external messages of inadequacy; the freedom to give open-heartedly without being stifled by fears of being taken advantage of; the freedom to be aware of ourselves as part of the ocean of all-pervading love. . .  \n  \nThe gift of such freedom is a priceless treasure for which words are an inadequate expression of the gratitude that continually arises in response. Life itself becomes the manifestation of gratitude and the celebration of love.    \n                \n—Nancy Yeilding
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-11-19-20/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/0-2.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201115
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201215
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201115T185314Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201115T185428Z
UID:1448-1605398400-1607990399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 11/15/20
DESCRIPTION:Drawing by Charles Erickson \n  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nNovember 15\, 2020 \n  \nWelcome to our third meditation and mindfulness dialogue! The numbers below refer to passages from the book Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh. (JS) \n* \n  \nM & M Dialogue Group\, \n  \nI regret that I have not opened my copy of Your True Home to start reading the wisdom within\, nor that I have not written sooner in response to and for the M & M newsletter. As we all know\, things seem to get in the way and/or we make excuses\, but something happened yesterday that moved me to embark on something. I reached my one year mark\, 365 days until I get released\, and so I will read one wisdom each day\, completing the 365 pages of the wisdom within\, realizing “My True Home.” \n  \nIn the book\, I believe I will find that\, as #1 says—“Your True Home is in the here and the now. It is not limited by time\, space\, nationality\, or race”—although I have 365 days until I go home physically\, my true home is not limited by time or space\, those 365 days. My true home is here and now within me. It is also like that saying\, “The home is where the heart is\,” and my heart\, and love\, is within me. As long as I keep love within me\, my home will be in the here and now. \n  \nMy 365 days until release started yesterday\, October 14th\, so I also today read #2\, One Hundred Percent. Although I look forward to reading #365—notice I did not write the heading name\, as I have not looked forward in the book to that final day—I also have thoughts of my life after these 365 days are over\, but I am still in the here and now. “Be there truly. Be there with 100 percent of yourself.” I can only take one day at a time\, it’s all any of us can do. \n  \nI look forward each day to reading a new wisdom from the book\, growing and finding a deeper meaning in life and within myself. With the added benefit of seeing the bookmark move closer to the end of the book\, signifying my physical release home. To all of you reading M & M Dialogue newsletter\, may peace\, love and happiness be with you and within you. \n  \n—Josh Underhill \n* \n  \nResponding to a couple of comments from the October newsletter: Johnny posits two seemingly dichotomous versions of “nirvana.” Either it can be accessed by a few rare souls who practice for many lifetimes; or it is an omnipresent perfect moment that is accessible to anyone who takes a moment to look for it. I wish to endorse a middle ground. Using one of the Buddha’s many definitions of Nirvana (and exercising a certain amount of editing): \n  \n“The practitioner may attain such a concentration…that the practitioner has realized the complete cessation of greed\, hate\, and delusion…Nirvana is realizable even during this lifetime.” \n  \nHistorically\, hundreds of thousands of people achieved Nirvana during the same generation\, and maybe they number in the millions across the generations. So\, not so rare. \n  \nBut to Josh Barnes’ point\, this state of mind seems very elusive. Omnipresent perfect moment though it may be\, we have trained ourselves to see only imperfection. We can thank popular media\, our parents\, their parents for countless generations\, society at large\, and most especially our own selves for our preoccupation with imperfection. But there you have the problem\, we have to untrain some old habits before we can “awaken” to the perfection around us. Venerable Thay describes this at #1\, the namesake passage for YTH. \n  \n—Shad Alexander \n* \n  \nI’m happy that Shad responded to what I wrote about nirvana in the October dialogue. I was hoping that this meditation and mindfulness dialogue would evolve into more of a dialogue as it goes along. Unsurprisingly\, his perspective is a little different than mine. I don’t know. I imagine that the word “nirvana\,” like words tend to do\, means different things to different people. For me\, one of the lovely things about meditation\, is that when we sit in silence\, we leave words aside for a while. When there is inner stillness\, when thought and language fall away\, we have no disagreements—not even friendly ones. For a time that has nothing to do with time\, we have no problems\, no explanations\, no wrong views or right ones. No greed\, hate or delusions. Whatever you call this\, it’s quite a pleasant state of affairs. When we begin the day this way\, the whole day somehow goes better. I think of “mindfulness” as the practice of living in meditation—to the extent we can do this\, which changes over time and even from day to day. This dialogue is a way for us to share our experience and understanding with each other\, and to use words to point to that for which there are no words. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nI decided to change the way I am reading my copy of Your True Home. Instead of reading normally\, front to back\, I am going back to front\, because the numbers are a countdown to me being released. Looking at the book\, I will instantly know how many days I have left. \n  \nOn 10/21 I read #358 “So Many Reasons to Be Happy” \n  \nI found it refreshing. I so desire to be one with nature\, to be in the woods\, smell the fresh air and hear only nature. To touch Mother Earth and for her to touch me\, feeling her embrace. It has been way too long for me feeling pure nature\, and reading #358 at first made me feel sad for what I have been missing\, but then I read it again\, seeing that “Whenever she sees us suffering\, she will protect us.” In this moment I am in now\, she is protecting me with the knowledge that soon I will have the chance to feel the woods and her embrace once again. I cannot wait for that day. \n  \nReading #355 “Your Suffering Needs You\,” on 10/24\, reminds me that every aspect of ourselves\, whether good or bad\, needs our attention. All the good or bad within us are the things that make us\, and they all require attention. But then #350 “Goodness Is Always in You” shows us all that\, no matter the bad things we’ve done\, there is goodness within each of us. Then\, on 11/2\, I read #346 “What Separates  Us” and labels are something that hurts every one of us. Society uses labels to dehumanize and to separate us into groups\, and if we can eliminate labels there can be peace in the world. \n  \n—Josh Underhill \n* \n  \nOctober 7\, 2020  THE SUFFERING OF THOSE WE LOVE \n  \nHOLDING AN EMOTIONAL STATE WITH MINDFULNESS—WOW! That’s a lot to “ask.” Having just finished reading For Your Own Good\, I am\, also\, able to see others’ suffering more easily (than my own). Seeing\, holding\, even accepting my own suffering (a response to stimulus) and my own causes of suffering is not “easy\,” especially to do with compassion…. \n  \nMaybe I can…have some compassion for an other\, and for this other (who is the same in suffering as all others)…holding with mindfulness (of the human “condition” we all share)\, a feeling or sensation\, tied to an emotional state\, and allow space to experience the “feelings.” \n  \nOctober 8\, 2020  A LOVE LETTER \n  \nMy first thought: “How wonderful! I’d love to receive one.” In this message he speaks of transformation: first within\, then in another. That real love is required to accomplish such a task is awesome. To mend a broken relationship could take a whole life of time…. Is it so hard? No. I am often just so scared of being rejected\, turned away\, not even seen for my effort…. \n  \nOctober 15\, 2020  SELECTIVE WATERING \n  \n….I find that\, in spite of doubts\, if I maintain certain spiritual practices then I like the person I seem to be and this experience rarely seems fraught with insurmountable challenges. But\, if I let these practices all fall away completely\, even for a few weeks\, then I descend to a dark place where I don’t like “me\,” and everything is a challenge I can barely face\, let alone master; life gets really hard and suffering ensues…. \n  \nMaybe if each of us finds our path to travel on\, and focuses more on the journey—making the most of each moment\, and enjoying each moment (as best as we know and are able in that moment)—instead of any destination\, then\, maybe\, we will end (personal) suffering and enjoy the experience of life more.  \n  \nOctober 16\,  SOVEREIGN OF THE FIVE ELEMENTS \n  \n….I already have all the skills and capacity to live any life I want. I only need to live that life fully\, here\, now….I am sovereign of my existence. No one else on Earth directs this life I live in any way. My thoughts\, feelings\, words\, actions are all “mine”…. Getting still enough to experience my “true self” at the core is my goal for mindfulness practice—to get behind those ego-stories\, to see beyond those limits to reality. \n  \nOctober 19\, 2020  CENTURY OF SPIRITUALITY \n  \n….I am thankful that a spiritual life is no longer the domain of religious elites—selected\, born\, or bought into such a life. Not everyone sees this\, or desires to do so. I feel a gratitude that my life experiences have afforded me opportunity to learn this lesson and apply it in my lifetime….  \n  \nOctober 21\, 2020   THE SEEDS OF HAPPINESS \n  \nThe first paragraph is a personal reminder that I am the one (and only one) responsible for the story I tell “myself” about the experience “I” have of reality as it exists…. \n  \nI like the metaphor of life as a garden where I plant and water seeds\, pull weeds and even work to “transform” my landscaping to be whatever I choose for it to be. I have a level of control over “my” life. How I choose to exercise my control will impact my results (life experiences)…. \n  \nOctober 22\, 2020  THE ART OF MINDFUL LIVING \n  \n….I can practice being mindful at any time\, anywhere\, while doing anything. This is powerful! It is a blessing to be able to do this mindfulness thing…. \n  \nI like the idea of stopping\, from my daily hustle and bustle\, to enjoy breathing. Breathing helps me connect or remember that I am alive…. \n  \nOctober 25\, 2020  THE ENERGY OF LIBERATION from Be Free Where You Are by Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \nWhat first caught me in this talk was that anyone and everyone\, including me\, has the “seed” for mindfulness and concentration…. I don’t need a monastery\, or a special rite\, or a fancy religion. All I need to do is focus on whatever I am doing in this moment\, enjoy the breath I am blessed with\, and let the rest of the whatever drop away…. \n  \nI think that’s awesome! I have always thought it was “easy\,” but never found a way to explain it. Thây does so eloquently—probably all the years of practicing. \n  \nOctober 28\, 2020  NO BEGINNING\, NO END  #30 \n  \nOnce again\, Thây emphasizes that now is all that is and everything I need is already present\, here in and/or with me now. When I go looking out there (outside myself)—to others\, to the past\, to any possible future\, to things to places—I can never find peace\, whatever I am seeking. When I begin to turn inward\, embracing what is within me already\, I find peace\, freedom\, happiness: nirvana. It’s all right there\, just waiting for me to find it\, as it always was. \n  \nNovember 3\, 2020  THOUGHTS FROM 10/15 MINDFULNESS NEWSLETTER \n  \nI agree\, or find personal resonance\, with your thoughts on #247 NIRVANA IS NOW. Since everything I’ve learned from Buddhism is about learning to focus on and live in the “now\,” why should Nirvana be anywhere or anytime other than now? My biggest challenge in life is tied to now presence; paying full attention to the “now” I experience\, well…now. I find it very easy to get lost in past “realities” or future dreams. \n  \nI also resonate with Brandon G’s thoughts about cookie cutter life: seems deeply connected to challenge of now-presence. Before prison\, even inside\, too\, it gets easy to develop a routine (cookie cutter life) and stay in this “rut.” “It’s comfortable\,” I’ll say to self. I once had a counselor point out that a “rut” is only a grave with the ends knocked out. Cookie cutter life\, comfortable life—it’s just happy in a rut! \n  \nMichel Deforge \n* \n  \nThe Secret behind Our Strife  \n  \nI\, so sure of myself\, so ready \nto explain why I am right— \nI live in a body that will die\, and all \nmy brave words be gone to the sky.  \n  \nAnd you\, with your shouted reasons \nI am wrong\, you live in a body \nthat will fall\, be still\, be mourned \nfor the peace you might have found.  \n  \nShall you and I\, knowing this now\, \nset our strife aside\, pause our proclamations \ninto curiosity\, listening to see what we \nmight learn\, one from another? \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nWhat to say about meditation? \n  \nThanks for all the beautiful writing in the last edition! \n  \nEvery month or two I teach beginning meditation for my Zen temple. I love doing it\, but after many years I have a bit of a routine\, so last time I taught\, I thought I would go back to Dogen\, the 13th Century founder of Soto Zen Buddhism in Japan\, and see what he had to say to beginners. In vintage Dogen style\, he starts off by saying that everything is perfect and complete as it is\, so what is the point of doing some kind of practice? The Way is right here and now\, so what is the use of study\, meditation\, and other efforts to “improve”? And yet\, we know that we become distracted\, angry\, confused\, and have the feeling we have lost our way; in a word\, we suffer. We want to be free of our suffering. And we have the example of wise people we admire who practice meditation. Dogen concludes: You should therefore cease from practice based on intellectual understanding\, pursuing words and following after speech\, and learn the backward step that turns your light inwardly to illuminate your self. Body and mind of themselves will drop away\, and your original face will be manifest. If you want to attain suchness\, you should practice suchness without delay.  \n  \nI recently came across a talk by Krishnamurti that was in a similar vein. He was asking his audience\, “Why do you meditate? Why do you do this thing that various teachers from the East have said you should do? Do you have an idea you will have some extraordinary experience? Are you trying to imitate another person? Ask yourself\, why am I meditating? What is my motive?” And then he says\, “When you look deeply into your life\, when you investigate a question you really care about\, you become very quiet and completely still without any effort. Meditation arises spontaneously when you look deeply\, without fear\, without knowing what you will find.” \n  \nMeditation is not self-calming. One idea about meditation is that it came out of hunting culture. When a hunter is waiting for their prey\, they must be awake\, alert\, sensitive\, ready; the mind has to be free of distraction and the body has to be relaxed\, able to move in any direction. I mentioned this to a friend the other day and he started to imitate his cat waiting for a mouse to come out of its hole. His body became graceful\, energetic\, ready to pounce but without any tension. His eyes became focussed on the imaginary mouse-hole. The room vibrated with concentration\, energy\, and stillness. Vegetarians like myself don’t always like this idea\, but there might be something to it. \n  \n—Howard Thoresen \n* \n  \nDear Johnny\, \n  \n….What I have been thinking of a lot lately is birth and death\, rather well known topics. Anyway here are some poems that seem to fit that thinking.  \n  \nlove\, Deb \n  \nInsight \n  \nAfter we die we hover for a while \nat treetop level with the mourners \nbeneath us\, but we are not separate \nfrom them nor they from us. \nThey are singing but the words \ndon’t mean anything in our new language \n  \n—Jim Harrison \n  \nThe Old People \n  \nPantcuffs rolled\, and in old shoes\, \nthey stumble over the rocks and wade out \ninto a cold river of shadows \nfar from the fire\, so far that its warmth \nno longer reaches them. And its light \n(but for the sparks in their eyes \nwhen they chance to look back) \nscarcely brushes their faces. Their ears \nare full of night: rustle of black leaves \nagainst a starless sky. Sometimes \nthey hear us calling\, and sometimes \nthey don’t. They are not searching \nfor anything much\, nor are they much \nin need of finding something new. \nThey are feeling their way out into the night\, \nletting their eyes adjust to the future. \n  \n—Ted Kooser \n  \nIn Memory of Joseph Brodsky \n  \nIt could be said\, even here\, that what remains of the self \nUnwinds into a vanishing light\, and thins like dust\, and heads \nTo a place where knowing and nothing pass into each other\, and through; \nThat it moves\, unwinding still\, beyond the vault of brightness ended\, \nAnd continues to a place which may never be found\, where the unsayable\, \nFinally\, once more is uttered\, but lightly\, quickly\, like random rain \nThat passes in sleep\, that one imagines passes in sleep. \nWhat remains of the self unwinds and unwinds\, for none \nOf the boundaries holds — neither the shapeless one between us\, \nNor the one that falls between your body and your voice. Joseph\, \nDear Joseph\, those sudden reminders of your having been — the places \nAnd times whose greatest life was the one you gave them — now appear \nLike ghosts in your wake. What remains of the self unwinds \nBeyond us\, for whom time is only a measure of meanwhile \nAnd the future no more than et cetera et cetera …but fast and forever. \n  \n—Mark Strand \n  \nThe Hammock \n  \nWhen I lay my head in my mother’s lap \nI think how day hides the stars\, \nthe way I lay hidden once\, waiting \ninside my mother’s singing to herself. And I remember  \nhow she carried me on her back \nbetween home and the kindergarten\, \nonce each morning and once each afternoon. \n  \nI don’t know what my mother’s thinking. \n  \nWhen my son lays his head in my lap\, I wonder: \nDo his father’s kisses keep his father’s worries \nfrom becoming his? I think\, Dear God\, and remember \nthere are stars we haven’t heard from yet: \nThey have so far to arrive. Amen\, \nI think\, and I feel almost comforted. \n  \nI’ve no idea what my child is thinking. \n  \nBetween two unknowns\, I live my life. \nBetween my mother’s hopes\, older than I am \nby coming before me\, and my child’s wishes\, older than I am \nby outliving me. And what’s it like? \nIs it a door\, and good-bye on either side? \nA window\, and eternity on either side? \nYes\, and a little singing between two great rests. \n  \n—Li-Young Lee \n  \nThe Archaic Maker \n  \n          The archaic maker is of course naive. If a man he listens. If a \nwoman she listens. A child is listening. A train passes like an underground river. It enters a story. \n          The river cannot come back. the story goes on. It uses some form \nof representation. It does not really need much by way of gadgets\, apart \nfrom words\, singing\, dancing\, making pictures and objects that resemble \nliving shapes. Things of its own devising. \n          The deafening river carries parents\, children\, entire families waking \nand sleeping homeward. \n          The story passes stone farms on green hillsides at the mouths of valleys \nrunning up into forests full of summer and unheard water. \n           In the story it is already tomorrow. A time of memories incorrect \nbut powerful. Outside the windows is the next of everything. \n          One of each. \n          But here is ancient today \n          itself \n          the air the living air \n          the still water \n  \n—W. S. Merwin \n  \nOpus From Space \n  \nAlmost everything I know is glad \nto be born—not only the desert orangetip\, \non the twist of tansy; shaking \nbirth moisture from its wings\, but also the naked \nwarbler nesting\, head wavering toward the sky\, \nand the honey possum\, the pygmy possum\, \nblind\, hairless thimbles of forward\, \npress and part. \n  \nAlmost everything I’ve seen pushes \ntoward the place of that state as if there were \nno knowing any other—the violent crack \nand seed-propelling shot of each witch hazel pod\, \nthe philosophy implicit in the inside out \nseed-thrust of the wood sorrel. All hairy \nsaltcedar seeds are single-minded \nin their grasping of wind and spinning \nfor luck toward birth by water. \n  \nAnd I’m fairly shocked to consider \nall the bludgeonings and batterings going on \nconinually\, the head-rammings\, wing furors\, \nand beak-crackings\, fighting for release \ninside gelatinous shells\, leather shells\, \ncalcium shells or rough\, horny shells. Legs \nand shoulder\, knees and elbows flail likewise \nagainst their womb walls everywhere\, in pine \nforest niches\, seepage banks and boggy \nprairies\, among savannah grasses\, on woven \nmats and perfumed linen sheets. \n  \nMad zealots\, every one\, even before \nbeginning they are dark dust-congealings \nor pure frenzy to come into light. \n  \nAlmost everything I know rages to be born\, \nthe obsession founding itself explicitly \nin the coming bone harps and ladders\, \nthe heart-thrusts\, vessels and voices \nof all those speeding with clear and total \nfury toward this singular honor. \n  \n—Pattiann Rogers \n  \n—Deborah Buchanan \n* \nNovember 12\, 2020 \nMeditation and Mindfulness \n  \n#9  I Have Arrived \n#44  We Already Have Enough \n#130  Appreciating Simple Joys \n  \nThese three principles express what my heart has followed for most of my life. I have been unaware of ‘wanting more\,’ or ‘needing more\,’ even though there were many lean years when I could have felt that. But here they are! All expressed far more lucidly than I have ever been able to explain them\, or defend them to others\, so I am grateful to Thich Nhat Hanh for that. \n  \nA few examples: When I married my first husband\, we didn’t have a ring\, so I used a friendship ring that a high school girlfriend had given me. She got it in Mexico and it cost about $1.00. I liked it. Bill kept asking when we were going to get a ‘real’ ring. I told him I was fine\, that I liked this ring just fine. He said\, “Boy\, you are low maintenance!” And from then on his nickname for me was\, “LM.” \n  \nExample #2: I had a large piece of art in a gallery exhibit in Portland. The title was\, “Affordable Pleasures.” At the gallery opening\, a man of considerable means was admiring it\, and he chuckled and said\, “Ah\, I get it. You have to have a lot of money to afford this\, right?” In consternation I said\, “Well\, no. It refers to the subject matter; the broken reflection of the moon on the water. Looking at the moon on the water is an affordable pleasure for everyone.” He said\, dismissively\, “Oh well\, whatever. I’ll buy it!” I said\, “No. You won’t.” \n  \nExample #3: My dad assiduously pruned and raked and composted everything. He had half a dozen magnificent compost piles. Fluffy\, friable\, fragrant piles\, each was about 6-8 cu. yds. He named them after composers (not composters). My all-time favorite Christmas present was the W. A. Mozart Memorial Compost Pile. \n  \nMy second favorite Christmas present was from my daughter’s boyfriend; about two dozen cleaned\, washed\, dried\, smoothed out sheets of aluminum foil that he had saved for me from his noontime deli sandwiches. He knew that I used and reused aluminum foil for years\, and this was his very thoughtful gift to me. \n  \nI have never been very big on ‘goals\,’ or ‘progress\,’ or ‘consumption.’ I have simple\, but innumerable pleasures: Raisins on my cereal\, stars in an inkwell black sky\, nuzzling my dog’s fur\, singing\, planting\, smell of fir needles in the sun\, deer munching on my dahlias\, cooking\, Goodwill\, art\, hiking\, the seasons…all of them. \n  \nTo me there is a distinction between pleasures and joy. Pleasure is the ripples of water on the surface. Joy is the deeper down\, abiding current. Pleasure is the hot\, bright\, snappy flame of a fire. Joy is the quiet\, calm but intense\, slowly glowing embers below. \n  \nSo again\, my thanks to Mr. T. N. Hanh (if I may call him that) for helping me express these thoughts. I don’t know if I could have done it without his guidance with these three principles. \n  \n—Jude Russell  \n* \n  \n[See drawing of elephant and sphere at the top.] \n  \nAbstract idea/concrete image. Both at once between sleep and waking. \n  \nI woke and found this present in mind and made a drawing quickly before it faded away. \n  \nThe sphere was\, simply\, everything. The elephant was God. \n  \nWhen I was drinking coffee later\, I added fancy titles from out of my memory: \n“All and Everything\,” title of a favorite book\, for the sphere; \n  \nand “That which is Other than All that Is\,” for the elephant; a memory from  my time at college fifty years ago\, when I read what a theologian had written about God as “radically other.” \n  \n—Charles Erickson \n* \n  \nThank you\, everyone! \n  \nThat’s a wrap for our third Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue. If you enjoyed it\, please send me something for the December 15th issue. You can use Your True Home or anything else for inspiration. Feel free to respond to something that someone wrote in any of our dialogues\, including this one.  Share a poem you wrote\, or a poem that someone else wrote that you like. Or whatever thoughts might be wandering through your mind. \n  \n(If you go to the EVENTS page on this website and click on “Previous Events\,” you can find our September and October dialogues.) \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in peace & love. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-11-15-20/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/0-8.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201112
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201119
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201112T160428Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201112T161225Z
UID:1438-1605139200-1605743999@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  11/12/20
DESCRIPTION:Lonnie Glinski as Ophelia and Timothy Hinkhouse as Laertes in the 2015 production of Hamlet at Two Rivers prison \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nNovember 12\, 2020 \n  \nI got a letter from Lonnie Glinski this week. He wrote this: \n  \nThe current times are somewhat frightening for society. I know this is antithetical to my recently written statement about only observing\, but I cannot help but ache for some peace and compassion when so much of society is embracing dishonesty\, hatred and prideful ambitions. Has it always been this way? Have only the justifications for such ambitions shifted from time to time? \n  \nEven some demonstrations are teaching hate in the name of love. Some time ago I attended a music concert by an outside religious group. Shocking was the observation that every spoken sentence had to invoke the name of Jesus once\, even twice–three times or more were extra credit. Feeling assaulted\, like the name of Jesus was a club\, I was inspired to write the song I now include. The meaning of which was that the teachings and message of Jesus  was left unspoken\, unaddressed\, as long as the name was invoked again and again. \n  \nSomebody Famous \n  \nvs 1   \nWand’ring through the years \nLooking far and looking near \nSeeking clues in many ways\, \nSolutions to the fears \nAccidentally finding answers \nEmpowering one to tears \nHeaven inside realized \nIn the things somebody famous once said \nIn the things somebody famous once said. \n  \nChorus \nSomebody\, somebody\, somebody famous \nSomebody\, somebody\, you know what the name is \nFamous\, famous\, somebody famous \nFamous\, famous\, somebody famous once said. \n  \nvs 2 \nSomebody famous once said \nLove your neighbor as yourself \nLet your light shine\, keep it high on the shelf \nTreat ev’ryone as you want to be \nWe are all one big family \nIn the things somebody famous once said \nIn the things somebody famous once said. \n  \nBridge \nFor the poor in spirit\, heaven realized \nThe meek shall inherit\, merciful in kind \nThe pure in heart\, see God shall he \nThose who mourn\, comforted and freed \nIn the things somebody famous once said \nIn the things somebody famous once said. \n  \nvs 3 \nSomebody famous once said\, find your pearl of great price \nMy burden is light\, come to me as a child \nDon’t be a camel stuck in the needle’s eye \nFollow me and never die\, \nIn the things somebody famous once said \nIn the things somebody famous once said. \n* \n  \nHere’s from a letter Lonnie wrote me on October 13th: \n  \nDear Johnny\, \n  \nSeveral things you have written and sent to me lately have spoken to me quite close to my recent thought. \n  \nOne is your being called a hippie. That title has been directed at me lately\, since I have let my hair grow out. Dozens have told me\, and people currently still tell me\, to get my hair cut. \n  \nOn the one hand\, I am shocked by the number of people who seem to care that “I” am growing out “my” hair. Yet\, at the same time\, I’m entertained by the vehemence and anger toward my hair being long. I find my quick head twirls\, so the hair swirls from side to side\, does little to assuage their frustration…. \n  \nAnd of course your writing about a golden world is related to my recent song topic of “Bloom where you landed.” It’s the bluesy\, striking music I put to it that brings it alive for me. But\, here it is: \n  \nImagi- \nnation never imagined I’d be here today \nLessons learned\, tables turned\, mistakes along the way \nThough I cannot go where my heart longs to go \nI gotta bloom where I am\, bloom where I’ve landed \n  \nThe roads I drove\, the choices I chose\, \nthe words I spoke and the feelings that grow \nNow I cannot go where my heart longs to go \nI gotta bloom where I am\, bloom where I’ve landed \n  \nI’ve travelled through the air to who knows where \nI’ve journeyed by water\, sometimes wet for hours \nI’ve fallen from trees\, landing like a nut \nStill gotta bloom where I am\, bloom where I’ve landed \n  \nStanding\, crawling\, climbing\, falling\, the winds blew you \nRough or smooth future calling\, destination news to you \nHelp someone like someone helped you \nYou gotta bloom where you are\, bloom where you’ve landed \n  \nBloom like you did in the day when someone cared \nBloom like you did when the way someone clears \nBloom like you’ve done when you felt at home \nBloom where you’re at\, bloom where you’ve landed \n* \n  \nSo\, that’s what I’m doing\, trying to bloom where I’ve landed. \n  \nLonnie \n* \n  \nOn August 20th\, Lonnie sent this song: \n  \nAnd They Just Smile \n  \nMentions I hear\, someone named Trouble \nI try to name the face\, but I’m unable \nWalk\, often-times I hear: here comes Trouble \nTaking my chance\, turn round really fast…and they just smile \n  \nWalk past\, sometimes I hear: there goes Trouble \nTurning\, no one’s there\, only empty air \nShould I fear that Trouble may be near? \nAsk where Trouble went…and they just smile \n  \nChorus \nClosed-door community\, same faces to see \nSeeking notorious version\, of this Trouble person \nWhere can he be found?\, not there when I turn around \nPlease point Trouble out…and they just smile \n  \nChorus repeat \n  \nIntense mystery\, Trouble passes so nearly \nAround and around I go\, really do I want to know \nWhere can he be found?\, not there when I turn around \nAnd why\, oh why\, do they just smile? \n  \nShould I be a’worrying\, Trouble near concerning? \nWhere can I go that Trouble cannot follow? \nWhere can he be found?\, not there when I turn around \nReally\, do I want to know?…and they just smile \n  \nOutro (loosely) \nAnd why\, oh why\, won’t you point him out? \nAnd why\, oh why?—come on\, help me out \nAnd tell me why\, oh why\, do they just smile? \nAnd why\, oh why\, oh why\, do you just smile? \n* \n  \nI began sending “peace\, love\, happiness & understanding” to friends inside and outside of prison\, last Spring Equinox\, after COVID arrived. This is from a letter Lonnie wrote last April 22nd that includes another song: \n  \nThanks for including me on your mailing list. The issue I have enjoyed the most so far was the one on humor. Which fits in well with a song that came to me as I lay there between the states of sleep and wakefulness. While I usually have a message or a theme to construct a song\, this one came all out of the blue with no premeditation. I had to get up and write it down immediately\, or else\, like so many others\, it fades away like a fog fades to the rising sunshine. \n  \nIt ain’t me \n  \nvs 1 \nSomeone squeezed the last toothpaste\, left me an empty tube \nSomeone used the last shampoo…now what am I to do? \nI know it was my cellie\, I’m gonna give ‘im hell \nBut…I live in a single cell \n  \nChorus 1 \nIt wasn’t me\, it ain’t me—doing things irresponsibly \nIt ain’t me\, it couldn’t be\, always leaving me in some fix \nMy cellie’s gonna catch hell\, don’t care I’m in a single cell \n‘Cause it wasn’t me \n  \nBridge 1 \nI know it was him who ate that last cracker \nI know it was him who ate that last chip \nI know it was him who used that ticket I know I had \nI know it was my cellie\, gonna give ‘im hell \nRegardless\, I’m in a single cell \n  \nChorus 2 \nIt wasn’t me; it ain’t me \nLike the Family Circus comic strip\, it wasn’t me \nDon’t watch same TV shows\, nor songs on the radio \nI’m gonna give ‘im hell for changing that dial \n‘Cause I know it wasn’t me \n  \nBridge 2 \nHe hides things so I can’t find ‘em \nKnocks over things I’ve been organizin’ \nEmpties things I know without a doubt were full \nI know it was my cellie\, gonna give ‘im hell \nRegardless\, I’m in a single cell \n  \n  \nWith spending so much time in our cells\, others can probably relate. \n  \n—Lonnie Glinski \n* \n  \nWell\, that’s about it for the Lonnie Glinski Issue. Thanks Lonnie\, for bringing smiles to a lot of faces. \n  \nMay all people be happy. \n  \n—Johnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-11-12-20/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/hamlet_slideshow-054.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201105
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201112
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201105T162152Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T121425Z
UID:1414-1604534400-1605139199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  11/5/20
