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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200422
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20200515
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200329T010432Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20200423T003902Z
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SUMMARY:Hamilton Cheifetz: Inside Chamber Music Classes
DESCRIPTION:Monday\, March 30 was scheduled to be the first of eight Inside Chamber Music classes\, and since they have been postponed\, Friends of Chamber Music and I are going to post some music and stories from last Spring’s classes.  Here is a recent one: \n  \n\n\nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1Ui8k-16dY\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n–Hamilton
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/hamilton-cheifetz-inside-chamber-music-classes/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200430
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20200507
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200501T233930Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T023737Z
UID:765-1588204800-1588809599@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love & happiness  4/30/20
DESCRIPTION:THE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love & happiness \n  \nApril 30\, 2020 \nThe little tags on my Yogi Tea bags are reminding me that \nPeople who love are happy. \nand exhorting me to \nLive light\, travel light\, spread the light\, be the light. \n* \nThe baby beats the nurse\, and quite athwart  \nGoes all decorum. \n(from “Measure for Measure” by William Shakespeare\, Act 1\, scene 3) \n* \nI was taking a virtual tour of the Rijksmuseum [click on link] and came upon the wonderful painting “The Merry Family” by Jan Steen (1626-1679). The commentator on the painting said that this was supposed to be a kind of cautionary tale: if the adults get drunk\, horse around\, and play music they are setting a bad example for the children. To me the painting sends a different “message.” It is a picture of human happiness. It reminds me of a poem by one of my dad’s favorite poets\, Carl Sandburg: \n  \nHAPPINESS \nI asked professors who teach the meaning of life to tell me what is happiness. \nAnd I went to famous executives who boss the work of thousands of men. \nThey all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though I was trying to fool with them. \nAnd then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along the Desplaines river \nAnd I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with their women and children and a keg of beer and an accordion. \n—Carl Sandburg \n* \nShakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” is a celebration of earthly pleasures. The Fool’s name is Feste\, which suggests “festive” and “festival”—a joyful feast. Malvolio\, the Puritan\, wants everyone to stop drinking and dancing and singing and go to bed. He’s outnumbered. Sir Toby Belch sums up the play’s philosophy:  \n“Care’s an enemy to life.” \n* \nI love Louis Armstrong. I got to see him perform a couple times. His joy is sublime! \nI recently woke up with this song in my head\, “A Lot of Living to Do”: \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnvQDJXR85c \n* \nI’m no Oscar Wilde\, but in the course of my long life I’ve come up with an aphorism or two. Here’s one: \nHappiness is the art of not making yourself miserable. \n  \nWilliam Blake wrote many doozies. For example: \nThe soul of sweet delight can never be defiled. \n* \nHere’s the first poem in The Poetical Works of Thomas Traherne: \n  \nThe Salutation \n         These little limbs\, \n    These eyes and hands which here I find\, \nThese rosy cheeks wherewith my life begins\, \n    Where have ye been? behind \nWhat curtain were ye from me hid so long? \nWhere was\, in what abyss\, my speaking tongue? \n  \n         When silent I    \n    So many thousand\, thousand years \nBeneath the dust did in a chaos lie\, \n    How could I smiles or tears\, \nOr lips or hands or eyes or ears perceive? \nWelcome ye treasures which I now receive. \n  \n         I that so long \n    Was nothing from eternity\, \nDid little think such joys as ear or tongue \n    To celebrate or see: \nSuch sounds to hear\, such hands to feel\, such feet\, \nBeneath the skies on such a ground to meet. \n  \n         New burnished joys\, \n    Which yellow gold and pearls excel! \nSuch sacred treasures are the limbs in boys\, \n    In which a soul doth dwell; \nTheir organised joints and azure veins \nMore wealth include than all the world contains. \n  \n         From dust I rise\, \n    And out of nothing now awake; \nThese brighter regions which salute mine eyes\, \n    A gift from God I take. \nThe earth\, the seas\, the light\, the day\, the skies\, \nThe sun and stars are mine\, if those I prize. \n  \n         Long time before \n    I in my mother’s womb was born\, \nA God preparing did this glorious store \n    The world for me adorn. \nInto this Eden so divine and fair\, \nSo wide and bright\, I come His son and heir. \n  \n         A stranger here \n    Strange things doth meet\, strange glories see; \nStrange treasures lodged in this fair world appear\, \n    Strange all and new to me; \nBut that they mine should be\, who nothing was\, \nThat strangest is of all\, yet brought to pass. \n* \nOne of my favorite short poems by Walt Whitman is this one: \n  \nBEGINNING MY STUDIES \nBeginning my studies the first step pleas’d me so much\,  \nThe mere fact consciousness\, these forms\, the power of motion\, \nThe least insect or animal\, the senses\, eyesight\, love\, \nThe first step I say awed me and pleas’d me so much\, \nI have hardly gone and hardly wish’d to go any farther\, \nBut stop and loiter all the time to sing it in ecstatic songs. \n* \nAn Old Tale \nOnce there was a king who wanted to be happy. His wise counselors informed him that he needed to acquire the shirt of a happy man. So\, he sent his soldiers out in quest of such a shirt. One by one they returned empty-handed. None of them could find a happy man. Finally\, the last soldier returned.  \nThe king asked\, “Did you find a happy man?”  \n“Yes\,” the soldier said.  \n“Where’s his shirt?\,” asked the king.  \n“He didn’t have one.” \n* \nMay all people be happy. \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \nKim Stafford kindly shared this excerpt from his book-in-progress\, Writing for Happiness: \n  \nI invite you to use writing to live in accordance with the Dao\, to write in order to achieve fluent response to events\, to behave in synch with “happ\,” what happens. This is a different path to happiness than what I once understood\, because it does not avoid the difficult\, but by the hands-on process of writing\, incorporates the difficult into the search for equanimity. To be with happ is to be happ-y. That is\, to be honest\, a realist\, practical about the available dimensions of joy that exist within a matrix of complexity and difficulty.       \nThe pursuit of happiness may be an inalienable right\, but it is also a stern task. “You don’t get to the good life by living the good life\,” says the tough immigrant proverb\, and so it is with happiness. You don’t get to be truly happy by coasting along avoiding the difficult. Life is suffering\, after all\, and happiness can’t change that\, even as it flickers and is snuffed\, and flickers again.      \nBut the pursuit of happiness calls to us all the same. I believe that an enhanced definition of happiness makes the task possible—that to be “happy” is to live in accordance with what happens—and that the serious play of writing\, jotting\, scribbling\, composing can be a way to pursue—and attain—a responsible and generous kind of happiness. \n—Kim Stafford \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-newsletter-4-30-5-6/
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DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20200502T190000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20200502T203000
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200220T132223Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20200314T000113Z
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SUMMARY:Storyteller William Kennedy Hornyak Presents: Erin's Daughters
DESCRIPTION:PERFORMANCES: \n  \nSaturday May 2  7:00 p.m.  \nImmersion Brewing Barrel Room   \n550 SE Industrial Way  S.  \nBend\, OR \nmusic by Peter Lepanto \n  \nSaturday May 16   7:30 p.m. \nArtichoke Music   2007 SE Powell Blvd.   Portland \n*Contact Artichoke music for res. and tickets \n  \nAll Shows $15.00 Cash at the Door Unless Otherwise Noted * \nReservations Recommended: hornyak.will@gmail.com or 503 697-5808 \n  \nSTORYTELLING WORKSHOPS: \nWell Told: Crafting Personal Narratives \nWe all have stories to tell and a unique voice and style with which to tell them.     Truly memorable personal stories have a mythic quality to them.  They provide a window to a larger world through the ordinary moments of our lives.  The work of telling personal narratives is often to distill the universal from the personal\, to find the common veins of meaning that connect to us all.      During this workshop we will write\, hear and tell stories from our lives and explore the varied threads of meaning that run through them.  We will use traditional folktales and myths as a backdrop for our own stories.  We will create a supportive environment to develop our own storytelling voices and styles of telling.        We will consider the basics of a well-told tale and the tools required for all storytellers\, be it for rendering personal narratives or traditional tales.  No previous storytelling experience is required. \n  \nBend  Sunday May 3 10 a.m.-2:30 p.m. \nPlace T.B.D.  $40.00 \n  \nPortland Sunday May 17  10 a.m. – 2:30 p.m. \nPlace T.B.D.    $40.00 \n  \nReservations: hornyak.will@gmail.com
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/storyteller-william-kennedy-hornyak-presents-erins-daughters/
LOCATION:Immersion Brewing Barrel Room\, 550 Industrial Way S.\, Bend\, OR
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200507
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20200514
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200509T210805Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20220718T222044Z
UID:799-1588809600-1589414399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love & happiness newsletter  5/7/20
DESCRIPTION:THE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love & happiness newsletter \n  \nMay 7\, 2020 \n  \nRobert G. Ingersoll (1833-1899) was a free thinker\, orator and essayist. He was a friend of Mark Twain. He gave the eulogy at Walt Whitman’s funeral. Below is an abridged version of an address he gave to the State Bar Association at Albany\, N.Y.\, on January 1st\, 1890: \n  \nCRIMES AGAINST CRIMINALS \nAll nations seem to have had supreme confidence in the deterrent power of threatened and inflicted pain. They have regarded punishment as the shortest road to reformation. Imprisonment\, torture\, death\, constituted a trinity under whose protection society might feel secure. \nIn addition to these\, nations have relied on confiscation and degradation\, on maimings\, whippings\, brandings\, and exposures to public ridicule and contempt. Connected with the court of justice was the chamber of torture. The ingenuity of man was exhausted in the construction of instruments that would surely reach the most sensitive nerve. All this was done in the interest of civilization—for the protection of virtue\, and the well-being of states. Curiously it was found that the penalty of death made little difference. Thieves and highwaymen\, heretics and blasphemers\, went on their way…. \nThe fact is that\, no matter how severe the punishments were\, the crimes increased. \nFor petty offences men were degraded—given to the mercy of the rabble. Their ears were cut off\, their nostrils slit\, their foreheads branded. They were tied to the tails of carts and flogged from one town to another. And yet\, in spite of all\, the poor wretches obstinately refused to become good and useful citizens. \nDegradation has been thoroughly tried\, with its maimings and brandings\, and the result was that those who inflicted the punishments became as degraded as their victims. \nOnly a few years ago there were more than two hundred offences in Great Britain punishable by death. The gallows-tree bore fruit through all the year\, and the hangman was the busiest official in the kingdom—but the criminals increased. \nCrimes were committed to punish crimes\, and crimes were committed to prevent crimes. The world has been filled with prisons and dungeons\, with chains and whips\, with crosses and gibbets\, with thumbscrews and racks\, with hangmen and headsmen—and yet these frightful means and instrumentalities and crimes have accomplished little for the preservation of property or life. It is safe to say that governments have committed far more crimes than they have prevented. \nIs it not true that the criminal is a natural product\, and that society unconsciously produces these children of vice? Can we not safely take another step\, and say that the criminal is a victim?