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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
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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/
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DTSTAMP:20260503T112421
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/
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DTSTAMP:20260503T112421
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/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201015
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201022
DTSTAMP:20260503T112421
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:20201015
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201115
DTSTAMP:20260503T112421
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/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201022
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201029
DTSTAMP:20260503T112421
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/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20201029
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20201105
DTSTAMP:20260503T112421
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/
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