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nNovember 5\, 2020 \n  \nNancy Yeilding sent this excerpt from Love and Blessings\, the autobiography of Guru Nitya Chaitanya Yati: \n  \nWhen I was in my mid-teens I saw Mahatma Gandhi\, the founder and father of modern India. He was revered as a great saint. He believed fervently in the nonviolence of Christ\, and he taught that India should be converted to a creed of pacifism. He taught that one should win another’s heart by love. \n  \nAt that time\, Britain was ruling India with full military force. To fight the British forces\, which were armed with guns and bayonets\, the Indians were made to march with slogans of nonviolence and peace. As a young man I thought this was very foolish. I had been extensively indoctrinated by the Marxist-Leninist groups\, even somewhat brainwashed\, to believe that the only possible redemption for India lay in a revolution organized exactly as the one in Russia had been. I had been made to believe that all of humanity could be divided into two groups: the exploiters and the exploited\, the haves and the have-nots. However\, it was difficult for me to decide whether my father was exploited or an exploiter. \n  \nThis mythical division into two classes\, two class interests\, and class warfare all looked very reasonable to me. I thought that if only Mahatma Gandhi read a little of Marx and understood his true philosophy\, India would be saved. Little did I know that he had lived in England and had every access to all the literature of Marx and Lenin\, and that he knew all about revolution. I was so young and stupid\, yet fanatically indoctrinated. So I found my way to the inner circle of the saint\, and looked for an opportunity to present my gospel of class war to him. \n  \nWhen my chance came\, I gave him a non-stop oratory on class warfare\, as well as how useless his method of nonviolence was. He listened to me very carefully. That is my greatest surprise today. When I came to my final conclusion\, he looked quite calm. \n  \nThen he asked me\, “Are you sincere?”  \n  \nThat infuriated me: if I were not sincere\, would I have gone out of my way to bring him this great message? I shouted that I was very sincere.  \n  \nHe went on\, “You are speaking with conviction?”  \n  \n“Of course!”  \n  \n“Do you think I have no conviction about what I say?”  \n  \nI had never thought of that before. I said\, “Yes\, you must have conviction.”  \n  \n“Am I sincere?”  \n  \n“Maybe….” \n  \n“Are you not saying something which is in total contradiction to what I say?”  \n  \n“Yes.”  \n  \n“Don’t you see the possibility of two people with contradictory views both having full conviction and sincerity?”  \n  \n“Yes.”  \n  \n“You are asking me to stand in your footsteps and look. Have you ever considered the possibility of standing in my footsteps and looking? If I stand in your angle of vision\, I will see what you see. That’s what you want me to do. Suppose I invite you to stand in my angle of vision and look at the same thing. Are you prepared for that?” \n  \nI was certainly not prepared\, but I didn’t say so.  \n  \nHe continued\, “Young man\, truth is many faceted. You can look at it from a number of points of view\, and from each angle you will get a different perspective. All that you have said is known to me\, but what I see you have no patience to consider.”  \n  \nI thought that was right. Although I had been listening to him for a week\, waiting for my opportunity to pontificate\, I had never really listened to him. I was only listening to myself\, to my objections to whatever he was saying.             \n  \nThis simple incident was a great turning point in my life. It completely silenced me. Thereafter\, when I talked with another person it always occurred to me that there could be one more way of looking at truth. I learned to step down from my pedestal and walk over to the other person’s\, to sympathetically get into his way of seeing. To me\, this was the beginning of a great discovery of what a wonderful world we live in and how rich our human heritage is. \n  \n—Nitya Chaitanya Yati \n* \n  \nMy father was so convinced of the rightness of his opinions that he would raise his voice and try to browbeat people into agreeing with him. It never worked. He got into a lot of arguments and even lost some of his closest friends\, because when they failed to agree with him he said abusive things to them that they could not forgive. They stopped speaking to each other. \n  \nUnconsciously\, I learned to argue from my dad. I had to be right about everything. Mr. Know-It-All. I was self-righteous in my opposition to war—convinced that anyone who didn’t agree with me was dead wrong. \n  \nIn my twenties\, I was one of Nitya’s students. I lived with his teacher\, Nataraja Guru\, in India for a year. His diagnosis was: “You have too high an opinion of your own opinions.” \n  \nFast forward to 2006\, when I began facilitating meaning-of-life dialogues at Two Rivers prison in Umatilla\, Oregon. In my proposal to the administration\, I named the program “The Stories We Tell Ourselves: How Our Thinking Shapes Our Lives.” The first thing I noticed\, sitting in a circle with twelve or sixteen guys\, was that we all had different backgrounds and beliefs—different life experiences. Each of us had formed our own understanding of who we are and how the world works. It would be impossible to get everyone to agree with all my views. And it would be disrespectful of them to try convert them to Johnnyism. The beauty of the thing is that we weren’t all alike—like robots. If we listened to each other—without arguing or trying to convince the others to think like us\, to believe what we believe—we might learn something. \n  \nIn 2014\, we did the play “Twelve Angry Men” at Two Rivers prison. The play is aptly named. In that jury room\, everyone’s anger is on a hair-trigger. And they are all convinced that anyone who disagrees with them is a moron. Gradually\, because of one man’s patience\, they learn to listen to each other\, minds are changed\, and the defendant is acquitted. \n  \nNo one ever seems to “win” an argument. We stop listening to each other. In Nitya’s story above\, he says that he hadn’t really been listening\, he had been waiting for his turn to pontificate. When I was a teenager\, I noticed that my dad didn’t listen to what I said. In the first sentence I spoke to him\, he would pick out a word that suggested to him a kind of pre-recorded speech. He didn’t hear the rest of what I said. He made no reference to it. When I finished talking\, he would give his pre-recorded speech\, based on a word or phrase that I had said early on. I had heard his speech many times before. \n  \nAt present\, it seems that our society has broken down into warring factions—each convinced of the rightness of their side and the wrongness of the other side. One books that illuminates the current situation is HATE\, INC  by Matt Taibbi. There’s an election tomorrow (11/3/20)\, and both sides seem to think that if the other side wins it will be the End of the World. \n  \nBut maybe the world will continue to go round. Outside my window\, squirrels are scurrying up and down the old maple tree in quest of seeds. The sky is bluer than blue. I’m happy to be alive on this beautiful green planet. \n* \n  \nMohandas Gandhi (1869-1948) was mostly known by the honorific title “Mahatma\,” which means “great soul.” He is best known for leading a nonviolent campaign for India’s independence from England. \n  \nHe was born in India\, studied Law in London\, and became an attorney at the age of 22. He lived and practiced Law in South Africa from 1893 to 1914\, where he led a nonviolent campaign for human rights and against racial discrimination. \n  \nThe East India Company invaded India in the 18th Century and ruled India from 1757 to 1858\, when rule of India was turned over to the British Crown and India became a “colony” of Great Britain. When Gandhi returned to India in 1915\, he became one of the leaders of the movement for Indian Independence\, based in part on his experience with civil rights reform in South Africa. \n  \nIn the 1920’s and 30’s and up until he was assassinated in 1948\, he was the most influential and charismatic of the movement’s many leaders. His ideas about civil disobedience were inspired by Henry David Thoreau and his nonviolence was inspired by traditional Hindu beliefs and by Leo Tolstoy. His successful campaigns of nonviolent resistance in turn inspired Dr. Martin Luther King\, Jr. Nelson Mandela\, too\, was inspired by Gandhi’s nonviolent civil rights struggle in South Africa\, but\, unlike Gandhi and King\, he said that violence and nonviolence were not mutually exclusive strategies for change. \n* \n  \nHere are some quotes from Mahatma Gandhi: \n  \nIf we could change ourselves\, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature\, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. We need not wait to see what others do. \n  \nA man is but a product of his thoughts. What he thinks he becomes. \n  \nHappiness is when what you think\, what you say\, and what you do are in harmony. \n  \nA coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave. \n  \nLive as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever. \n  \nFreedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes. \n  \nService which is rendered without joy helps neither the servant nor the served. \n  \nIf we are to teach real peace in this world\, and if we are to carry on a real war against war\, we shall have to begin with the children. \n  \nThe best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others. \n  \nIn a gentle way\, you can shake the world. \n  \nIf I have the belief that I can do it\, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning. \n  \nHate the sin\, not the sinner. \n  \nGlory lies in the attempt to reach one’s goal\, not in reaching it. \n  \nWhenever you are confronted with an opponent\, conquer him with love. \n  \nPermanent good can never be the outcome of untruth and violence. \n  \nThe future depends on what you do today. \n  \nTo give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand heads bowing in prayer. \n  \nEarth provides enough to satisfy every man’s needs\, but not every man’s greed. \n  \nI object to violence because when it appears to do good\, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent. \n  \nYou must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is like an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty\, the ocean does not become dirty. \n  \nIt’s the action\, not the fruit of the action\, that’s important. You have to do the right thing. It may not be in your power\, may not be in your time\, that there’ll be any fruit. But that doesn’t mean you stop doing the right thing. You may never know what results come from your action. But if you do nothing\, there will be no result. \n* \n  \n  \npeace & love \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-11-5-20/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201029
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201105
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201029T165308Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T121241Z
UID:1406-1603929600-1604534399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  10/29/20
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nOctober 29\, 2020 \n  \nLast week I was thinking about loving the Earth. (Why is Earth Day just one day out of the year? Shouldn’t every day be Earth Day?) Kim sent a poem\, but it arrived a little too late to be included in last week’s issue. Here it is: \n  \nRevising Genesis  \n  \nAnd God said\, Rest here in the garden  \nwhere you belong\, where now you know  \nthe good from evil\, and so the good may be  \nyour calling. Be home here in beauty and bounty\,  \nand by salt sweat of your close devotion\, make Earth  \nyour wise guide\, each creature teaching miracles of being  \nin wing and song\, in blurred heart of hummingbird \nand deep thump of whale\, counting nights  \nin peace and days in blessing\, as you \nraise your arms in praise.  \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nAnd he recommended this poem by Gary Snyder: \n  \nFor All \n  \nAh to be alive \n       on a mid-September morn \n       fording a stream \n       barefoot\, pants rolled up\, \n       holding boots\, pack on\, \n       sunshine\, ice in the shallows\, \n        northern rockies.  \n  \nRustle and shimmer of icy creek waters \nstones turn underfoot\, small and hard as toes \n       cold nose dripping \n       singing inside \n       creek music\, heart music\, \n       smell of sun on gravel.  \n       \n        I pledge allegiance  \n  \nI pledge allegiance to the soil \n       of Turtle Island\, \n       and to the beings who thereon dwell \n       one ecosystem \n       in diversity \n       under the sun \nWith joyful interpenetration for all. \n  \n—Gary Snyder \n* \n  \nKatie sent this poem of Deborah’s: \n  \nThe Color of Eyes  \n  \nThe glacier weeps \nicicles\, weeps shades \nof sky and azure sea. \n  \nBlue\, blue of the waves\, \nrippling along sand\,  \ncoral\, and melting ice. \n  \nCornflowers in summer\, \nblue among the fields \nof green and gold. \n  \nFlashing blue eyes \nbeckoning with silence. \n  \nColor of a morning\,  \ncolor of time\, \nof mourning. \n  \nBlue the song of sadness\,  \nsmoky grey in the early hours \nblue the color of words. \n  \nOh\, blue dripping \nover ears\, into eyes\,  \nwater molecules separating\, \n  \nthen vanishing\, atoms alone.  \n  \n—Deborah Buchanan \n* \n  \nRobin Schauffler wrote: \n  \nHey Johnny\, \n  \nThank you for the ongoing peace-love-and-happiness! We’re all depressed and hysterical\, if one can be both at once\, but we have to\, have to keep remembering what’s good.  \n  \nAnd here’s another poem you might want to share: \n  \nThe poet\, Derek Mahon\, had just died (October 1)\, and this poem of his was read by another Irish poet on NPR. He wrote it in 2012\, but it feels like today. As soon as I heard it I decided to commit it to memory\, and I’m working on that. It helps me go to sleep at night. Everything is thoroughly fucked up\, but still\, on some most basic level\, we will manage. \n  \nLove\, \nRobin \n  \nEverything is Going to be All Right \n  \nHow should I not be glad to contemplate \nthe clouds clearing beyond the dormer window \nand a high tide reflected on the ceiling? \nThere will be dying\, there will be dying\, \nbut there is no need to go into that. \nThe poems flow from the hand unbidden \nand the hidden source is the watchful heart. \nThe sun rises in spite of everything \nand the far cities are beautiful and bright. \nI lie here in a riot of sunlight \nwatching the day break and the clouds flying. \nEverything is going to be all right. \n  \n—Derek Mahon\, from Selected Poems \n* \n  \nI was listening to an audio book by David Whyte called What to Remember When Waking. He read this poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins\, which fits our Earth-loving theme. As always\, with his poems\, be sure to read it aloud: \n  \nInversnaid \n  \nThis darksome burn\, horseback brown\, \nHis rollrock highroad roaring down\, \nIn coop and in comb the fleece of his foam \nFlutes and low to the lake falls home. \n  \nA windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth \nTurns and twindles over the broth \nOf a pool so pitchblack\, féll-frówning\, \nIt rounds and rounds Despair to drowning. \n  \nDegged with dew\, dappled with dew \nAre the groins of the braes that the brook treads through\, \nWiry heathpacks\, flitches of fern\, \nAnd the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn. \n  \nWhat would the world be\, once bereft \nOf wet and of wildness? Let them be left\, \nO let them be left\, wildness and wet; \nLong live the weeds and the wilderness yet. \n  \n—Gerard Manley Hopkins \n  \n[Word notes. Inversnaid is a little village on the shores of Loch Lomond\, in Scotland. A burn is a mountain stream. Coop and comb are the high and low parts of the water. Flutes are grooves. He made up the word twindle. Fells are hills. Degged means sprinkled. A brae is a hillside.] \n  \nThis is a charming excerpt from a brief biography on the Gerard Manley Hopkins official website: \n  \nHe was a man of passion and he was a lover\, this poet Gerard Manley Hopkins. As a boy he loved to climb a tree in his family garden in London and look up at the sky and down at the earth. At Oxford University he loved his studies in Greek and Latin and won a brilliant “First” in his final examination. He loved his family and friends and God\, he loved music and sketching\, he loved hiking and swimming\, and he loved beauty\, nature\, and the environment. As a priest he loved his fellow Jesuits\, his students\, and his parishioners\, and as a poet he loved his creativity and the words and images and rhythms and sounds of his poems. \n* \n  \nKim has revised the Gettysburg Address as well as Genesis: \n  \nAbe & I \n  \nFour score and seven years from now our descendants will inherit on this continent an older earth conceived in diversity and dedicated to the recognition that all creatures live as one. Now we are engaged in a great struggle\, testing whether this creation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. We are met in a great community for that struggle. We have come to dedicate a portion of our grief as a final resting-place for those creatures who gave their lives departing from this creation. It is fitting and proper that we should do this. In a larger sense\, we cannot dedicate\, we cannot consecrate\, we cannot hallow this creation. The desperate creatures\, neglected children\, vibrant cultures and local ways of being\, living and dead\, who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The whole earth will little note nor long remember what we say here\, but it can never forget what we now choose to do. It is for us the living rather to be dedicated to the unfinished work which they who struggled and lost here have thus far so painfully clarified. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these tattered beauties we take increased devotion to that cause for which they lost their last full measure of living witness and of song—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not be joined by an endless parade of others long in splendor\, suddenly gone\, that this whole earth shall have a new birth in welcome to its own\, and that reconciliation of all creatures\, by all creatures\, for all creatures shall not perish from the earth. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nSomebody else who wrote their own version of the Gettysburg Address was the astonishing beatnik-poet-philosopher-saint-comedian Lord Buckley. He said\, “I’m a people worshipper. I think people should worship people.” Just for fun\, here’s his version: \n  \nThe Gettysburg Address \n  \nMilords and Miladies of the world of people  \nmost restfully and most humbly  \nand with the deepest reverence  \nfor the great and precious American Saint Abraham Lincoln. \nI shall translate in the modern semantic of the hip\,  \nthis new zig-zag semantic\,  \nhis beloved Gettysburg Address…. \n  \nWhen dey called old Lanky Linc up to de podium  \nand he dug all dem cats and kiddies swingin’ on the green sward\,  \ngreat love look come on his Saint face\,  \nand he put dis issue down to ’em\, he say: \n  \nFour big hits and seven licks ago\,  \nour before-daddies swung forth upon this sweet groovey land  \na jumpin’\, wailin’\, stompin’\, swingin’ new nation\,  \nhip to the cool sweet groove of liberty  \nand solid sent upon the Ace lick dat all cats and kiddies\,  \nred\, white\, or blue\, is created level in front. \nWe are now hung with a king size main-day Civil Drag\,  \nsoundin’ whether this nation or any up there nation\,  \nso hip and so solid sent can stay with it all the way. \nWe have stomped out here to the hassle site  \nof some of the worst jazz blown in the entire issue. \nGettys-mother-burg. \nWe are here to turn on a small soil stash  \nof the before-mentioned hassle site  \nas a final sweet sod pad for those  \nwho laid it down and left it there  \nso that this jumpin’ happy beat might blow forever-more. \nAnd we all dig that this is the straightest lick. \nBut diggin’ it harder from afar we cannot mellow\,  \nwe cannot put down the stamp of the lord on this sweet sod  \nbecause the strong non-stop studs\,  \nboth diggin’ it and dug under it\, who hassled here  \nhave mellowed it with such a wild mad beat  \nthat we can hear it\, but we can’t touch it. \nNow the world cats will short dig nor long stash in their wigs  \nwhat we are beatin’ our chops around here\,  \nbut it never can successively shade what they vanced here. \nIt is for us the swingin’ to pick up the dues  \nof these fine studs who cut out from here  \nand fly it through to Endsville.  \nIt is hipper for us to be signifyin’ to the glorious gig  \nthat we can’t miss with all these bulgin’ eyes\,  \nthat from all these A-stamp studs we double our love kick\, too\,  \nthat righteous line for which these hard cats sounded  \nthe last nth bone of the beat of the bell. \nThat we here want it stuck up straight for all to dig  \nthat these departed studs shall not have split in vain\,  \nand that this nation under the great swingin’ Lord  \nshall swing up a whopper of endless Mardi Gras\,  \nand that the big law by you straights\,  \nfrom you cats\,  \nand for you kiddies\,  \nshall not be scratched from the big race. \n  \n—Richard “Lord” Buckley  (1906-1960) \n* \n  \nHere’s a link to a performance by Lord Buckley: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VuQ-Xt-pDbk \n* \n  \nI guess while we’re at it\, we should include the original: \n  \nFour score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent\, a new nation\, conceived in Liberty\, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. \n  \nNow we are engaged in a great civil war\, testing whether that nation\, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated\, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field\, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. \n  \nBut\, in a larger sense\, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men\, living and dead\, who struggled here\, have consecrated it\, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note\, nor long remember what we say here\, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living\, rather\, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation\, under God\, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people\, by the people\, for the people\, shall not perish from the earth. \n  \n—Abraham Lincoln\nNovember 19\, 1863 \n  \npeace & love\, y’all \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-10-29-20/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201022