… \nFor my part\, I sympathize sincerely with all failures\, with the victims of society\, with those who have fallen\, with the imprisoned\, with the hopeless\, with those who have been stained by verdicts of guilty\, and with those who\, in the moment of passion have destroyed\, as with a blow\, the future of their lives. \nHow perilous\, after all\, is the state of man. It is the work of a life to build a great and splendid character. It is the work of a moment to destroy it utterly\, from turret to foundation stone. How cruel hypocrisy is! \nIs there any remedy? Can anything be done for the reformation of the criminal?  \nHe should be treated with kindness. Every right should be given him\, consistent with the safety of society. He should neither be degraded nor robbed. The State should set the highest and noblest example. The powerful should never be cruel\, and in the breast of the supreme there should be no desire for revenge. \nA man in a moment of want steals the property of another\, and he is sent to the penitentiary—first\, as it is claimed\, for the purpose of deterring others; and secondly\, of reforming him. The circumstances of each individual case are rarely inquired into. Investigation stops when the simple fact of the larceny has been ascertained. No distinctions are made except as between first and subsequent offenses. Nothing is allowed for surroundings. \nAll will admit that the industrious must be protected. In this world it is necessary to work. Labor is the foundation of all prosperity. Larceny is the enemy of industry. Society has the right to protect itself. The question is\, Has it the right to punish?—has it the right to degrade?—or should it endeavor to reform the convict? \nA man is taken to the penitentiary. He is clad in the garments of a convict. He is degraded—he loses his name—he is designated by a number. He is no longer treated as a human being—he becomes the slave of the State. Nothing is done for his improvement—nothing for his reformation. He is driven like a beast of burden; robbed of his labor; leased\, it may be\, by the State to a contractor\, who gets out of his hands\, out of his muscles\, out of his poor brain\, all the toil that he can. He is not allowed to speak with a fellow-prisoner. At night he is alone in his cell. The relations that should exist between men are destroyed. He is a convict. He is no longer worthy to associate even with his keepers. The jailer is immensely his superior\, and the man who turns the key upon him at night regards himself\, in comparison\, as a model of honesty\, of virtue and manhood. The convict is pavement on which those who watch him walk. He remains for the time of his sentence\, and when that expires he goes forth a branded man. He is given money enough to pay his fare back to the place from whence he came…. \nThe men in the penitentiaries do not work for themselves. Their labor belongs to others. They have no interest in their toil—no reason for doing the best they can—and the result is that the product of their labor is poor. This product comes in competition with the work of mechanics\, honest men\, who have families to support\, and the cry is that convict labor takes the bread from the mouths of virtuous people. \nWhy should the State take without compensation the labor of these men; and why should they\, after having been imprisoned for years\, be turned out without the means of support? Would it not be far better\, far more economical\, to pay these men for their labor\, to lay aside their earnings from day to day\, from month to month\, and from year to year—to put this money at interest\, so that when the convict is released after five years of imprisonment he will have several hundred dollars of his own—not merely money enough to pay his way back to the place from which he was sent\, but enough to make it possible for him to commence business on his own account\, enough to keep the wolf of crime from the door of his heart? \nSuppose the convict comes out with five hundred dollars. This would be to most of that class a fortune. It would form a breastwork\, a fortress\, behind which the man could fight temptation. This would give him food and raiment\, enable him to go to some other State or country where he could redeem himself. If this were done\, thousands of convicts would feel under immense obligation to the Government. They would think of the penitentiary as the place in which they were saved—in which they were redeemed—and they would feel that the verdict of guilty rescued them from the abyss of crime. Under these circumstances\, the law would appear beneficent\, and the heart of the poor convict\, instead of being filled with malice\, would overflow with gratitude. He would see the propriety of the course pursued by the Government. He would recognize and feel and experience the benefits of this course\, and the result would be good\, not only to him\, but to the nation as well. \nIf the convict worked for himself\, he would do the best he could\, and the wares produced in the penitentiaries would not cheapen the labor of other men…. \nThose who are the fiercest to destroy and hang their fellow-men for having committed crimes\, are\, for the most part\, at heart\, criminals themselves. \nAs long as nations meet on the fields of war—as long as they sustain the relations of savages to each other—as long as they