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SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 1/15/21
DESCRIPTION:Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nJanuary 15\, 2020 \n  \nWelcome to our fifth meditation and mindfulness dialogue! The numbers below refer to passages from the book Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh. (JS) \n* \n  \nWITHOUT \n  \nPicture nothing. \n  \nNothing is pictured. \n  \nAnd then everything food sex stoplight \nyoga mat grocery bag little gnat— \n  \nas through a valve \nin the middle of that pictured \nnothing: \n  \nit all comes rushing \nlike sparks \njetting in the void. \n  \nThe ocean goes back in the bottle \nonly when you ignore it. \n  \nI flit from station to station\, \nknowing nothing of meditation. \n  \nAnd I seek out mute buttons \nas if there are more than one\, \nas if it is something that exists \n  \nwithout. \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nMr. Barnes\, in the December issue you said you wrote the paper (letter) six times over\, but know\, more times than not\, the first writing is always the best\, since when re-written over and over you can lose the essence of your writing. Don’t overthink it. The first edition was your rawest\, which tends to be most true and to the heart. I find that in journaling\, when I go back to read previous entries\, I think I should have said it this way or that\, but in reality it is its most true and rawest\, honest to who you are. \n  \nI also would give you this thought in regards to what you wrote about how we all were born upon a set of scales that started to tip in one direction or the other since our birth. I understand your concept of the scale relating to one side being good\, while the other is bad. But… Have you considered that there is no scale? In reading #312 None Other Than Enlightenment in Your True Home it seemed to me that the basic premise is that through enlightenment there is no scale. You can see the truth in all things\, that truth being the good and bad in all things. Good and bad are one thing: the flower in the garbage and the garbage in the flower. \n  \nMr. Gilbert\, so many things this year have showed us that society is in dire need of a change\, and that we all need a little more enlightenment. There is a lot of me me me\, hate\, blame for this or that\, or: since you don’t believe what I believe I hate you. I briefly touched on this in November’s issue of M & M\, but I will write a little more. On 11/2/20 I read #346 What Separates Us in our book Your True Home. In the message\, it talks about labels. Putting labels on people is hurtful and destructive. Labels are what’s currently wrong in society. It’s us vs. them. Labels are something that hurts every one of us. Society uses labels  to dehumanize\, to separate us into groups\, and if we can eliminate labels there can be peace in the world. We are all people on this planet\, one society\, one human race\, and until we get that our society will not be able to heal. Be the one! On society\, one human race\, one world together. \n  \nWhat I want to write about for myself is about something that really affected me to the point of tears forming when I started journaling. I debated even writing this in the newsletter because of how it affected me and how personal it is to me\, but after writing to my friend Jacob Green about what happened\, I started to feel empowered to include what happened for everyone in the newsletter. On 12/2/20 I read #316 The Smile of Nonfear in Your True Home. This passage for some reason stirred something inside me. It’s the word “afflictions” that woke this thought\, but really the whole bottom half spoke to me. Afflictions have been something I have been struggling with for a large part of my prison sentence. I’ve seen that what I had done to land me in prison these 18 years was an affliction. I concentrated on that “perceived” affliction for those first years\, trying to correct where I went wrong. It took many many years to find my path to better and correct who I am\, and to this point I\, in some ways\, didn’t know how I got there\, or where I am today. But now\, in reading #316\, I may have a little more of an idea. I recognized early on that a big part of what I did was founded on a deluded mind and thought pattern that needed correcting if I was to live a life outside these fences. If I couldn’t succeed in correcting my deluded mind\, thought pattern and affliction\, I didn’t deserve a life outside the fence\, or maybe even a life at all. What I saw in myself was only a deluded mind and thoughts\, and in doing so I could only see the afflictions within myself.  \n  \nSomehow\, over the years\, a slow chip away happened. I found my true mind\, and in doing so I no longer only saw my afflictions\, but saw much more. Call it enlightenment. I no longer concentrated on my deluded mind or thoughts\, which in turn\, I suppose\, allowed me to truly heal my affliction that got me here to prison. I am still not perfect by far\, none of us are\, but I truly believe I have healed enough now to start my next chapter in life. A life outside these fences. A life as me and who I am. A life that will allow me to continue to heal and better who I am\, the person I know I am and want to be. \n  \nAbove is what I wrote in my journal. I know that many guys in prison struggle with their afflictions that caused and/or contributed to their incarceration. Some feel they don’t deserve forgiveness\, and forgiveness from those you hurt may never come\, but forgiveness of yourself is possible. It happens with internal healing and the enlightenment that you don’t need to run away from your afflictions\, because with a true mind the afflictions are no longer there. And without afflictions there is only enlightenment; through enlightenment you will see much more within yourself. \n  \nThanks for listening. May peace\, love\, harmony and mindfulness be with you all. \n  \n—Joshua Underhill \n* \n  \nA meditative mind is silent. It is not the silence which thought can conceive of; it is not the silence of a still evening; it is the silence when thought—with all its images\, its words and perceptions—has entirely ceased. This meditative mind is the religious mind—the religion that is not touched by the church\, the temple or by chants. \n  \nThe religious mind is the explosion of love. It is this love that knows no separation. To it\, far is near. It is not the one or the many\, but rather the state of love in which all division ceases. Like beauty\, it is not of the measure of words. From this silence alone the meditative mind acts. \n  \nfrom Meditations by J. Krishnamurti \n* \n  \n(Here are a few of Michel Deforge’s many meditations from December:) \n  \nDecember 2  #47  The Mind of Enlightenment \n  \nIt is amazing what a few days of not mindfully breathing\, or purpose (practicing) can do to my mental state—more mercurial and more affected by influences. (grrr) It’s my own doing. I can’t blame anyone. Maybe…I can just relax\, breathe; and let it be what it is…? (Breathing…) How funny. Today is about bodhichitta and a “goal” of practice—to\, ultimately\, be able to aid/relieve the suffering of others. Wow! It’s funny because I see myself\, right now\, being very deep in my own mud/suffering. Getting better\, or anything positive\, is so far from my experience of now. And\, forget about being of help or benefit …Yet\, even now\, I may learn\, and from my learning\, another may derive a benefit. If I waste my “now” on later—how/if I’ll be anything—then I’ll miss my lesson on how perfect today’s “mud”-bath really is. (I don’t know why I’m “in” mud today. It’s a metaphor for suffering\, being human—made of the same mud as all other humans.) Even when I don’t “like” my now\, it really is perfect. Now\, where’s my snorkel? I think I lost a shoe! Oh well. It’s perfectly placed for now. (Better?) (Yes!) \n  \nDecember 3  #48  Enjoy a Moment of Nothing \n  \n(Taking a moment…) This is the essence of Buddhism\, for me. To sit and enjoy doing “nothing.” But\, it’s not nothing—(I’m channeling my inner Pooh Bear)—it’s a very wonderful something. It’s sitting. It’s being. It’s breathing. It’s often mind wandering and coming back; then wandering off again. It’s learning to enjoy me\, now\, in this moment. Breathing and existing (being) in a mindful moment/experience of each now\, as the moments pass. Enjoying nothing can allow all the moments of something a little more presence and mindful enjoyability\, if I want. \n  \nDecember 7  #49  What is a Leaf? \n  \nThây points out how everything\, including me and you\, is made from other things. A leaf is composed of so many things\, and so many things were critical to the growth of a particular leaf. Life is interdependent. When some say\, “We’re all in this together\,” I believe this is a deeper meaning behind a rallying cry for some cause. We do all exist in the same world. We share the same air\, the same soil\, the same clouds\, rain\, etc. We’re all made of the same elements—reduced to base elements\, carbon\, nitrogen\, oxygen\, etc. With so much sameness\, how can I accept you as different from me? I do… \n  \nThis is where I see the ego come in. Something tells me that I am special\, unique\, and unlike everyone and everything else; that there’s no connection whatsoever to anything or anyone else. Yet\, if I take away all the parts of me (good or bad) that come from someone else or something else\, “I” cease to exist entirely. Without you\, there is no me: both in the realm of duality and\, also\, in the realm of inter-dependence. “I” also can’t continue to exist (survive) without “you.” Too often I attempt to behave as if I am all that is. I think that it is only when I embrace otherness (or others) that I truly begin to live. This is not easy. It requires compassion for weaknesses\, mine too. It requires seeing “other” as same—not different or separate from. \n  \nHere on paper it is so easy to lay out\, contemplate and visualize. In the realm of action/reaction (reality?)