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201029
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201022T164135Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201022T164344Z
UID:1390-1603324800-1603929599@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  10/22/20
DESCRIPTION:Photo of sunrise by Abe Green. Abe likes to ski. He took this picture from the top of Big Mountain\, which is right next to the town of Whitefish\, Montana\, where I was born. (JS) \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nOctober 22\, 2020 \n  \nMy friend Mark Alter sent me this poem by Nadine Anne Hura. It got a lot of attention\, because it was shared by Jacinda Ardern\, the Prime Minister of New Zealand: \n  \nFor Papatūānuku – Mother Earth \n  \nRest now\, e Papatūānuku \nBreathe easy and settle \nRight here where you are \nWe’ll not move upon you \nFor awhile \n  \nWe’ll stop\, we’ll cease \nWe’ll slow down and stay home \n  \nDraw each other close and be kind \nKinder than we’ve ever been. \nI wish we could say we were doing it for you \nas much as ourselves \n  \nBut hei aha \n  \nWe’re doing it anyway \n  \nIt’s right. It’s time. \nTime to return \nTime to remember \nTime to listen and forgive \nTime to withhold judgment \nTime to cry \nTime to think \n  \nAbout others \n  \nRemove our shoes \nPress hands to soil \nSift grains between fingers  \n  \nGentle palms \n  \nTime to plant \nTime to wait \nTime to notice \nTo whom we belong \n  \nFor now it’s just you \nAnd the wind \nAnd the forests and the oceans and the sky full of rain \n  \nFinally\, it’s raining! \n  \nKa turuturu te wai kamo o Rangi ki runga i a koe \n  \nEmbrace it \n  \nThis sacrifice of solitude we have carved out for you \n  \nHe iti noaiho – a small offering \nPeople always said it wasn’t possible \nTo ground flights and stay home and stop our habits of consumption \n  \nBut it was \nIt always was. \n  \nWe were just afraid of how much it was going to hurt \n—and it IS hurting and it will hurt and continue to hurt— \nBut not as much as you have been hurt. \n  \nSo be still now \n  \nWrap your hills around our absence \nLoosen the concrete belt cinched tight at your waist \n  \nRest. \nBreathe. \nRecover. \nHeal— \n  \nAnd we will do the same. \n  \n—Nadine Anne Hura\, 23 March 2020 \n  \nA note of gratitude from Nadine:  \n  \nThank you for the amazing response to this poem! I never expected it to travel so far and wide. Many people have asked who the author is so I wanted to clarify that I wrote this poem on the train home after the announcement of total lockdown was made here in Aotearoa\, New Zealand. I felt like I could hear Papatūānuku exhaling in relief as we all began our journeys home. In truth\, one month of lockdown is not enough. Even six months would not be enough! We need a total and sustained change of habit\, globally and within our own communities. I hope so much we take our time to reflect on the fact that if we can do it to save ourselves for a month\, we ought to be able to make similar habit changes for Mother Earth for the long term. The most telling thing for me was how empty our veggie plant aisles were after lockdown was announced – in a crisis\, we will turn back to our mother to provide (and of course she will!).Lots of people have asked for translations… \n  \nPapatūānuku – Mother Earth (the addition of the “e” in front signals the words are addressed or spoken directly to her.) \n  \nKa turuturu te wai kamo o Rangi ki runga i a koe – means something like\, “tears from the eyes of Ranginui drip down on you” (Ranginui is our sky father\, it is common to refer to rain as the tears of Rangi for his beloved\, from whom he was separated at the beginning of time in order that there could be light in the world). Not long after the announcement we were moving to level 3\, it poured with rain in Porirua after many months of hot and dry weather. I could feel my garden rejoicing. \n  \nHei aha – This can be translated in many ways\, but I meant it like the English “oh well\, whatever” \n  \nHe iti noaiho – “something small”. Because our sacrifice feels enormous but in reality I think it is not sufficient to truly see Papatūānuku recover. However\, in Māori\, we often talk about the significance of small actions or gestures. We say “ahakoa he iti\, he pounamu.” Although it is small\, it is a treasure. \n  \nThank you so much for the support. \n  \n—Nadine Anne Hura \n* \n  \nHere’s a link\, (also sent by Mark Alter)\, to an essay by Nadine Anne Hura\, “I’m Reclaiming the Name I Lost”: \n  \nhttps://e-tangata.co.nz/reflections/nadine-anne-hura-im-reclaiming-the-name-i-lost/ \n  \n(n.b.: As of today\, (10/22/20)\, the United States has 2\,525 cases of COVID-19 per 100\,000 residents. New Zealand has 39 cases per 100\,000 residents. Jacinda Ardern is smart!) \n  \nI’m wondering about learning how to love the Earth more deeply\, more constantly. I think a good place to look for help with this is from poets. \n* \n  \nI…peruse manifold objects\, no two alike and every one good\, \nThe earth good and the stars good\, and their adjuncts all good. \n  \n—Walt Whitman  (1819-1892)\, from “Song of Myself” \n* \n  \nWild Geese \n  \nYou do not have to be good. \nYou do not have to walk on your knees  \nfor a hundred miles through the desert\, repenting. \nYou only have to let the soft animal of your body \n     love what it loves.                          \nTell me about despair\, yours\, and I will tell you mine. \nMeanwhile the world goes on. \nMeanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain \nare moving across the landscapes\, \nover the prairies and the deep trees\, \nthe mountains and the rivers. \nMeanwhile the wild geese\, high in the clean blue air\, \nare heading home again. \nWhoever you are\, no matter how lonely\, \nthe world offers itself to your imagination\, \ncalls to you like the wild geese\, harsh and exciting— \nover and over announcing your place \nin the family of things. \n  \n—Mary Oliver  (1935-2019) \n* \n  \nEarth Dweller \n  \nIt was all the clods at once become  \nprecious; it was the barn\, and the shed\, \nand the windmill\, my hands\, the crack  \nArlie made in the ax handle: oh\, let me stay \nhere humbly\, forgotten\, to rejoice in it all; \nlet the sun casually rise and set. \nIf I have not found the right place\,  \nteach me; for somewhere inside\, the clods are  \nvaulted mansions\, lines through the barn sing  \nfor the saints forever\, the shed and windmill \nrear so glorious the sun shudders like a gong. \n  \nNow I know why people worship\, carry around  \nmagic emblems\, wake up talking dreams  \nthey teach to their children: the world speaks. \nThe world speaks everything to us. \nIt is our only friend. \n  \n—William Stafford  (1914-1993) \n  \nHere’s a link to an audio recording of William Stafford reading the poem: \n  \nhttps://voetica.com/voetica.php?collection=2&poet=827&poem=7251 \n  \n* \n  \nThis poem must be read aloud: \n  \nPied Beauty \n  \nGlory be to God for dappled things – \n   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; \n      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; \nFresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings; \n   Landscape plotted and pieced – fold\, fallow\, and plough; \n      And áll trádes\, their gear and tackle and trim. \n  \nAll things counter\, original\, spare\, strange; \n   Whatever is fickle\, freckled (who knows how?) \n      With swift\, slow; sweet\, sour; adazzle\, dim; \nHe fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: \n                                Praise him. \n  \n—Gerard Manley Hopkins  (1844-1889) \n* \n  \nBill Faricy sent this poem: \n  \nWeary of those who come with words\, words but no language \nI make my way to the snow-covered island. \nThe untamed has no words. \nThe unwritten pages spread out on every side! \nI come upon the tracks of deer in the snow. \nLanguage but no words. \n  \n—Tomas Tranströmer  (1931-2015) \n* \n  \nKatie Radditz also thought of Mary Oliver: \n  \nMy Work is Loving the World \n  \nMy work is loving the world. \nHere the sunflowers\, there the hummingbird –  \nequal seekers of sweetness. \nHere the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. \nHere the clam deep in the speckled sand. \n  \nAre my boots old? Is my coat torn? \nAm I no longer young and still not half-perfect? Let me \nkeep my mind on what matters\, \nwhich is my work\, \n  \nwhich is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished. \nThe phoebe\, the delphinium. \nThe sheep in the pasture\, and the pasture. \nWhich is mostly rejoicing\, since all ingredients are here\, \n  \nWhich is gratitude\, to be given a mind and a heart \nand these body-clothes\, \na mouth with which to give shouts of joy \nto the moth and the wren\, to the sleepy dug-up clam\, \ntelling them all\, over and over\, how it is \nthat we live forever. \n  \n–Mary Oliver \n  \nAs the bumper sticker with a picture of our planet says: \n  \nLOVE YOUR MOTHER \n  \n–Johnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-10-22-20/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/unnamed-file.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201015
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201115
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
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/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Unknown.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201015
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201022
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201015T165444Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T121138Z
UID:1362-1602720000-1603324799@openroadpdx.com
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/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201008
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201015
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201008T171410Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20220718T192249Z
UID:1331-1602115200-1602719999@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  10/8/20
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nOctober 8\, 2020 \n  \nI like to begin each day in what I call “the Golden World.” One day\, some years ago\, I sat down and tried to describe it. It’s not easy to describe\, since\, like everything else\, it’s indescribable. Here’s what I cam up with (slightly revised): \n  \n  \nTHE GOLDEN WORLD \n  \nwhere is the golden world? \nit’s right here \n  \nwhat is it? \nit’s a place of quiet joy \na place where everything is miraculous \n  \ni know i’m in the golden world \nwhen there is nowhere i would rather be \n  \nthe golden world is paradise \nnot the paradise that existed long ago \n  \nor the paradise that is yet to come \n  \nbut this one \n  \nto get to the golden world \none thing that sometimes helps \nis to slow down \n  \nrushing around \ntrying to get somewhere else \nwe fail to appreciate where we are \n  \nwhen this ordinary world is alive for us \nwith beauty\, with joy\, with love\, with peace \nwe are in the golden world \n  \nthis ordinary world is the golden world \ntransformed by a shift in the way we see it \nor feel it \n  \none of the most astonishing things about us \nis our ability to take things for granted \nwe get used to trees\, to the sky\, to birds \nto each other \nto ourselves \nto life as we live it \n  \nwe are just here a little while \nwe better wake up right now \n  \nwe are always in the golden world \nbut when we imagine it is somewhere else \nwe feel that we are in exile \n  \nhoping we will somehow improve \nwishing things were different \nwe miss the blessings we have \nthe blessings of who we are \n  \na goldfinch doesn’t imagine that it can improve \n  \nthere is suffering within us and around us \nthe remedy for the suffering within us is close at hand \n  \nas for the big world \nit is always simultaneously full of great suffering \nand great beauty \n  \nif we do not live in quiet joy \nin beauty\, in truth \nin freedom\, in love— \nwhat i am calling the golden world— \nwe cannot transform the suffering \n  \nof course\, some suffering is built into the world \nwe are mortal creatures \ndisease and death are inevitable \n  \nbut there is gratuitous suffering \nwe create through our ignorance\, \nour hatred\, our anger\, our fear \n  \nif we imagine we have an enemy \nwe are always at war \n  \nour inner conflict is the source of much outer conflict \nwars begin in the minds of men \n  \nthere is a stillness \nin which there is no conflict \nwe can live there \nor here \nin the golden world \n  \nthe peace which passeth understanding \nis our birthright \nmaybe we forgot \ngot lost \n  \nit’s time to remember \nto come home \nto the golden world \n  \nwe are born into the golden world \nwe learn to understand and to speak a language \nit’s an astonishing thing! \nwe create an identity\, a story about who we are \nwe create a mythos\, a story about the world in which we live \nthese are fantastic achievements! \n  \nbut\, alas!\, these stories become the prisons in which we live \nwe take everything new and turn it into something old \n  \nwe don’t live in the world \nwe live inside our descriptions of the world \n  \nwe are fictional characters \nliving in fictional worlds \n  \nthe golden world is this ordinary world \nnot mediated by thought or language \n  \nwe touch it all the time \nwhenever we take a sip of tea \nand are not doing anything but taking a sip of tea \nwe are in the golden world \n  \na quiet setting makes it easier for us to experience the golden world \nbut when the stillness is strong within us \nthe whole noisy world is golden \n  \nwhen thought and language are our tools \nrather than our masters \nthey are a blessing \nnot a curse \n  \nwhen meditation is not just something we do for half-an-hour in the morning \nwhen we live in meditation \nwe live in the golden world \n  \nwe are always in the golden world \nwhether we know it or not \nthe place we’ve always wanted to get to \nis where we are \n  \nthat which is not born \nand does not die \nis who we are \n  \nin the golden world \nthere is nothing to strive for \n  \nno regret \n  \nall our sins are washed away \n  \nthe golden world is not an imaginary place \nthe world described in the newspaper is an imaginary place \n  \nthe golden world is never somewhere else \nit is always right now where we are \nor not at all \n  \nwhen you are in it \nyou are not \n  \nwhen you can’t see it \nyou are blind \n  \nwhen the poet said \n“each moment and whatever happens thrills me with joy” \nhe was in it \nand when he said \n“Divine am I inside and out\, \nand I make holy whatever I touch \nor am touch’d from” \n  \nwhen another poet felt that he “was blessed \nand could bless” \nhe was in it \n  \nanother poet clarified the matter when she said: \n“The Infinite a sudden Guest \nHas been assumed to be– \nBut how can that stupendous come \nWhich never went away?” \n  \nyou can’t get to the golden world by trying to go there \nwhen you are not trying to go somewhere \nnot trying to do something \nnot trying to be someone \nyou might find that you are in the golden world \n  \nwhen i’m in it\, i think \n“this is my home \ni must never allow myself to lose this \neven for a moment” \n  \nthen\, later\, it’s gone \ndid i leave the golden world? \nor did it leave me? \n  \ni find myself in exile \nand want to return \n  \ni know that that wanting condemns me to exile \nand so i seek to find my way home by a kind of indirection \ninstead of doing something \ni do nothing \n  \nwhen the mind is quiet and alert \nit doesn’t matter whether “i” am in the golden world or not \nthe question doesn’t arise \nor if it does \nit is seen for what it is \n  \nthe squirrel outside\, sitting on a branch \nhas no ideas about a golden world \nand so it lives in the golden world \n  \n“the golden world” is a name i give to something \nthat has no name \n  \nto have an identity is to be in exile \n  \nam i in the golden world? \nor is the golden world in me? \n  \nbehind each person’s mask \nshines a radiant\, glorious\, perfect being \n  \nbeneath who we pretend to be \nis who we are \n  \nat those moments when we see through everyone’s mask \nwe are in the golden world \n  \nwhen we see through someone’s mask \nit is impossible not to love them \n  \nfor this to be paradise \nwe have to love everyone \nwithout love\, it isn’t paradise \n  \nwhen where we are \nand where we want to be \nare the same place \nwe are in the golden world \n  \nthe seer sees the golden world \nthe seeker seeks the golden world \nthe seeker asks: where is it? \nthe seer replies: where isn’t it? \n  \nthis is it \n  \nyou want a miracle? \nthe poet said: \n“a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels” \nif that is so \nwhere can you find something that is not miraculous? \n  \nthere has never been \nis not now \nand will never be \nanything more perfect \nmore beautiful \nmore miraculous \nthan a glass of water \n  \nthere are miracles everywhere you look \nthe eyes with which you see \nare miraculous \nour brains\, nervous systems \nour heart’s pumping blood \nmiracles! \n  \nthat we are alive \nand aware \nin this world of marvels \nis a great blessing \n  \n  \n—Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-10-8-20/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/0-2-3.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201001