put the laurel and the oak on the brows of those who kill—just so long will citizens resort to violence\, and the quarrels of individuals be settled by dagger and revolver. \nIf we are to change the conduct of men\, we must change their conditions. Extreme poverty and crime go hand in hand. Destitution multiplies temptations and destroys the finer feelings. The bodies and souls of men are apt to be clad in like garments. If the body is covered with rags\, the soul is generally in the same condition. Selfrespect is gone—the man looks down—he has neither hope nor courage. He becomes sinister—he envies the prosperous—hates the fortunate\, and despises himself. \nAs long as children are raised in the tenement and gutter\, the prisons will be full. The gulf between the rich and poor will grow wider and wider. One will depend on cunning\, the other on force. It is a great question whether those who live in luxury can afford to allow others to exist in want. The value of property depends\, not on the prosperity of the few\, but on the prosperity of a very large majority. Life and property must be secure\, or that subtle thing called “value” takes its leave. The poverty of the many is a perpetual menace. If we expect a prosperous and peaceful country\, the citizens must have homes. The more homes\, the more patriots\, the more virtue\, and the more security for all that gives worth to life…. \nThe home\, after all\, is the unit of civilization\, of good government; and to secure homes for a great majority of our citizens\, would be to lay the foundation of our Government deeper and broader and stronger than that of any nation that has existed among men…. \nOf one thing we may be assured—and that is\, that criminals will never be reformed by being robbed\, humiliated and degraded. \nIgnorance\, filth\, and poverty are the missionaries of crime. As long as dishonorable success outranks honest effort—as long as society bows and cringes before the great thieves\, there will be little ones enough to fill the jails. \nAll the penalties\, all the punishments\, are inflicted under a belief that man can do right under all circumstances—that his conduct is absolutely under his control\, and that his will is a pilot that can\, in spite of winds and tides\, reach any port desired. All this is\, in my judgment\, a mistake. It is a denial of the integrity of nature. It is based upon the supernatural and miraculous\, and as long as this mistake remains the corner-stone of criminal jurisprudence\, reformation will be impossible. \nWe must take into consideration the nature of man—the facts of mind—the power of temptation—the limitations of the intellect—the force of habit—the result of heredity—the power of passion—the domination of want—the diseases of the brain—the tyranny of appetite—the cruelty of conditions—the results of association—the effects of poverty and wealth\, of helplessness and power. \nUntil these subtle things are understood—until we know that man\, in spite of all\, can certainly pursue the highway of the right\, society should not impoverish and degrade\, should not chain and kill those who\, after all\, may be the helpless victims of unknown causes that are deaf and blind…. \nWe do not know. Our ignorance should make us hesitate. Our weakness should make us merciful. \n—Robert G. Ingersoll\, Address delivered before the State Bar Association at Albany\, N. Y.\,  \nJanuary 1\, 1890 \n* \nIngersoll’s talk reminds me of these words of the Buddha: \n  \nIn this world \nHate never yet dispelled hate. \nOnly love dispels hate. \nThis is the law\, \nAncient and inexhaustible. \n* \nFor the full speech\, and all the writings and speeches of Ingersoll\, click this link: \n  \nhttps://www.gutenberg.org/files/38813/38813-h/38813-h.htm#Klink0005 \n  \n—Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-newsletter-5-7-5-13/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200514
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20200521
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200515T033211Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T030013Z
UID:839-1589414400-1590019199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love & happiness newsletter  5/14/20
DESCRIPTION:THE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love & happiness \n  \nMay 14\, 2020 \n  \nA human being is part of the whole called by us “universe\,” a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself\, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest—a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. \nThis delusion is a kind of prison for us\, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. \nOur task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. \n—Albert Einstein \n* \nFather Gregory Boyle is the former pastor of Dolores Mission Church in Los Angeles. In 1992\, he founded Homeboy Industries\, which is is the largest and most successful gang rehabilitation and re-entry program in the world. \nhttps://homeboyindustries.org/our-story/father-greg/ \nHe is the author of the Tattoos on the Heart and is featured in the documentary film “G-Dog.” In a TED talk he gave in 2012\, he uses a similar image to Albert Einstein’s “circle of compassion.” In the context of this talk he is not talking about “all living creatures\,” but about “the easily despised.”  