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201015
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201202T223748Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20201202T224819Z
UID:1531-1601510400-1602719999@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Beginner's Mind by Shunryū Suzuki
DESCRIPTION:Beginner’s Mind \n  \nPeople say that practicing Zen is difficult\, but there is a misunderstanding as to why. It is not difficult because it is hard to sit in the cross-legged position\, or to attain enlightenment. It is difficult because it is hard to keep our mind pure and our practice pure in its fundamental sense. The Zen school developed in many ways after it was established in China\, but at the same time\, it became more and more impure. But I do not want to talk about Chinese Zen or the history of Zen. I am interested in helping you keep your practice from becoming impure. \n  \nIn Japan we have the phrase shoshin\, which means “beginner’s mind.” The goal of practice is always to keep our beginner’s mind. Suppose you recite the Prajna Parmita Sutra only once. It might be a very good recitation. But what would happen to you if you recited it twice\, three times\, four times\, or more? You might easily lose your original attitude towards it. The same thing will happen in your other Zen practices. For a while you will keep your beginner’s mind\, but if you continue to practice one\, two\, three years or more\, although you may improve some\, you are liable to lose the limitless meaning of original mind. \n  \nFor Zen students the most important thing is not to be dualistic. Our “original mind” includes everything within itself. You should not lose your self-sufficient state of mind. This does not mean a closed mind\, but actually an empty mind and a ready mind. If your mind is empty\, it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s there are few. \n  \nIf you discriminate too much\, you limit yourself. If you are too demanding or too greedy\, your mind is not rich and self-sufficient. If we lose our original self-sufficient mind\, we will lose all precepts. When your mind becomes demanding\, when you long for something\, you will end up violating your own precepts: not to tell lies\, not to steal\, not to kill\, not to be immoral\, and so forth. If you keep your original mind\, the precepts will keep themselves. \n  \nIn the beginner’s mind there is no thought\, “I have attained something.” All self-centered thoughts limit our vast mind. When we have no thought of achievement\, no thought of self\, we are true beginners. Then we can really learn something. The beginner’s mind is the mind of compassion. When our mind is compassionate\, it is boundless. Dogen-zenji\, the founder of our school\, always emphasized how important it is to resume our boundless original mind. Then we are always true to ourselves\, in sympathy with all beings\, and can actually practice. \n  \nSo the most difficult thing is always to keep your beginner’s mind. There is no need to have a deep understanding of Zen. Even though you read much Zen literature\, you must read each sentence with a fresh mind. You should not say\, “I know what Zen is\,” or “I have attained enlightenment.” This is also the real secret of the arts: always be a beginner. Be very careful about this point. If you start to practice zazen\, you will begin to appreciate your beginner’s mind. It is the secret of Zen practice. \n  \n—Shunryū Suzuki\, the Prologue to Zen Mind\, Beginner’s Mind  (1970)
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/beginners-mind-by-shunryu-suzuki/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201001
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201008
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20201001T182041Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T121004Z
UID:1319-1601510400-1602115199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  10/1/20
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nOctober 1\, 2020 \n  \nOn September 27\, at our Bibliophiles Unanimous! Zoom gathering\, we were talking about “Nature\, Ecology and the Environmental Crisis.” Katie Radditz mentioned Gary Snyder’s essay “Fire\, Floods and Following the Dao\,” from his book Back on the Fire\, published in 2007. She mentioned how relevant it is to our current wildfires in Oregon\, California and Washington. That reminded me of Gary Snyder’s great essay from 1969: “Four Changes\,” which came at a time when a lot of people were waking up\, and which helped that to happen. Later\, it was published in his Pulitzer Prize winning book Turtle Island. But before getting to that\, I’d like to start this issue with one of Kim’s recent poems: \n  \nHoly Smokes \n  \nDownwind from where the forest burns \nwe inhale the cindered souls of trees \nthat in a whoosh became particulate \nand rode the wind to enter us. With \nthis breath take in the spirit whisker \nof a mouse\, incinerate wren’s cry \nclenched and tumbled from the sky\, \nmoss that leaped from green to nothing\, \nflailing leaf that in a fiery gasp \nrushed through charcoal into dust \ninside the billow flame that roiled and— \nholy\, holy\, holy became the smoke-smudge \npall that smuggled mountains into us. \n  \nNow freighted for life with dusky mist\, \neven as we help sustain our neighbors \nwho lost everything but life\, we survivors \nare the walking shrine of little lives. We are them\, \nare earth mind suddenly\, to weigh by human choice \nwhat’s best for upward yearning seed of cedar\, \nfootfall of mouse\, wingbeat of wren. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nAnd now… \n  \n  \nFOUR CHANGES \n  \nI. POPULATION \n  \nThe Condition \n  \nPosition:  Human beings are but a part of the fabric of life — dependent on the whole fabric for their very existence. As the most highly developed tool-using animal\, we must recognize that the unknown evolutionary destinies of other life forms are to be respected\, and we must act as gentle steward of the Earth’s community of being. \nSituation:  There are now too many human beings\, and the problem is growing rapidly worse. It is potentially disastrous not only for the human race but for most other life forms. \nGoal:  The goal would be half of the present world population\, or less. \n  \nAction \n  \nSocial/Political:  First\, a massive effort to convince the governments and leaders of the world that the problem is severe. And that all talk about raising food-production — well intentioned as it is — simply puts off the only real solution: reduce population. Demand immediate participation by all countries in programs to legalize abortion\, encourage vasectomy\, sterilization (provided by free clinics)\, and try to correct traditional cultural attitudes that tend to force women into childbearing\, remove income tax deductions for more than two children above a specified income level\, and scale it so that lower-income families are forced to be careful too\, or pay families to limit their number; take a vigorous stand against the policy of the right-wing in the Catholic hierarchy and any other institutions that exercise an irresponsible social force in regard to this question; oppose and correct simple-minded boosterism that equates population growth with continuing prosperity; work ceaselessly to have all political questions be seen in the light of this prime problem. \nIn many cases the governments are the wrong agents to address. Their most likely use of a problem or crisis is another excuse for extending their own powers. Abortion should be legal and voluntary. Great care should be taken that no one is ever tricked or forced into sterilizations. The whole population issue is fraught with contradictions\, but the fact stands that by standards of planetary biological welfare\, there are already too many human beings. The long-range answer is a steady\, lower birthrate\, area by area of the globe. The measure of optimum population should be based on what is best for the total ecological health of the region\, including its wildlife population. \nThe Community:  Explore other social structures and marriage forms\, such as group marriage and polyandrous marriage\, which provide family life but many less children. Share the pleasure of raising children widely\, so that all need not directly reproduce in order to enter into this basic human experience. We must hope that no one woman would give birth to more than one child or two children\, during this period of crisis. Adopt children. Let reverence for life and reverence for the feminine mean also a reverence for other species\, and for future human lives\, most of which are threatened. \nOur Own Heads:  “I am a child of all life\, and all living beings are my brothers and sisters\, my children and grandchildren. And there is a child within me waiting to be born\, the baby of a new and wiser self.” Love\, lovemaking\, seen as the vehicle of mutual realization for a couple\, where the creation of new selves and a new world of being is as important as reproducing our kind. \n  \nII. POLLUTION \n  \nThe Condition \n  \nPosition:  Pollution is of two types. One sort results from an excess of some fairly ordinary substance—smoke\, or solid waste—that cannot be absorbed or transmuted rapidly enough to offset its introduction into the environment\, thus causing changes the great cycle is not prepared for. (All organisms have wastes and by-products\, and these are indeed part of the total biosphere: energy is passed along the line\, refracted in various ways. This is cycling\, not pollution.) The other sort is powerful modern chemicals and poisons\, products of recent technology that the biosphere is totally unprepared for. Such are DDT and similar chlorinated hydrocarbons—nuclear testing fallout and nuclear waste—poison gas\, germ and virus storage and leakage by the military; and chemicals that are put into food\, whose long-range effects on human begins have not been properly tested. \nSituation:  The human race in the last century has allowed its production and scattering of wastes\, by-products\, and various chemicals to become excessive. Pollution is directly harming life on the planet: which is to say\, ruining the environment for humanity itself. We are fouling our air and water\, and living in noise and filth that no “animal” would tolerate\, while advertising and politicians try to tell us “we’ve never had it so good.” The dependence of modern governments on this kind of untruth leads to shameful mind-pollution through the mass media and much school education. \nGoal:  Clean air\, clean clear-running rivers\, the presence of Pelican and Osprey and Gray Whale in our lives; salmon and trout in our streams; unmuddied language and good dreams. \n  \nAction \n  \nSocial/Political:  Effective international legislation banning DDT and other poisons — with no fooling around. The collusion of certain scientists with the pesticide industry and agri-business that is trying to block this legislation must be brought out in the open. Strong penalties for water and air pollution by industries — “Pollution is somebody’s profit.” Phase out the internal combustion engine and fossil fuel use in general\, do more research into non-polluting energy sources such as solar energy and the tides. No more kidding the public about nuclear waste disposal: it’s impossible to do it safely. So nuclear-power generated electricity cannot be seriously planned for as it stands now. \nStop all germ and chemical warfare research and experimentation; work toward a safe disposal of the present staggering and stupid stockpiles of H-Bombs\, cobalt gunk\, germ and poison tanks and cans. Provide incentives against the wasteful use of paper\, and so on\, which adds to the solid waste of cities\, develop methods of re-cycling solid urban waste. Recycling should be the basic principle behind all waste-disposal thinking. Thus\, all bottles should be re-usable; old cans should make more cans; old newspapers should go back into newsprint again. Establish stronger controls and conduct more research on chemicals in foods. A shift toward a more varied and sensitive type of agriculture (more small scale and subsistence farming) would eliminate much of the call for blanket use of pesticides. \nThe Community:  DDT and such – don’t use them. Air pollution: use fewer cars. Cars pollute the air\, and one or two people riding lonely in a huge car is an insult to intelligence and to the Earth. Share rides\, legalize hitchhiking\, have hitchhiker waiting stations along the highways. Also — a step toward the new world – walk more; look for the best routes through beautiful countryside for long-distance walking trips: San Francisco to Los Angeles down the Coast Range\, for example. Learn how to use your own manure as fertilizer if you’re in the country\, as the far East has done for centuries. There is a way\, and it’s safe. Solid waste: boycott bulky wasteful Sunday papers which use up trees. It’s all just advertising anyway\, which is artificially inducing more energy consumption. Refuse bags at the store and bring your own. Organize park and street clean-up festivals. Don’t work in any way for or with an industry that pollutes. Don’t be drafted into the military. Don’t waste. (A monk and an old master were once walking in the mountains. They noticed a little hut upstream. The monk said\, “A wise hermit must live there” — the master said\, “That’s no wise hermit\, you see that lettuce leaf floating down the stream\, he’s a Waster.” Just then an old man came running down the hill with his beard flying and caught the floating lettuce leaf.) Carry your own jug to the winery and have it filled from the barrel. \nOur Own Heads:  Part of the trouble with talking about DDT is that the use of it is not just a practical device\, it’s almost an establishment religion. There is something in Western culture that wants to totally wipe out creepy-crawlies\, totally\, and feels repugnance for toadstools and snakes. This is fear of one’s own deepest inner-self wilderness areas\, and the answer is\, relax. Relax around bugs\, snakes\, and your own hairy dreams. Again\, we all should share our crops with a certain percentage of bug life as “paying our dues.” Thoreau says\, “How then can the harvest fail? Shall I not rejoice also at the abundance of the weeds whose seeds are the granary of the birds? It matters little comparatively whether the fields fill the farmer’s barns. The true husbandman will cease from anxiety\, as the squirrels manifest no concern whether the woods will bear chestnuts this year or not\, and finish his labor with every day\, relinquishing all claim to the produce of his fields\, and sacrificing in his mind not only his first fruits but his last fruits also.” In the realm of thought\, inner experience\, consciousness\, as in the outward realm of interconnection\, there is a difference between balanced cycle\, and the excess that cannot be handled. When the balance is right\, the mind recycles from highest illuminations to the muddied blinding anger or grabiness that sometimes seizes us all. That is the alchemical “transmutation.” \n  \nIII. CONSUMPTION \n  \nThe Condition \n  \nPosition:  Everybody that lives eats food and is food in turn. This complicated animal\, the human being\, rests on a vast and delicate pyramid of energy transformation. To grossly use more than you need to destroy is biologically unsound. Much of the production and consumption of modern society is not necessary or conducive to spiritual and cultural growth\, let alone survival; and is behind much greed and envy\, age-old causes of social and international discord. \nSituation:  Humanity’s careless use of “resources” and its total dependence on certain substances such as fossil fuels (which are being exhausted\, slowly but certainly) are having harmful effects on all the other members of the life-network. The complexity of modern technology renders whole populations vulnerable to the deadly consequences of the loss of any one key resource. Instead of independence we have over-dependence on life- giving substances such as water\, which we squander. Many species of animals and birds have become extinct in the service of fashion fads — or fertilizer — or industrial oil. The soil is being used up; in fact\, mankind has become a locust-like blight on the planet that will leave a bare cupboard for its own children — all the while in a kind of Addict’s Dream of affluence\, comfort\, eternal progress — using the great achievements of science to produce software and swill. \nGoal:  Balance\, harmony\, humility\, growth that is a mutual growth with Redwood and Quail — to be a good member of the great community of living creatures. True affluence is not needing anything. \n  \nAction \n  \nSocial/Political:  It must be demonstrated ceaselessly that a continually “growing economy” is no longer healthy\, but a cancer. And that the criminal waste which is allowed in the name of competition — especially that ultimate in wasteful needless competition\, hot wars and cold wars with “communism” (or “capitalism”) — must be halted totally with ferocious energy and decision. Economics must be seen as a small sub-branch of Ecology\, and production/distribution/consumption handled by companies or unions or cooperatives with the same elegance and spareness one sees in nature. Soil banks; open space; logging to be truly based on sustained yield (the US Forest Service is sadly now the lackey of business). Protection for all predators and varmints. “Support your right to arm bears.” Damn the International Whaling Commission which is selling out the last of our precious\, wise whales! Ban absolutely all further development of roads and concessions in National Parks and Wilderness Areas; build auto campgrounds in the least desirable areas. Initiate consumer boycotts of dishonest and unnecessary products. Establish Co-ops. Politically\, blast both “Communist” and “Capitalist” myths of progress\, and all crude notions of conquering or controlling nature. \nThe Community:  Sharing and creating. The inherent aptness of communal life — where large tools are owned jointly and used efficiently. The power of renunciation: If enough Americans refused to buy a new car for one given year it would permanently alter the American economy. Recycling clothes and equipment. Support handicrafts — gardening\, home skills\, midwifery\, herbs — all the things that can make us independent\, beautiful and whole. Learn to break the habit of acquiring unnecessary possessions\, a monkey on everybody’s back — but avoid a self-abnegating anti-joyous self-righteousness. Simplicity is light\, carefree\, neat\, and loving — not a self-punishing ascetic trip. \n(The great Chinese poet Tu Fu said\, “The ideas of a poet should be noble and simple.”) Don’t shoot a deer if you don’t know how to use all the meat and preserve that which you can’t eat\, to tan the hide and use the leather — to use it all\, with gratitude\, right down to the sinew and hooves. Simplicity and mindfulness in diet are the starting point for many people. \nOur Own Heads:  It is hard to even begin to gauge how such a complication of possessions\, the notions of “my and mine\,” stand between us and a true\, clear\, liberated way of seeing the world. To live lightly on the Earth\, to be aware and alive\, to be free of egotism\, to be in contact with plants and animals\, starts with simple\, concrete acts. The inner principle is the insight that we are interdependent energy-fields of great potential wisdom and compassion expressed in each person as a superb mind\, a handsome and complex body\, and the almost magical capacity of language. To these potentials and capacities\, “owning things” can add nothing of authenticity. “Clad in the sky\, with the Earth for a pillow.” \n  \nIV. TRANSFORMATION \n  \nThe Condition \n  \nPosition:  Everyone is the result of four forces — the conditions of this known-universe (matter/energy forms\, and ceaseless change); the biology of his or her species; individual genetic heritage; and the culture one is born into. Within this web of forces there are certain spaces and loops that allow to some persons the experience of inner freedom and illumination. The gradual exploration of some of these spaces constitutes “evolution” and\, for human cultures\, what “history” could increasingly be. We have it within our deepest powers not only to change our “selves” but to change our culture. If humans are to remain on Earth they must transform the five-millennia-long urbanizing civilization tradition into a new ecologically-sensitive\, harmony-oriented\, wild-minded scientific/spiritual culture. “Wildness is the state of complete awareness. That’s why we need it.” \nSituation:  Civilization\, which has made us so successful a species\, has overshot itself and now threatens us with its inertia. There is also some evidence that civilized life isn’t good for the human gene pool. To achieve the changes\, we must change the very foundations of our society and our minds. \nGoal:  Nothing short of total transformation will do much good. What we envision is a planet on which the human population lives harmoniously and dynamically by employing various sophisticated and unobtrusive technologies in a world environment that is ‘”left natural.” Specific points in this vision: \n  \n\nA healthy and spare population of all races\, much less in number than today.\nCultural and individual pluralism\, unified by a type of world tribal council. Division by natural and cultural boundaries rather than arbitrary political boundaries.\nA technology of communication\, education\, and quiet transportation\, land-use being sensitive to the properties of each region. Allowing\, thus\, the Bison to return to much of the high plains. Careful but intensive agriculture in the great alluvial valleys; deserts left wild for those who would live there by skill. Computer technicians who run the plant part of the year and walk along with the Elk in their migrations during the rest.\nA basic cultural outlook and social organization that inhibits power and property-seeking while encouraging exploration and challenge in things like music\, meditation\, mathematics\, mountaineering\, magic\, and all other ways of authentic being-in-the-world.\nWomen totally free and equal. A new kind of family — responsible\, but more festive and relaxed is implicit.\n\n  \nAction \n  \nSocial/Political:  It seems evident that there are throughout the world certain social and religious forces that have worked through history toward an ecologically and culturally enlightened state of affairs. Let these be encouraged: Gnostics\, hip Marxists\, Teilhard de Chardin Catholics\, Druids\, Taoists\, Biologists\, Witches\, Yogins\, Bhikkus\, Quakers\, Sufis\, Tibetans\, Zens\, Shaman\, Bushmen\, American Indians\, Polynesians\, Anarchists\, Alchemists . . . the list is long. Primitive cultures\, communal and ashram movements\, cooperative ventures. Since it doesn’t seem practical or even desirable to think that direct bloody force will achieve much\, it would be best to consider this change a continuing “revolution of consciousness” which will be won not by guns but by seizing the key images\, myths\, archetypes\, eschatologies\, and ecstasies so that life won’t seem worth living unless one’s on the side of the transforming energy. We must take over “science and technology” and release its real possibilities and powers in the service of this planet — which\, after all\, produced us and it. More concretely\, no transformation without our feet on the ground. Stewardship means\, for most of us\, find your place on the planet\, dig in\, and take responsibility from there. The tiresome but tangible work of school boards\, county supervisors\, local foresters\, local politics\, even while holding in mind the largest scale of potential change. Get a sense of workable territory. Learn about it and start acting point by point. On all levels\, from national to local\, the need to move toward steady state economy\, equilibrium\, dynamic balance\, inner growth stressed must be taught – maturity\, diversity\, climax\, creativity. \nThe Community:  New schools\, new classes\, walking in the woods and cleaning up the streets. Find psychological techniques for creating an awareness of “self” that includes the social and natural environment. “Consideration of what specific language forms — symbolic systems — and social institutions constitute obstacles to ecological awareness.” Without falling into facile interpretations of McLuhan\, we can hope to use the media. Let no one be ignorant of the facts of biology and related disciplines; bring up our children as part of the wildlife. Some communities can establish themselves in backwater rural areas and flourish — others maintain themselves in urban centers\, and the two types work together — a two-way flow of experience\, people\, money\, and home-grown vegetables. Ultimately cities may exist only as joyous tribal gatherings and fairs\, to dissolve after a few weeks. Investigating new lifestyles is our work\, as is the exploration of ways to explore our inner realms — with the known dangers of crashing that go with such. Master the archaic and the primitive as models of basic nature-related cultures — as well as the most imaginative extensions of science — and build a community where these two vectors cross. \nOur Own Heads:  Are where it starts. Knowing that we are the first human beings in history to have so much of our past cultures and previous experiences available to our study\, and being free enough of the weight of traditional cultures to seek out a larger identity – the first members of a civilized society since the early Neolithic to wish to look clearly into the eyes of the wild and see our selfhood there\, our family there. We have these advantages to set off the obvious disadvantages of being as screwed up as we are — which gives us a fair chance to penetrate some of the riddles of ourselves and the universe\, and to go beyond the idea of “human survival” or “survival of the biosphere” and to draw our strength from the realization that at the heart of things is some kind of serene and ecstatic process that is beyond qualities and beyond birth and death. “No need to survive! In the fires that destroy the universe at the end of the kalpa\, what survives?” — “The iron tree blooms in the void.”  \nKnowing that nothing need be done is the place from which we begin to move. \n  \n—Gary Snyder (Summer of 1969) \n* \n  \nHere’s a link to an audio recording of Gary Snyder reading “Four Changes”: \n  \nhttps://www.garynabhan.com/news/2020/04/four-changes-by-gary-snyder/ \n  \npeace\, love & ecology \n  \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-10-1-20/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200924
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201001
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20200924T173440Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T120856Z
UID:1300-1600905600-1601510399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  9/24/20
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nSeptember 24\, 2020 \n  \n  \nHOW HIPPIES MAY STILL SAVE THE WORLD \n  \nShortly before the Era of Social Distancing began\, my friend Bill Faricy and I were eating granola for breakfast and we got to thinking about hippies and what we have given to the world. Granola\, for one. And whole wheat bread. Brown rice. Organic food. Recycling. Yoga. Vegetarianism. Holistic medicine. Natural childbirth and breastfeeding. Nonviolence. Massage. Bright colors! Free love. Good vibes. The list got longer and longer. \n  \nThe most challenging problem that we humans face is that the way we are living is destroying the ecological health of our planet. Hippies intuited this\, and began trying to live in harmony with Mother Earth. The changes were not just on the outside\, with long hair and geodesic domes. There were deeper changes in thinking\, feeling and imagining. \n  \nIt was obvious that hippies were not going along with the status quo. The status quo is by its nature static\, and resistant to change. The hippies clothing styles were mocked\, but the peace symbol and the peace hand gesture—which are now emojis—represented something which threatened the foundation of an economy built on militarism and endless war. \n  \nThe hippies laid-back attitudes were inimical to the Protestant ethic of Hard Work\, and to the Spirit of Capitalism. Great efforts had been made and billions of dollars spent to turn citizens into Consumers and the hippies were opting out!—making their own sandals and growing their own food. At every turn the hippies weren’t going along with The Program\, and The Program was designed to create Endless Progress and Prosperity. What was wrong with them? \n  \nIt turned out that there was something wrong with the global project of turning the planet into a Theme Park for Humans. The War On Nature is one we don’t want to “win.” The hippie chanteuse sang: “They paved Paradise and put up a parking lot.” \n  \nI was born in 1951\, and I didn’t hear the word “ecology” before 1968 or ’69. Around 1970\, the year of the first Earth Day\, it became evident to anyone who was curious and who read books that there were too many people on the planet for its “carrying capacity\,” and that we were not only cutting down all the trees and catching all the fish\, but we were poisoning the world with our toxic chemicals and nuclear waste. \n  \nHippies may have invented granola\, and coined the expression “Have a nice day!\,” but most of the things on my list of contributions made by the hippies are older things that hippies revived and gave momentum to\, like yoga\, massage and good vibes. Hippies weren’t the first vegetarians. Credit Buddha and Mahavira for that\, about 500 BC\, with their doctrines of nonviolence (ahimsa). Hippies didn’t discover organic food. Before pesticides were invented\, no one ate food with poison on it. And the alarm was sounded not by hippies\, but by Rachel Carson—definitely a non-hippie scientist. But the hippies read her book Silent Spring\, which was published in 1965\, and started organizations like the Northwest Center for Alternatives to Pesticides (www.pesticide.org). \n  \nHippies started nonprofit organizations by the tens (or hundreds) of thousands. There are currently 1.5 million nonprofit corporations in the United States. I started two myself. There are an estimated 10 million non-governmental organizations (NGOs) in the world. Hippies didn’t start them all\, but hippies are part of a long tradition of nonviolent revolutionary change from the bottom up. \n  \n“Hippies” is a word like “gypsies” that can refer to all kinds of people\, all over the world. There is a caricatured picture of the long-haired\, barefoot\, stoned hippie that the mainstream media perpetuates. And surely there is a shadow side to hippie culture. I’m just giving one hippie’s perspective on positive contributions that hippies have made\, and how the Hippie Way of understanding and being-in-the-world can help us to make the transition to the Post Fossil Fuel Era as gently and beautifully as possible. \n  \nI don’t want to convert anybody to Hippieism. I became a hippie effortlessly. I looked a certain way\, dressed a certain way\, and thought and acted in certain ways\, and people pointed at me and said: “Look\, Martha\, a hippie!” I wrote an email to a woman in Lebanon in 2012 and signed it: “peace & love\, Johnny.” She knew I was a hippie. \n  \nMy hair isn’t long at present\, and I only occasionally wear a hippie-style shirt from somewhere like Nepal or Africa or Guatemala. But I think like a hippie. I believe in Peace and Love—the core hippie values. I love Mother Earth and everyone who lives here—people\, plants\, animals\, clouds\, rivers\, stones. \n  \nThis subject is too big for this kind of short essay. Here are the most important hippie ideas: \n  \nNature is Sacred \nMoney isn’t Everything; (Money and Wealth are not the same thing) \nLocal Organic Agriculture \nLocal Economics \nCommunity \nPeace & Nonviolence \nChildren raised to be free\, rather than obedient \nMeditation & Mindfulness \nLive the life you love; (Do your own thing) \nLove Everyone! \n  \nI don’t have room to elaborate on all these ideas\, but I’ll say a few more things. We can’t continue to destroy the ecological health of the planet. Short term financial profit is not a good enough reason to do it. It’s suicidal. And omnicidal.  \n  \nOne hundred years from now\, food will be grown closer to where it is eaten. And most things we need will be made locally. The ecological damage inherent in large scale industrial production is unsustainable. The current economic system is unjust and inherently unstable. That which is unsustainable can’t be sustained. \n  \nIf all children were raised in a loving\, nurturing environment\, respected as people\, allowed to realize their full human potential and follow their hearts’ desires\, our world would be transformed utterly. It’s a tall order. To do it\, adults will have to become more loving and kind. At present\, at home and around the world\, physical\, psychological and emotional abuse of children is the norm. (See For Your Own Good: Hidden Cruelty in Childrearing and the Roots of Violence by Alice Miller.) \n  \nMeditation and mindfulness\, which hippies were instrumental in helping to bring from the East to the West\, can help us to co-create a Culture That Nurtures\, a culture of Peace\, Love\, Happiness & Understanding. \n  \nWe need to aspire to love everyone unconditionally. No exceptions. No enemies. No “others.” One Human Family. It’s easy! (Much easier than what we’re doing now.) As Bob Marley sang:  \n  \nOne love! \nOne heart! \n  \nI’ll close this issue of peace\, love\, happiness & understanding with some Good Vibes: \n  \nLove’s In Need Of Love Today \n  \n(Spoken.) “When you say that you kill in the \nName of God or in the name of Allah\, \nYou are truly cursing God\, for that is not of God. \nWhen you say that you hate in the name of God or Allah\, \nYou are lying to God\, for that is not of our Father. \nLet us pray that we see the light.” \n  \nGood morn or evening friends \nHere’s your friendly announcer \nI have serious news to pass on to everybody \nWhat I’m about to say \nCould mean the world’s disaster \nCould change your joy and laughter to tears and pain \n  \nIt’s that \nLove’s in need of love today \nDon’t delay \nSend your’s in right away \nHate’s goin’ round \nBreaking many hearts \nStop it please \nBefore it’s gone too far \n  \n—Stevie Wonder \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=paZEqzrrO-4) \n* \n  \nWhat the World Needs Now \n  \nWhat the world needs now is love\, sweet love \nIt’s the only thing that there’s just too little of \nWhat the world needs now is love\, sweet love \nNo\, not just for some\, but for everyone \n  \n—Burt Bacharach  \n(sung by Dionne Warwick: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfHAs9cdTqg)  \n* \n  \nAll You Need Is Love \n  \nLove\, love\, love \nLove\, love\, love \nLove\, love\, love \n  \nThere’s nothing you can do that can’t be done \nNothing you can sing that can’t be sung \nNothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game \nIt’s easy \n  \nNothing you can make that can’t be made \nNo one you can save that can’t be saved \nNothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time \nIt’s easy \n  \n[chorus]  All you need is love \nAll you need is love \nAll you need is love\, love \nLove is all you need \n  \n[repeat]  Love\, love\, love… \n  \n[chorus] \n  \nNothing you can know that isn’t known \nNothing you can see that isn’t shown \nNowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be \nIt’s easy \n  \nAll you need is love \nAll you need is love \nAll you need is love\, love \nLove is all you need \n  \n—John Lennon \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7xMfIp-irg) \n* \n  \nGet Together \n  \nLove is but a song we sing\nFear’s the way we die\nYou can make the mountains ring\nOr make the angels cry\nThough the bird is on the wing\nAnd you may not know why \n[Chorus]  Come on people now\nSmile on your brother\nEverybody get together\nTry to love one another right now \nSome may come and some may go\nWe will surely pass\nWhen the one that left us here\nReturns for us at last\nWe are but a moment’s sunlight\nFading in the grass \n[Chorus] \n  \nIf you hear the song I sing \nYou will understand (listen!) \nYou hold the key to love and fear \nAll in your trembling hand \nJust one key unlocks them both \nIt’s there at your command \n  \n[Chorus]  Come on people now \nSmile on your brother \nEverybody get together \nTry to love one another right now \n  \n—Chet Powers (recorded by The Kingston Trio and by The Youngbloods) \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deW7_D5qems) \n* \n  \nAnd a hippie classic: \n  \nSan Francisco \n  \nIf you’re going to San Francisco \nBe sure to wear some flowers in your hair \nIf you’re going to San Francisco \nYou’re gonna meet some gentle people there \n  \nFor those who come to San Francisco \nSummertime will be a love-in there \nIn the streets of San Francisco \nGentle people with flowers in their hair \n  \nAll across the nation  \nSuch a strange vibration \nPeople in motion \n  \nThere’s a whole generation  \nWith a new explanation \nPeople in motion \nPeople in motion \n  \nFor those who come to San Francisco \nBe sure to wear some flowers in your hair \nIf you come to San Francisco \nSummertime will be a love-in there \n  \n—written by John Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas (performed Scott McKenzie) \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7I0vkKy504U) \n  \n  \npeace & love \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-9-24-20/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20200920T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20200920T170000