Here’s an excerpt from that talk: \n  \nWhat we all want to create and form is a community of kinship such that God\, in fact\, might recognize it. I suspect that Mother Teresa diagnosed the world’s ills correctly when she suggested that the problem in the world is that we’ve just forgotten that we belong to each other. So\, how do we stand against forgetting that? How do we create and imagine a circle of compassion\, and then imagine nobody standing outside that circle? And to that end\, what we hope to do—all of us\, I think—is to inch our way out to the margins\, so that we can stand with the poor and the powerless and the voiceless. That we can stand with those whose dignity has been denied\, with those whose burdens are more than they can bear. Occasionally\, you get very fortunate and blessed to be able to stand with the easily despised and the readily left out. With the demonized\, so that the demonizing will stop. And with the disposable\, so that the day will come when we stop throwing people away. I suspect that if kinship was our goal we would no longer be promoting justice\, we would\, in fact\, be celebrating it. For: no kinship\, no justice. No kinship\, no peace. \n—from Gregory Boyle’s TED talk on Compassion and Kinship \n* \nI don’t know how many times I’ve listened to this 20 minute talk. It makes me cry every time. Here’s a link: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipR0kWt1Fkc&t=208s \n  \n* \nBelow is a poem by Thich Nhat Hanh which I read regularly to remind me who I am. It’s followed by his story of how he came to write the poem. Its content is not unrelated to what Albert Einstein says in the quote that opens this newsletter. \n  \nPlease Call Me By My True Names \n  \nDo not say that I’ll depart tomorrow— \neven today I am still arriving. \nLook deeply: every second I am arriving \nto be a bud on a Spring branch\, \nto be a tiny bird\, with still-fragile wings\, \nlearning to sing in my new nest\, \nto be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower\, \nto be a jewel hiding itself in a stone. \nI still arrive\, in order to laugh and to cry\, \nto fear and to hope\, \nthe rhythm of my heart is the birth and death \nof all that are alive. \nI am the mayfly metamorphosing \non the surface of the river\, \nand I am the bird which\, when Spring comes\, \narrives in time to eat the mayfly. \nI am the frog swimming happily \nin the clear water of a pond\, \nand I am the grass-snake \nthat silently feeds itself on the frog. \nI am the child in Uganda\, all skin and bones\, \nmy legs as thin as bamboo sticks. \nAnd I am the arms merchant\, \nselling deadly weapons to Uganda. \nI am the twelve-year-old girl\, \nrefugee on a small boat\, \nwho throws herself into the ocean \nafter being raped by a sea pirate. \nAnd I am the pirate\, \nmy heart not yet capable \nof seeing and loving. \nI am a member of the politburo\, \nwith plenty of power in my hands. \nAnd I am the man who has to pay his \n“debt of blood” to my people \ndying slowly in a forced labor camp. \nMy joy is like Spring\, so warm \nit makes flowers bloom all over the Earth. \nMy pain is like a river of tears\, \nso vast it fills the four oceans. \nPlease call me by my true names\, \nso I can hear all my cries and laughter at once\, \nso I can see that my joy and pain are one. \nPlease call me by my true names\, \nso I can wake up \nand so the door of my heart can be left open\, \nthe door of compassion. \n* \nAfter the Vietnam War\, many people wrote to us in Plum Village. We received hundreds of letters each week from the refugee camps in Singapore\, Malaysia\, Indonesia\, Thailand\, and the Philippines\, hundreds each week. It was very painful to read them\, but we had to be in contact. We tried our best to help\, but the suffering was enormous\, and sometimes we were discouraged. It is said that half the boat people fleeing Vietnam died in the ocean; only half arrived at the shores of Southeast Asia. \nThere are many young girls\, boat people\, who were raped by sea pirates. Even though the United Nations and many countries tried to help the government of Thailand prevent that kind of piracy\, sea pirates continued to inflict much suffering on the refugees. One day\, we received a letter telling us about a young girl on a small boat who was raped by a Thai pirate. \nShe was only twelve\, and she jumped into the ocean and drowned herself. \nWhen you first learn of something like that\, you get angry at the pirate. You naturally take the side of the girl. As you look more deeply you will see it differently. If you take the side of the little girl\, then it is easy. You only have to take a gun and shoot the pirate. But we can’t do that. In my meditation\, I saw that if I had been born in the village of the pirate and raised in the same conditions as he was\, I would now be the pirate. There is a great likelihood that I would become a pirate. I can’t condemn myself so easily. In my meditation\, I saw that many babies are born along the Gulf of Siam\, hundreds every day\, and if we educators\, social workers\, politicians\, and others do not do something about the situation\, in twenty-five years a number of them will become sea pirates. That is certain. If you or I were born today in those fishing villages\, we might become sea pirates in twenty-five years. If you take a gun and shoot the pirate\, you shoot all of us\, because all of us are to some extent responsible for this state of affairs. \nAfter a long meditation\, I wrote this poem. In it\, there are three people: the twelve-year-old girl\, the pirate\, and me. Can we look at each other and recognize ourselves in each other? The title of the poem is “Please Call Me by My True Names\,” because I have so many names. When I hear one of the of these names\, I have to say\, “Yes.” \n—Thich Nhat Hanh \n* \nAnd one more poem: \n  \nA Little Stone in the Middle of the Road\, in Florida \n  \nMy son as a child saying \nGod \nis anything\, even a little stone in the middle of the road\, in Florida \nYesterday \nNancy\, my friend\, after long illness: \nYou know what can lift me up\, take me right out of despair? \nNo\, what? \nAnything. \n  \n—Muriel Rukeyser
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-newsletter-5-14-20-5-20-20/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200521
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20200528
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200521T172314Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T030351Z
UID:846-1590019200-1590623999@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love & happiness  5/21/20
DESCRIPTION:THE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love & happiness \n  \nMay 21\, 2020 \n  \nThe Subject Tonight is Love \nThe subject tonight is Love \nAnd for tomorrow night as well\, \nAs a matter of fact \nI know of no better topic \nFor us to discuss \nUntil we all \nDie! \n  \n                                   —Hafiz\, version by Daniel Ladinsky \n* \nI wrote this essay last Fall: \n  \nThe Noble Ninefold Path \n  \n“If you have tears\, prepare to shed them now\,” he said. We did and we did. The actor who Marc Antony is 34 years old. He has spent the last 17 of those years in prison\, which is where Nancy and I were watching this production of Julius Caesar. After the performance\, the actors talked to the audience about how much they love each other\, and tried to express how much that means to them “in a place like this.” \nI didn’t direct this production\, but in 2008 I directed a production of Hamlet at Two Rivers prison in Umatilla\, Oregon\, and have directed a number of plays in prison since then—mostly by William Shakespeare. For thirteen years I went to prison more-or-less every week and facilitated meaning-of-life dialogues. After doing this for a number of months\, one day I mentioned the word “love.” It’s a word you are not supposed to say in prison. It is taboo outside of prison as well. But that’s another story. \nInviting men in prison to talk about love had a strange effect. We all began to love each other. Over the years this love deepened to the point where we could all feel it. It was palpable.  \nI’m not the first person to notice this\, but I’ve come to understand in a deep way that everyone needs to love and be loved. Like a puppy at the Humane Society\, we are all waiting for someone to take us home. \nWhat the men in prison taught me about living in love got me to thinking about how in philosophical traditions and in many spiritual traditions knowing is privileged over loving. I looked again at the noble eightfold path and it wasn’t there. There was no mention of love! \nI’m not a Buddhist and certainly not a scholar of Buddhism\, but I realized something had to be done about this and so\, with an utter lack of humility\, I would like to suggest a revision to one of the Buddha’s most fundamental teachings and propose to all and sundry the adoption of: \nThe Noble Ninefold Path \nright understanding \nright thinking \nright speech \nright action \nright living \nright effort \nright mindfulness \nright meditation \nright loving \nThis may sound like a joke\, but it’s not. I’m not suggesting that all the books on Buddhism be revised. What I’m suggesting is that if you use the noble eightfold path as a guide to your practice you could add one more thing to the list. And that it would be helpful to do so. It’s not a trivial addition.  \nOne could argue that the Mahayana tradition has already done something like this with the bodhisattva ideal of compassion for all beings. Fair enough. Many modern Buddhist teachers—I’m thinking at the moment of Thich Nhat Hanh\, Pema Chödrön and Jack Kornfield—put a big emphasis on love. This idea of adding one more item to the eightfold path is done\, I hope\, in that same spirit. \nPeace\, love and happiness—the hippie virtues—all tend to be scoffed at by “smart people”—maybe because these are arts which are not taught in school. \nOne meaning of nirvana is a kind of floating away from this world of cares—the world of samsara. But in later Buddhism\, the duality is abolished: samsara and nirvana are not two. \nFor “intellectuals” and intellectual traditions the head is more important than the heart. This is not surprising. That’s kind of what “intellectual” means. But it seems to me that being a whole human being is preferable to performing the role of Mr. Know-It-All. Love and understanding need each other. \nHead without heart leads to tragedy. In my lifetime\, a bunch of geniuses had all kinds of reasons why it was a good idea to drop jellied gasoline on families planting rice in paddies. Had they listened to their hearts\, the whole thing could never have happened. \nWhat is “right loving”? I don’t know. Like all the other “rights” of the noble ninefold path\, you do your best to figure it out as you go along. Love\, of course\, includes compassion. But love is much more than that. I love to see a beautiful flower. I don’t feel compassion for it. I love it because it’s beautiful. I love it without even knowing why I love it. Thich Nhat Hanh—that sweet man!—reminds us that we are all flowers. \nMy own aspiration is to love the heck out of everyone and every thing. “Unconditional love” means loving no matter what and for no reason. \nIn the Bible it says: “Who loves not\, knows not God; for God is Love.” \nWilliam Blake says: \nLove to faults is always blind\, \nAlways is to joy inclin’d\, \nLawless\, wing’d & unconfin’d\, \nAnd breaks all chains from every mind. \nA good way to end this little essay might be with the Meta Prayer: \nMay all beings be happy! \nMay we be peaceful and at ease! \nMay we be well in body and mind! \nMay we live in love! \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nI shared “The Noble Ninefold Path” with a few people. I sent a copy to Shad Alexander\, who lives at Two Rivers prison. He sent this reply\, which I am sharing with his permission: \n  \nRegarding the “Ninefold Path\,” (if I may indulge my inner nerd)… Love is not explicitly stated in the bulletpoint framework of the Eightfold Path because it is implicitly enmeshed throughout the entire path structure\, and each individual path factor. The whole thing is about love. Buddha challenged us to rise above romantic love\, or sexual love\, or selfishly focused love\, as it is commonly expressed (both then and now). He separated out the main characteristics of selfless love into qualities that each of us can strive to embody. Mettā is translated as “unconditional love\,” or “universal love\,” or “loving-kindness\,” but a better translation involves a flavor of wishing goodwill for all others. Karunā is usually translated as “compassion\,” but again the English falls flat. Karuna is the inspiration to take some action\, even a trivial or symbolic action\, to ease the suffering of others. If you see a homeless person panhandling\, metta is the wish that the person’s life conditions will improve\, karuna is giving the person a peanutbutter and jelly sandwich. Neither action will solve homelessness or hunger\, but together they are “drops in the bucket” which may someday result in a shift our culture and society at large. Muditā is translated as “vicarious joy\,” or perhaps the opposite of jealousy—this is the quality of feeling glad for someone else’s success. This is the cooperative and non-competitive quality of love. Upekkhā means equanimity or non-reactivity. As regards to love\, this is the unconditional aspect of love. (In a broader use of the term\, upekkhā is the Holy Grail of the entire practice\, not reacting with attachment to the ups and downs of life.) All four of these qualities together are Buddhist concept of “love.” Buddha called these “God’s Temple” or “Living Like God.”