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20210317T173526Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210318T174422Z
UID:1869-1600614000-1600621200@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: PRISON THEATRE Book Tour with Ashley Lucas
DESCRIPTION:On Sunday\, September 20th\, we hosted a virtual book for Prison Theatre and the Global Crisis of Incarceration by Ashley Lucas. We had a good turnout on Zoom–Ashley was in Michigan\, Howard in New York\, Al and Nick in Seattle\, lots of friends in Portland and Carlos from Peru! Prison Theatre was published by Methuen Drama on September 3\, 2020. An interview with Ashley is featured in the September 3rd issue of the peace\, love\, happiness & understanding journal.  \n  \nThe fourth Shakespeare in Prisons Conference is highlighting Ashley’s book. Here are some links: \n  \nAshley being interviewed about her Prison Theatre book: \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76dfvyk_bB0&t=6s \nAshley talking with returned citizens who have performed in plays in prison: \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28mGM-3t30g \nConversation between Ashley and prison theatre directors. (Note. I’m in this one (JS)): \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGYQEqUIUdQ \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-prison-theatre-book-tour-with-ashley-lucas/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/0-7.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200917
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20200924
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20200917T234643Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T120733Z
UID:1284-1600300800-1600905599@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  9/17/20
DESCRIPTION:The Platters \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nSeptember 17\, 2020 \n  \nIt’s smoky. For the past week\, Portland has had the worst air quality of any major city on the planet. And there’s a lot of competition! But\, for now\, our air is worse than the air in Delhi\, India or Shanghai\, China. Nancy and I have been joking about meeting in smoky places\, like in the song by the Corsairs (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGDvR-7ughY). And then\, of course\, there’s the Platters’ hit: “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2di83WAOhU). And we can’t forget Smokey Robinson (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mv9cWgkpIZ4). My friend Nick Eldredge is a fan of Smokey Stover. Notary sojack. \n  \nAaron Gilbert wrote that he has been fighting fires. Kim Stafford sent me an email on Monday: \n  \nThis morning early\, reading about inmates on the fire lines\, it came to this. \n  \n                     Inmate Fights Fire  \n  \nWhen it gets really bad\, they want me out—out there \non that fire-line\, sweating sparks\, staring down flames \nI look up to as I dig like some fiend. Dollar an hour \nto be a crispy critter to save somebody’s home. Yeah\, they \nfigure the same jinx of brave and stupid got me convicted \nmight make me right to stand my ground for fire.  \n  \nLike these boots? Like this hickory handle I flick \nback and forth so my shovel slashes dirt\, leaves \nno food fire can eat? I like leaning back to see \nthat red sun staring through these skeleton trees \nlike bars in my cellblock window. And the wind \nbrings me smoke for free. Free?  \n  \nWhen my sentence ends\, you think I’ll walk free? \nYou think they’ll look at me to say\, “He’s good”? \nThey plot their own fire-line to keep me on the dark side. \nGot it? Like my face tattoo says “Bad Man. Don’t Hire.” \nYou can walk out the prison gate\, but try walking through \nthe reputation wall to freedom after they call you felon.  \n  \nI served my time. Serious good behavior. And after? \nGive me a chance. Or shall I say\, I’ve been burned. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nPart of that poem reminded me of Randall Brown’s song “One Second Chance.” I met Randall in the Arts In Prison group at Columbia River Correctional Institution. At one point in his life he was living in Nashville and earning his living writing songs. Just as Kim adopted a persona for his poem\, Randall\, who never imagined he would actually go to prison\, wrote a song about a guy who has just gotten out of prison. Here are the lyrics: \n  \nIt says here you’re from Houston \nAnd you’re certified to drive a truck \nBut it doesn’t say what you’ve been doin’ \nFor the last five years \nThen he watched his eyes keep readin’ \nThen he watched his eyes look up \nAnd he watched another job he needed just disappear \n  \n‘Cause when they get to the line \nHave you been convicted of a crime \nThey say thanks for comin’ and they don’t call you back \nI ain’t askin’ for every job under the sun \nI just want one \nSecond chance \n  \nOn August 22nd  \nLittle Jacob’s turnin’ nine \nBut his momma moved him \nA half a state away \nI left another message \nOn her phone at home last night \nAnd she finally had her lawyer \nCall today \n  \nShe knows he can’t afford  \nTo take this thing to court \nAnd I’m tryin’ hard to make her understand \nI’m not askin’ for every weekend of every month \nI just want one \nSecond chance \n  \nI was young and I was stupid \nI regret it everyday \nI ain’t saying I didn’t do it \nBut I’ve paid for my mistakes \nIt’s a lost and empty feeling when they don’t want you around \nI’ve finally got my freedom but what good is it now \n  \nThere’s some day’s when it feels like it’s been a 100 years \nSometimes it seems like only yesterday \nWe were painting Jacob’s nursery \nCounting days until he was here \nNext thing I knew I’d thrown it all away \nNow I know I can’t go back \nTo the life I used to have \nWhen I still held the whole world in my hands \nI had a job I had a wife I had a son \nNow I just want one \nSecond chance \n  \n—Randall Brown \n* \nRandall says:  \n  \nI’ve been out almost 2 years. My current job is foreman for a construction company. I’ve just accepted a position as an operations manager for a commercial construction company in Portland.  \nWhen I got out I was nervous because of the stigma we get as inmates. But my reentry to society went great. I was able to find work within a few days. I did get divorced while in\, but I’ve found a woman who accepts me for me and not my past.  \n* \n  \nThinking about smoke and fires\, I naturally thought of Gary Snyder’s “Smokey the Bear Sutra”: \n  \nSMOKEY THE BEAR SUTRA \n  \nOnce in the Jurassic about 150 million years ago\, the Great Sun Buddha in this corner of the Infinite Void gave a discourse to all the assembled elements and energies: to the standing beings\, the walking beings\, the flying beings\, and the sitting beings–even the grasses\, to the number of thirteen billion\, each one born from a seed\, assembled there: a Discourse concerning Enlightenment on the planet Earth. \n“In some future time\, there will be a continent called America. It will have great centers of power called such as Pyramid Lake\, Walden Pond\, Mt. Rainier\, Big Sur\, Everglades\, and so forth; and powerful nerves and channels such as Columbia River\, Mississippi River\, and Grand Canyon. The human race in that era will get into troubles all over its head\, and practically wreck everything in spite of its own strong intelligent Buddha-nature.” \n“The twisting strata of the great mountains and the pulsings of volcanoes are my love burning deep in the earth. My obstinate compassion is schist and basalt and granite\, to be mountains\, to bring down the rain. In that future American Era I shall enter a new form; to cure the world of loveless knowledge that seeks with blind hunger: and mindless rage eating food that will not fill it.” \nAnd he showed himself in his true form of \nSMOKEY THE BEAR \n     A handsome smokey-colored brown bear standing on his hind legs\, showing that he is aroused and watchful. \n     Bearing in his right paw the Shovel that digs to the truth beneath appearances; cuts the roots of useless attachments\, and flings damp sand on the fires of greed and war; \n     His left paw in the mudra of Comradely Display–indicating that all creatures have the full right to live to their limits and that of deer\, rabbits\, chipmunks\, snakes\, dandelions\, and lizards all grow in the realm of the Dharma; \n     Wearing the blue work overalls symbolic of slaves and laborers\, the countless men oppressed by a civilization that claims to save but often destroys; \n     Wearing the broad-brimmed hat of the west\, symbolic of the forces that guard the wilderness\, which is the Natural State of the Dharma and the true path of man on Earth: all true paths lead through mountains— \n     With a halo of smoke and flame behind\, the forest fires of the kali-yuga\, fires caused by the stupidity of those who think things can be gained and lost whereas in truth all is contained vast and free in the Blue Sky and Green Earth of One Mind; \n     Round-bellied to show his kind nature and that the great earth has food enough for everyone who loves her and trusts her; \n     Trampling underfoot wasteful freeways and needless suburbs\, smashing the worms of capitalism and totalitarianism; \n     Indicating the task: his followers\, becoming free of cars\, houses\, canned foods\, universities\, and shoes\, master the Three Mysteries of their own Body\, Speech\, and Mind; and fearlessly chop down the rotten trees and prune out the sick limbs of this country America and then burn the leftover trash. \nWrathful but calm. Austere but Comic. Smokey the Bear will Illuminate those who would help him; but for those who would hinder or slander him… \nHE WILL PUT THEM OUT. \nThus his great Mantra: \n     Namah samanta vajranam chanda maharoshana  \n     Sphataya hum traka ham mam \n     “I DEDICATE MYSELF TO THE UNIVERSAL DIAMOND  \n     BE THIS RAGING FURY DESTROYED” \nAnd he will protect those who love the woods and rivers\, Gods and animals\, hobos and madmen\, prisoners and sick people\, musicians\, playful women\, and hopeful children: \nAnd if anyone is threatened by advertising\, air pollution\, television\, or the police\, they should chant SMOKEY THE BEAR’S WAR SPELL: \nDROWN THEIR BUTTS \nCRUSH THEIR BUTTS \nDROWN THEIR BUTTS \nCRUSH THEIR BUTTS \nAnd SMOKEY THE BEAR will surely appear to put the enemy out with his vajra-shovel. \nNow those who recite this Sutra and then try to put it in practice will accumulate merit as countless as the sands of Arizona and Nevada. \n  \nWill help save the planet Earth from total oil slick. \nWill enter the age of harmony of man and nature. \nWill win the tender love and caresses of men\, women\, and beasts. \nWill always have ripened blackberries to eat and a sunny spot under a pine tree to sit at. \n  \nAND IN THE END WILL WIN HIGHEST PERFECT ENLIGHTENMENT \nthus we have heard. \n  \n(may be reproduced free forever)  \n  \n—Gary Snyder \n* \nThat reminds me of a joke… \n  \nWhat do Alexander the Great and Smokey the Bear have in common? \nSame middle name. \n  \nAnd now it’s time to sing along to the Smokey the Bear Song with Eddy Arnold: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Myz93sXW66Y \n  \npeace & love \n  \n—Johnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-9-17-20/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200915
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201015
DTSTAMP:20260425T170948
CREATED:20200915T225612Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20211130T020006Z
UID:1274-1600128000-1602719999@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue
DESCRIPTION:Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nSeptember 15\, 2020 \n  \nWelcome to our first meditation and mindfulness dialogue! The numbers below refer to passages from the book Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh. (JS) \n  \n#159  A Healing Mantra \nAlthough I myself am locked within walls & a structure of rules\, the cosmos still sustains me and it still nourishes me. I am isolated yet I feel no alienation from the world. I cannot touch a tree or a cloud\, but yet I still feel them. I know they are there for me just outside the walls. For now\, my friends & my family are the light of the sun\, and the door of my heart is filled with love\, light & sun from theirs. Being stripped to the simplest form of oneself will allow you to be filled full of all the beauty that the cosmos has to offer. Empty yourself to be filled with the wonders of life. \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \n#49 – What is a leaf? \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. \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! \nPeace Love Happiness \n—Jake Green \n* \nOriginally\, I had no intention of sharing this\, as it was written by inspiration to myself as though it were a summation of what I see as the core of my soul\, for lack of better words\, and also like a mantra and daily meditation. Here it is: \n  \nI am the good man. \nI am the good decisions that I make. \nI am compassion\, I do not fake. \nI am kindness\, I am love. \nI am by choice\, not by chance. \nI am intent\, not happenstance. \nI am in servitude of good. \nI am alive and I am living. \nI am grateful I am. \n  \n—Joseph Opyd \n* \n#6  Concentration \nConcentration is an interesting concept in prison—Why should I want to concentrate on my situation being what it is? But as I’ve grown spiritually\, I’ve come to realize how useful concentration can be.  \nThere is a lot to complain about in life\, but there is also a lot to enjoy! Concentration\, or focusing on what I think as I’m thinking it\, and what I feel as I’m feeling it\, has taught me that my life is richer if I concentrate on the “good” and the “bad”—accepting both for what they are and their role in my life. The passage in the book (#6) talks of the power of concentration in creating happiness at any time. I do think this is important\, however the more useful aspect of concentration for me is being able to be fully—(or as close as I can come for now)—aware of the situations that I find myself in\, and what ripples I make in that environment. Concentration\, or mindfulness\, has also helped me embrace the “bad” parts of life. By being mindful of the roots of my reactions and feelings when a “bad” thing happens I have learned to cope\, embrace and/or overcome these situations\, while gaining a little more skill in mindfulness. \nMy point is that by being mindful I have learned that there is value in all situations. While I suffer I learn\, while I’m happy I learn. Mindfulness is our tool to dig through the layers of our minds and be really truly in the moment\, allowing us to remove reaction and embrace each event for what it is truly worth\, “good\,” or “bad.” \n—Cody Dalton \n* \nI find myself\, my soul\, my beliefs and my being saturated in belonging—belonging to a love so deep\, so real\, so unreal. Coming from a life of nothing and going to a life full of love I never knew I could be a part of. A love that I knew was there\, there for others\, but for me…well\, it was only window shopping. \nNow I long to be drenched in the core of my soul\, always and forever drowning in this love\, this love that has pierced my cosmic veil. This love for all\, for beauty\, for the ones who opened so many doors into and onto the mind\, heart and truth that dwells within my being. \n  \n#191  Love is Understanding \nWhen we do not understand things we fear them. There was a time for myself\, and not too long ago\, when I was fearful of myself. Fearful of who I used to be\, and fearful of the things I had done. Fearful of what I was capable of. I did not fully understand myself\, because I was hiding from myself. When I opened up and allowed someone in\, someone who is truly there for me—only then did I have the strength to face myself and understand why I did what I did\, who I am\, and who I was. Only then did I find the compassion to forgive my demons\, and leave them\, and forgive myself. Love is understanding not just our own faults\, but the faults of others—loving them and loving ourselves. \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \n#4  Ambassador of the Cosmos \nI love Thich Nhat Hanh’s word “interbeing” and what it suggests to my imagination—the interdependence