* (A quick side note: Buddha refused to acknowledge if he believed in God as a deity or not. But he taught his followers that they could become “like God” through the experience of love.) \nThe four qualities of love are both tools that can be used to achieve the final goal of liberation\, and they are side-effects of having achieved the final goal. Using Metta as an example: I still harbor a lot criticism towards others\, so my instructions are to pretend like I have a lot of metta towards others. If I pretend long enough\, it inevitably sinks in. (Buddha was the original person to coin the idea of “Fake it until you make it.”) On the other end of the spectrum\, enlightened meditation masters assure me that in advanced stages of meditation\, love for all beings is a natural expression from the realization that all living things are interconnected and interdependent. \nBringing this all back to the claim that the entire Eightfold path is about love… The Eightfold path begins and ends with “Right Understanding.” A beginner’s understanding is: “All living beings are terrified of punishment\, all fear death. Comparing oneself to others\, one should neither kill nor cause to kill. All living beings love life. Comparing oneself to others\, one should neither kill nor cause to kill.” (Dhammapada.) That novice understanding leads a person to train their mind towards thoughts of non-harm and cooperation (love); to train their speech towards words that promote love; to act with love; to choose a livelihood that does not harm others (love); to make earnest efforts to free themselves from harmful thoughts/actions and to engage in loving thoughts and actions. These efforts result in increasing mindfulness\, a living embodied awareness of of “Am I living with love?” or “Am I living absent of love?” Meditation is a tool to help us open up to the fullest potential of love\, but once that fullest potential is achieved\, meditation from a place of pure love tips the scales towards a more ultimate Right Understanding: all beings are interconnected and interdependent. To love myself is to love all others. \nOr so I have been told… \n(The word “sammā\,” we translate as “right\, proper\, perfect\,” as in Right Speech\, Right Thoughts\, etc. But what is meant by “right?” Samma has a nuance of “the absence of harmfulness” or the presence of metta/karuna/mudita/upekkha. So maybe a better translation would be “understanding with love\,” “thought with love\,” “speech with love\,” etc.) \n* The term is “Brahma-vihāra\,” God-Abiding. \n—Shad Alexander \n* \n  \nA bonus for people who get the email version of this newsletter—links to videos of two contemporary bodhisattvas\, Alokananda Roy and Fritzi Horstman: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OspzzO7gAiw&t=455s \n  \n  \n \n  \n  \n  \nhttps://vimeo.com/398088783?fbclid=IwAR3wrd-7igOwlGZo_R5jSI5IERo54Dld59nWAnXMSbTB11H8AEYK-RzRZRE \n  \nMay we live in love. \n—Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-5-21-20-5-27-20/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20200528
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20200604
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200528T113524Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20220719T043219Z
UID:880-1590624000-1591228799@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love & happiness 5/28/20
DESCRIPTION:painting by Charles Erickson \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love & happiness \nMay 28\, 2020 \n  \nIn 1681 William Penn\, an English Quaker\, was granted territory in North America by King Charles II. The land was named Pennsylvania. Penn planned to build the city of Philadelphia\, which means “brotherly love.” Before coming to America\, on August 18\, 1681\, he wrote this letter to the Native American chiefs: \n  \nMY FRIENDS\, There is a Great God and Power\, that hath made the world and all things therein\, to whom you and I and all people owe their being and well-being; and to whom you and I must one day give an account for all that we do in the world. This Great God hath written his Law in our hearts\, by which we are taught and commanded to love and help\, and do good to one another\, and not to do harm and mischief unto one another. Now this Great God hath been pleased to make me concerned in your part of the world\, and the king of the country where I live hath given me a great province therein; but I desire to enjoy it with your love and consent\, that we may always live together as neighbors and friends; else what would the Great God do to us? who hath made us not to devour and destroy one another\, but to live soberly and kindly together in the world. Now I would have you well observe that I am very sensible of the unkindness and injustice that hath been too much exercised towards you by the people of these parts of the world\, who have sought themselves\, and to make great advantages by you\, rather than to be examples of justice and goodness unto you\, which I hear hath been matter of trouble unto you\, and caused great grudgings and animosities\, sometimes to the shedding of blood\, which hath made the Great God angry. But I am not such a man\, as is well known in my own country. I have great love and regard towards you\, and I desire to win and gain your love and friendship by a kind\, just\, and peaceable life\, and the people I send are of the same mind\, and shall in all things behave themselves accordingly; and if in any thing any shall offend you or your people\, you shall have a full and speedy satisfaction for the same\, by an equal number of just men on both sides\, that by no means you may have just occasion of being offended against them. \n—William Penn (1644-1718) \n* \nAnother Seventeenth Century Englishman had this to say: \n  \n28 \nYour enjoyment of the world is never right\, till every morning you awake in Heaven; see yourself in your Father’s Palace; and look upon the skies\, the earth\, and the air as Celestial Joys: having such a reverend esteem of all\, as if you were among the Angels. The bride of a monarch\, in her husband’s chamber\, hath no such causes of delight as you.  \n  \n29 \nYou never enjoy the world aright\, till the Sea itself floweth in your veins\, till you are clothed with the heavens\, and crowned with the stars: and perceive yourself to be the sole heir of the whole world\, and more than so\, because men are in it who are every one sole heirs as well as you. Till you can sing and rejoice and delight in God\, as misers do in gold\, and Kings in sceptres\, you never enjoy the world.  \n  \n30 \nTill your spirit filleth the whole world\, and the stars are your jewels; till you are as familiar with the ways of God in all Ages as with your walk and table: till you are intimately acquainted with that shady nothing out of which the world was made: till you love men so as to desire their happiness\, with a thirst equal to the zeal of your own; till you delight in God for being good to all: you never enjoy the world. Till you more feel it than your private estate\, and are more present in the hemisphere\, considering the glories and the beauties there\, than in your own house: Till you remember how lately you were made\, and how wonderful it was when you came into it: and more rejoice in the palace of your glory\, than if it had been made to-day morning.  \n  \n31 \nYet further\, you never enjoyed the world aright\, till you so love the beauty of enjoying it\, that you are covetous and earnest to persuade others to enjoy it. And so perfectly hate the abominable corruption of men in despising it\, that you had rather suffer the flames of Hell than willingly be guilty of their error. There is so much blindness and ingratitude and damned folly in it. The world is a mirror of infinite beauty\, yet no man sees it. It is a Temple of Majesty\, yet no man regards it. It is a region of Light and Peace\, did not men disquiet it. It is the Paradise of God. \n  \n—Thomas Traherne (1636-1674) from Centuries of Meditations\, First Century\, also quoted by Aldous Huxley in The Perennial Philosophy\, pp. 67-68 \n* \nThis was written more recently: \n  \nKindness \n  \nBefore you know what kindness really is \nyou must lose things\, \nfeel the future dissolve in a moment \nlike salt in a weakened broth. \nWhat you held in your hand\, \nwhat you counted and carefully saved\, \nall this must go so you know \nhow desolate the landscape can be \nbetween the regions of kindness. \nHow you ride and ride \nthinking the bus will never stop\, \nthe passengers eating maize and chicken \nwill stare out the window forever. \nBefore you learn the tender gravity of kindness \nyou must travel where the Indian in a white poncho \nlies dead by the side of the road. \nYou must see how this could be you\, \nhow he too was someone \nwho journeyed through the night with plans \nand the simple breath that kept him alive. \nBefore you know kindness as the deepest thing inside\, \nyou must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.  \nYou must wake up with sorrow. \nYou must speak to it till your voice \ncatches the thread of all sorrows \nand you see the size of the cloth. \nThen it is only kindness that makes sense anymore\, \nonly kindness that ties your shoes \nand sends you out into the day to gaze at bread\, \nonly kindness that raises its head \nfrom the crowd of the world to say \nIt is I you have been looking for\, \nand then goes with you everywhere \nlike a shadow or a friend.    \n  \n—- Naomi Shihab Nye \n* \nHer poem reminded me of this line from Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself”: \n  \nWhoever walks a furlong without sympathy\, walks to his own funeral dressed in his shroud. \n  \nIt’s a good line\, but he’s just getting warmed up: \n  \nAnd I or you pocketless of a dime may purchase the pick of the earth\, \nAnd to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the learning of all times\, \nAnd there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero\, \nAnd there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheeled universe\, \nAnd I say to any man or woman\, Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes…. \n  \nI hear and behold God in every object\, yet understand God not in the least…. \n  \nWhy should I wish to see God better than this day? \nI see something of God each hour of the twenty-four\, and each moment then\, \nIn the faces of men and women I see God\, and in my own face in the glass\, \nI find letters from God dropt in the street\, and every one is signed by God’s name\, \nAnd I leave them where they are\, for I know that wheresoe’er I go\, \nOthers will punctually come for ever and ever. \n* \n  \nWalt’s 201st birthday is this Sunday\, May 31st. We’re going to have a group reading of “Song of Myself” at 3 pm (West Coast Time). To enjoy this exhilarating event\, go to the Zoom website and click on “Join a Meeting.” The meeting ID number is 892-8123-9555. Then\, the password is 623246. I hope to see you there! \n—Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-newsletter-5-28-6-3-2020/
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DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20200531T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20200531T170000
DTSTAMP:20260503T131227
CREATED:20200526T184434Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20200603T194117Z
UID:855-1590937200-1590944400@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Song of Myself on Zoom!!!
DESCRIPTION:  \nWe had a very successful group reading of “Song of Myself” to celebrate Walt Whitman’s 201st Birthday on Sunday\, May 31st\, at 3 pm on Zoom.  \n  \nWe recorded it\, but haven’t uploaded it to YouTube yet. If you want to see it\, contact us through this website\, or email me if you know my email address. \n  \npeace & love  \nJohnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/celebrate-walts-201st-birthday-with-song-of-myself-on-zoom/
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