and interconnectedness of everyone and everything! In this passage he doesn’t use the word\, but he describes how when he looks deeply into a piece of bread\, he sees the sunshine\, the rain and the earth without which there would be no bread. Some people imagine that they are somehow “independent\,” but with every breath we take\, oxygen revitalizes our blood\, and we exhale carbon dioxide which nourishes the trees\, which produce oxygen… I’m glad I get to be part of this whole miraculous process that has no beginning or end. \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \nWhat is it that you really know? Not just what you have been told or what you think or have read or surmise but something that you deeply know. And how is that different from the other kind of knowing where you think it or have heard it? I think starting with what your base understanding is one of the most crucial steps in meditation. Knowing your own inner ground….and what you don’t know. Write it down. And maybe a few months or years from now you can come back to it and see if anything has changed. \n  \nWhat Do I Know? \n  \nClosing my eyes\, \na silent darkness\, \nlight \nat the edges. \nMy breath moves \nup and down\,  \nholding each moment\, \ninhalation \nthen release. \nThe human heart \nis quixotic\, \nmalleable\, \nalmost like a berry \nin the palm of my hand. \nIn my ears\, \na deeper space \nthat stretches out\, \na disappearing \nreverberation. \nWe touch nothingness. \n  \n—Deborah Buchanan\, from Layers of Sediment \n* \nWhen I invited people who don’t live in prison to be part of our new meditation and mindfulness community\, I included Jake Green’s meditations on “What is a Leaf?” Scott Teitsworth was reminded by Jake’s “sweet words” of a passage from a book he edited by his guru\, Nitya Chaitanya Yati. (JS) \nEven when you do something as simple as sip a cup of coffee or tea\, think about what you are doing. Your morning tea begins in some far-off land\, where very poor people get up at four o’clock. They crowd onto a battered bus\, then walk to the plantation where ripe leaves are waiting to cut into their fingers. Leeches climb on them to drink their blood. All day long they fill their baskets\, then they go home to a meager supper. The tea leaves are hauled to huge mills employing hundreds of people\, where they are cleaned\, dried\, and made into the kind of blend you want. Then it is put in tins or boxes\, and sent by truck down the mountains and out to the coast. The shipyard is filled with more poor laborers\, who load the tea onboard ships. Then across the ocean it comes to your port.The distributors parcel and package it and send it to your local market\, where you buy it and take it home. Thus the whole world participates in one cup of tea. If you like sugar with your tea\, there is another world of production and distribution behind that spoonful of white grains you tip into the cup. So should you not look into the numinous aspect of just a cup of tea? \nIf you become sensitive to the numinous aspect of life\, gratitude will naturally fill your whole being. Each time you put a morsel of food in your mouth or sip your tea or coffee\, you will become so grateful to the corporate life of mankind for giving you so much for so little effort. You will see nothing but the unity underlying the many forms of the world. Great will be your joy to share\, to give\, to receive. Then you won’t fight. The belligerency comes in where you see only your own personal interests—“my home\,” “my family\,” or just“my self.” The superficial form of your self interest should be subsumed in the ocean of the general interest\, and you should feel the world is your country\, your home. That humanity is your family\, filled with your brothers and sisters. \nThe Guru* wants us to really feel this: to stand united\, to find peace and become peacemakers. We have to first be peacemakers in our own lives. We bring peace to ourselves. By putting all the peaces together\, we make peace with the world.If you fragment it\, you lose it. So let us gather all the peaces together in one meaning\, in one divine thread of love and compassion and understanding. \n  \n—from That Alone: The Core of Wisdom by Nitya Chaitanya Yati pp. 140-141 \n*Narayana Guru (1856-1928). This book is a long commentary inspired by a philosophical poem by Narayana Guru\, Ātmopadeśa Shatakam. \n—Scott Teitsworth \n* \n#7   Why we suffer \nThich Nhat Hanh reminds me that all things change\, and I will suffer if I refuse this truth\, like a stone in the river trying to stop water’s journey\, I will be rolled and all my rough edges worn away. When he speaks of the river\, I remember a time we went to a back channel and wandered along in a canoe\, and I entered a kind of trance of well-being as the river flowed and sunlight splashed everything alive. When I suffer sometimes\, when I wake at night and remember my failures\, I go back to the river in my mind\, and try to see it for what it is: \n  \nCall me the scruffy hermit of willow islands. \nCall me the skipping stone eager to squander all \nfor a few joyful episodes of buoyancy. I could be \ncounting money? I could be a hero of fame? \nCall me one lost to water’s wonders\, far gone \ndown a back channel gaping at water beads \ndripping brilliant from the paddle’s blade.  \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \nI look through my study cards. Today’s contemplation is “Observation of the Mind.” Do I have solid mindfulness established\, or is my mind more of the scattered quality? To what degree are desire/lust\, anger\, and confusion present or absent in my mind? This is not about judgement; as humans\, we spend so much time with these mental qualities that we might as well use them as meditation tools. This is more like a checklist\, is a quality present or absent? The card reminds me: all mental contents arise and pass away. Can I observe that right now? Can I see that my thoughts now are different than my thoughts 10 minutes ago? Bonus points if I can train myself to have some awareness of others\, that other people also have rapidly changing mental qualities. “Your True Home” (YTH) speaks about this exercise at item 120\, “Mindfulness of the Mind.” Another exercise I can do with my mind\, and its contents\, is to ask if current thoughts are beneficial to my wellbeing and the wellbeing of those around me\, or if they detract from wellbeing. Again\, this is not about judgement or criticism\, it is about taking inventory of the mind. Flipping through YTH\, I find this in item 47. \n—Shad Alexander \n* \nSpaciousness \nIt is 4:45 am. A small glimmer of light in the eastern sky\, but a mass of stars still predominates in the dome above. My favorite time of the day: mornnight. My mind is rested and fresh\, still empty. \nI have two and a half days of precious spaciousness. My husband is away for a couple days of bike riding while I had planned to go away camping with women friends. My outing was cancelled because of high winds\, falling trees and fire danger. David said\, “Oh well\, I won’t go if you’re going to be here alone.” I said\, with a duplicitous smile\, “Oh no\, you go ahead. You don’t want to disappoint your friends by not showing up. I’ll be fine.” \nDon’t get me wrong; I love my husband\, but he should know\, after 36 years\, that I treasure these infrequent\, but cherished times of aloneness. And this one is serendipitous spaciousness. I am never lonely being alone. I am filled with empty spaciousness. The house feels bigger. It is breathing and expanding\, and I breathe and expand\, in tandem\, like singing a harmonious duet. \nDuet. Round: In my family we played duets on the piano and sang rounds. “Go to Joan Glover and tell her I love her\, and by the light of the moon I will come to her.” Repeat one bar after the first has been sung. Etc. And\, “Orléans\, Beaugency\, Notre-Dame de Cléry\, Vendôme\, Vendôme…”  Sung as a round\, it sounds like cathedral bells tolling throughout the city. We sang dozens of rounds. \nSpaciousness allows my mind to remember things like this. My mind can rest or wander; either way\, it awakens refreshed\, mindful. \n—Jude Russell \n* \nReading some passages in Your True Home\, I was again impressed with how beautifully Thich Nhat Hanh expresses complex Buddhist concepts in clear\, easy to understand language. One of these concepts that touched me this morning was #9: I Have Arrived. So much of our lives are concerned with striving–we want to learn things\, we want to get better at things\, we want to excel\, we want to create. And this striving is wonderful: it has produced our art\, science\, architecture\, literature\, airplanes\, medicine…our civilization\, the civilizations that came before us and those that will come after us. But the most important thing about life–greater than any discovery\, creation\, or attainment– is the simple fact that we are alive. When we’re in great danger\, or facing a serious illness\, we often remember that nothing is more important than protecting our precious life. But the practice of meditation is taking time to appreciate this fact without the stimulus of danger. If we open our eyes and ears we can remember how fantastic it is\, how precious\, how exciting\, how beautiful\, how crazy it is that we are here. We have arrived. We are not only alive but we can be aware of our life and we can appreciate our life. Meditation practice is taking time to appreciate this amazing fact.  \n—Howard Thoresen \n* \nI’ve tried to learn meditation a few different times and I’ve never succeeded. My self-discipline is spotty\, my posture’s always off\, and I forget the proper hand positions. My body gets uncomfortable and my brain rebels against meditating. My thoughts increase instead of quieting down. Plus\, I’m not a very Buddhist-like person\, thanks to my intemperate ways. I gave up trying to meditate years ago.   \nAfter giving up\, though\, a funny thing started happening. I noticed that my mind would sometimes quiet down on its own\, without much effort from me. When I’m outside I get absorbed by the awesome fullness of life. When I sit in my house and pay attention I feel content with my heartbeat and the peace in my local airspace. When I let my thinking and my judgements be calm the outer and inner worlds do just fine. This balance doesn’t last indefinitely; there are things to do—groceries\, e-mails\, etc. But I can return pretty easily to what Alan Watts calls “sitting quietly\, doing nothing.”  I’ll leave the meditating to the pros. I’m simply grateful for the moment\, and being part of it\, and having people to share it with. \n—Bill Faricy \n* \n78  The Wounded Child \nI was planning on writing about another part of the book\, but I read this\, this morning\, and it kind of hit me like I needed to write about this instead. \nI guess a good question is: what is the child inside of us? I suppose it is part of us\, the child that is\, just because we grow into adulthood we don’t necessarily leave that child behind—he or she comes with us. I believe children are more susceptible\, at a young age\, especially to trauma. I think a traumatic experience as a child can have more of an effect than experiencing that same trauma at an older age. \nI sometimes struggle with a lack of self worth\, and have some insecurities. I am sure most people do\, and maybe being in prison just heightens them. For instance\, sometimes I struggle to even call my family. I will convince myself that they don’t want to hear from me and they have better things to do than talking to me. \nI have recently reconnected with a girlfriend from my past. Talking to her has been great\, but when she says\, “I love you\,” in my mind I say that doesn’t make sense. I have made so many mistakes. Am I worthy of Love? I feel I have worked very hard these last fourteen years to become a better human being. I try to be kind and compassionate to others. Is that enough? I don’t have much else. What if I screw up again? I think maybe that is the child inside of me that is scared. \nI think in these moments of insecurity if we are able to recognize the source\, and why we are feeling this way\, we can begin to heal them. I realize I have done some amazing things with my time in prison. I have met some amazing people along the way that have taught me so much about life and its true meaning. I am not angry anymore and have become a very patient\, understanding person. Maybe sometimes too patient—it may take me a couple days to answer someone’s  question sometimes. I want to make sure I understand what they are asking before I answer though. Geez! I do truly believe that all humans are worthy of being loved\, so I guess that includes myself. Dang it! I know the best thing I can do for myself is continue to live a healthy clean life\, love others\, and surround myself with like-minded people—and when she answers my call\, enjoy it for all it’s worth in the here and now. My hope is that someday I will be a successful productive member of society\, and when that child inside comes calling I can reassure him that we have the tools to live a healthy life\, and everything is going to be okay. \n—Aaron Gilbert \n* \nYour True Home: It is in the now\, the breath\, the fully aware moment. I can’t add to or take away from it. And\, if I hold on to it\, I get stuck because new “now” moments have begun piling up behind this one. If I touch it\, let it go—not holding on to anything—then I can flow from one now to the next\, feeling everything.  I see a connection to Kristen’s topic of “Contentment.” When I can be content with life as it is\, instead of wasting energy with how it was\, I have one less roadblock to the “now” moment.” When I can allow my guard down\, for myself at least (if not for others)\, I can enter that moment to begin the experience as it is. Then I can breathe and allow each “now” moment to come and go as they wish. \nIn spite of all this “now” mindfulness\, “in the moment” talk is that I can’t\, (won’t or don’t)\, just let go of ego\, barriers\, worries past and present\, judgements\, etc. Well\, not for as long as I think\, or tell myself I should. I tell myself that I “want” to do this. I attend the Zen practice sessions so I can practice being more skilled at this—sometimes I even succeed at something\, which leads me back to all that I judge. (Thanks\, Jake.) I “need” to let go. Once in a while\, I do somehow\, more by happy accident than skillful action\, manage to set everything down\, breathe\, and contentedly exist. The more often I struggle with this\, the more often I manage to stumble into aware\, conscious breathing\, where thoughts come and go without my bidding\, or following another white rabbit. Someday\, I want to arrive at my True Home. \nEven this work is plagued by ego\, self-aware judgement\, criticism\, worry about the opinions of others—that I don’t somehow measure up to some arbitrary standard. (All of this is more in my head than in reality.) It all comes from awareness that I am no expert\, guru\, or skilled practitioner of mindfulness\, but find myself at the beginning. Always At The Beginning!!—just like everyone else: breathing\, just breathing\, being gentle and kind when I see I have followed another wild hare off into some dark forest and away from my thoughtful breath. \n—Michel Deforge \n* \nThis is one of my favorite guided meditations from Thich Nhat Hanh.  \nIt begins with his signature meditation on being aware of our most basic source of life. \nTake three deep breaths then breathing normally\, gently\, follow someone saying to you the following\, or say to yourself:  \n  \n“Breathing in I am aware that I am breathing in.  Breathing out I am aware of breathing out.”  \nIn\, out. . . . . in\, out . . . .  \nIn\, out. . . . . in\, out . . . .  \nIn\, out. . . . . in\, out . . . .  \n  \nBreathing in\, I see myself as a flower. \nBreathing out\, I feel fresh. \nFlower/Fresh  (say this to yourself\, for three in and out breaths) \n  \nBreathing in\, I see myself as a mountain. \nBreathing out\, I feel solid. \nMountain/Solid \n  \nBreathing in\, I see myself as a mountain lake. \nBreathing out\, I reflect things as they are. \nWater/Reflecting \n  \nBreathing in\, I see myself as the sky or space. \nBreathing out\, I feel free. \nSpace/Free. \n  \nSome of my reflections on this practice. \nOn being a flower: \nWhen I sit and see myself as a plum blossom\, I feel delicate and careful\, I want to be aware of the subtle fragrance and the fresh air. I feel still and listen for the insects and the breeze in the tree.   \nLater\, when I want to thank someone\, like my yoga teacher or a friend that brings a gift\,  I remember feeling like a flower\, and I will put my palms together and offer a “flower bud” of thanks.  \nOn being a mountain: \nMoving from feeling like something delicate to feeling solid as a mountain\, grounds me and I feel a strength\,  and a knowing  that makes me feel more steady than any fleeting emotions.  \nOn being a mountain lake: \nThe water is still\, we can reflect what is aroud us\, like trees on the shore that are inverted but without distortion.  Such a sense of calm.   \nOn being the sky : \nThe feeling of spaciousness fills me with each breath.  Beyond judgement\, I feel space in and out\, and appreciate the space we need to give one another to be fully human and unique. \nThis simple meditation moves us through an expansive experience with just four images that are familiar to us all\, because we are alive on this planet.   \nThere is a song that goes along with this meditation\, that can help tune us up.   I will find a copy with the music and send it next time if you all are interested.  \nI hope you will find some peace\,  be well.   \nA plum blossom to you\,  Katie \n(I wish I could send you some plums that are growing now on the plum tree) \n—Katie Radditz \n* \nOur dialogue begins. Thank you. We’re off to a good start!  \nToday\, on September 15th\, I’m mailing this to just under a dozen people living in prison and emailing it to just under two dozen people who aren’t. It’s a conversation. Feel free to write and email me in response to something somebody shared. That will be the basis of the next letter\, which will go out on October 15th. Also\, between now and then\, please send me your ruminations on passages from Your True Home or other poems or texts. Or just your thoughts. Or a poem. \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in peace and love. \n  \n—Johnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Unknown.jpeg
END:VEVENT
END:VCALENDAR