—ego\, fear\, duality\, separateness—disconnect happens. I become guarded from you\, forgetting how much I need each and every other “you” out there\, so “I” can survive too. That’s my journey: finding my way to compassion\, vulnerability and interdependence (not co-dependence…). \n  \nDecember 10  #51  Subtle Gestures \n  \nI find myself slowing down while reading and snacking—mindlessly. Yet\, as I read\, and felt my breath I un-deliberately (un-intentionally) slowed down and savored my moments… The sensations aren’t profound\, but noticing them seems slightly so. That’s kinda neat; catching all the subtleties\, flavor\, muscles working\, crunching\, tasting\, breathing\, hearing…and then…like that *! (snap) It’s all over. I often find that life’s “best” moments come from those subtle gestures\, and they’re often done without guile or deliberateness—they have intent of kindness\, but it is a life state not as much as an effort to set out to do a kind act. Words fail to describe ideas fully\, the thought carries on all the same. \n  \nDecember 16  #54  Rites of Life \n  \n….I have experienced a few of those key moments—ones where flow happened\, or where I was perfectly attuned (although I do not recall them\, due to lacking focused awareness.) I imagine that by having awareness I could experience the moments completely as they exist in time—maybe learn a lesson of life from the moment\, create a deep etched memory\, or simply exist in the perfection of that moment\, watching as it passes to the next perfect moment—maybe even departing from “time.” \n  \nIs life a string of moments haphazardly strung together with no rhyme or reasoning? Can there be more than that\, accessed by simply being mindful and aware? I don’t think it needs to be a BIG production\, or some fantastic event(s). I like the idea of simple awareness\, exercised through each moment—not just on the cushion…. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \n#314  Melt the Ice of Knowledge \n  \nOften in my experience of living in prison there have been “rules” or “discriminating views” on this or that person. There is an atmospheric influence that enforces racial segregation and fuels hate amongst others. It’s follow the rules\, or the road. (As of late\, the Road is wide open and lovely. Join me?) Harboring one train of thought as truth\, and not having an open heart and open mind\, blurs the hidden beauty of truth in others—obstructed by societal upbringings\, social media\, and other major influences. Abandonment of views\, or opinions\, is an ice pick of relief\, chipping away the cold ice of hate\, oppression\, single-mindedness\, and when you can finally free yourself from the icy blur of lies and deceit\, you will find that what you thought was truth was an obstacle holding you from seeing the beauty in the soul of everyone/everything. Having an open heart\, open mind\, and leaving the views you’ve been taught\, you will learn so much\, and be able to see life\, and live life\, with deeper meaning\, and understanding. \n  \nI send all the Open Road/M & M family and the world Peace Love Happiness and Good Vibes. You all are beautiful and deserve the most! \n  \nTill next time \n  \nJake Green \n* \n  \nPhone Call to Ancient Times  \n  \nOut on the lawn\, under the aspen tree \nwhere I can get good cell reception\,  \nI took a call from Johnny\, who began  \ntelling about a friend in prison\, in \nthe hole again for some infraction\, \nand I stood so still\, listening\, from \nthe blackberry thicket a rabbit \ncrept under the fence to nibble grass \nat my feet\, a lolloping fist of fur  \nwith whiskers and little ears\, with  \nan inquisitive tremble\, amiable ghost  \nfrom the lost world we shared  \nwhen there was enough for all. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nI have some thoughts about the “perfect moments” Michel wrote about in his meditations on December 14th and 16th. He mentioned slowing down. I have found that when I’m preparing a meal\, if\, instead of doing it fast\, I slow down\, I get great pleasure from cutting the vegetables. This is true for eating the meal\, doing the dishes—for any activity\, even walking across the room. \n  \nJoseph Campbell and many others say that eternity is not a long time\, it’s timelessness. We have all experienced countless perfect moments. We don’t remember most of them because they leave no trace. It’s not a problem. We don’t need to remember them. The next one is coming soon. Maybe this is it. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \n#361: Offering Flowers to the Buddha \n  \nThis is about impermanence and how we should and should not view it. Impermanence is constant. Often viewed as negative\, as decay and death\, as loss\, and T N Hanh tells us we should enjoy things in their present moment instead of bemoaning their impermanence. \n  \nAgreed. But I take it a step further. Impermanence is death in one sense\, but also seeds of life in another. Let’s look at nature\, my favorite example for everything. \n  \nMost people see spring as birth\, rebirth\, life\, growth; summer as lushness\, abundance\, profusion\, light\, sun…life.  \n  \nThey tend to view fall as one of dying\, decay\, shutting down\, going dark. And winter? Ah\, the ultimate death: dark\, cold\, still…hibernation (from hibernus\, Latin for wintry. And  ‘hiver\,’ French for winter\, etc.) \n  \nBut when fall comes\, I feel most alive\, alert\, sharp\, eager\, ready to get-to-work. Nature agrees: bushy\, brilliant trees shed their leaves exposing lean\, bare\, shining\, black limbs\, looking like they’ve pushed up their sleeves to get ready to work. Their lean or muscular trunks stand sturdily in agreement. And now\, without all that busy foliage\, we have views beyond\, to the hills\, the sky. Views ahead. And what lies ahead? More life! Bare limbs\, branches\, and twigs house and host hundred of birds\, perching\, hopping about\, twittering\, swooping down to fetch seeds\, insects\, worms… Worms! What’s going on in all those fallen leaves\, anyway? Life\, in the form of worms! Millions of dark red\, wriggling creatures burrowing\, chomping\, aerating their way into and through piles of leaves. Creating mulch! And mulch = life! My garden loves that decayed\, death-like stuff. It eats it up! It brings me the biggest\, leafiest\, fattest\, brightest vegetables you can imagine.  \n  \nWhat else is happening when all the extravagance of spring and summer is gone? I’ll tell you what: Fungi\, that’s what!  \n  \nWhoa\, that creepy\, sneaky dark stuff that smells funky and looks weird? You bet!  \n  \nMushrooms\, lichens\, molds\, all sorts of fungi = Life! Look at bread\, wine\, beer\, cheese. All created with the indispensable help of fungi. (And what’s pizza without mushrooms\, anyway?) And look at penicillin and other antibiotics; ergot\, or LSD; fungi chemicals that produce statins! Life savers!  \n  \nFinally\, is winter really death-like? Is it the end of life? Well\, are we dead when we sleep each night? Of course not. A good night’s sleep is purely restorative\, and a good winter is nothing less. Can you imagine never sleeping but just going full-bore 24/7? Day in/day out\, year in/year out? You wouldn’t make it past day two or three. Seasons are nature’s parallel; fall and winter are rest and sleep\, but always with restoration and life at the core. \n  \nAnd then we die. Is that the end of it all? Not on your life! I will be cremated and my daughter knows just which mountain wildflower  meadow to scatter me in. I will be bone meal for the Avalanche lilies\, the valerian\, the paintbrush\, and they will love me for the strength and life I’ve brought to them. \n  \nSo (really) finally\, all these things produced by the ostensible death of stuff are nothing less that LIFE for the world.  \n  \n—Jude Russell (alive and well) \n* \n  \nThe Hsin Hsin Ming reminds me of the Dhammapada\, a collection of poetry that summarizes early Buddhist teachings. I find the Dhammapada to be very inspirational. \n  \nTaking ownership for my biases\, I do not understand the representation of Zen Buddhism as it appears in American culture. The Buddha gifted us with clear and concise instructions for training the mind\, often referred to as the Noble Eightfold Path. Meditation\, lifestyle changes\, and challenging our beliefs about “how the world works.” If you read the Buddha’s sermons in a “thematically progressive” order\, a very clear instruction manual emerges. Personally\, I need that. I’ve never really had a mind for philosophy or theology. But American Zen really advocates this message of “do nothing.” Don’t meditate. Don’t make lifestyle changes. Don’t challenge your beliefs\, because all beliefs are false. It is as though the Eightfold Path was completely cancelled out by Zen masters several hundreds of years ago. But I have a friend who ordained and studied at Venerable Thay’s Plum Village\, that is a very rigorous study and meditation practice. And people who went to study Chan in China also report: “study and meditation.” I visited a traditional Japanese Zen monastery in Washington\, and the monastics there lived and practiced in a very similar manner to the Ajahn Chah monasteries I am familiar with. So\, my bias\, my prejudice\, is I don’t understand American Zen. Traditional Zen uses the same meditation “manual” as my Vipassana meditation practice\, the Satipatthana Sutta\, “The Four Bases of Mindfulness.” Venerable  Thay [Thich Nhat Hanh] is an expert scholar of the Satipatthana Sutta in all of the ancient languages in which it was preserved\, and I have a lot of respect for his teaching. End of the day\, “their” practices are more similar than dissimilar to what I’m familiar with. \n  \n—Shad Alexander \n* \n  \nThank you Thich Nhat Hanh\, Johnny Stallings \nand your wonderful friends!  \n  \nI am here \nI see (or hear or touch) some thing \nI know it  \nYes (tiny smile) I am meditating \nMy knowing it \nMy seeing \nand my being here \nare somehow  \nrelated Yes (chuckle to myself) I am ok \nsomehow divisions \nare eased \ncan I “feel” \nhow you also \nare breathing \ncan I deeply  \nunderstand \nthat the  \nwater from a \ncloud \nis my relation? \nthe light and gray \ncolors from \nthat cloud \ncome all the \nway here \nluminous here \ncan these hard \nlines \nthese \nseeming forever \nwalls \nbe continually \n“eased” “understood” \n“held” like a child \nI am dissatisfied \ncrying inside like \na wailing child \nor a crazy politician \ncan I remember \nwhat I said \nabove \nI am here \nmy fear my dissatisfaction \nis here also \nbut I am holding (embracing) it \nlike my own mother \nlike my own niece \nlike my own beloved lover \nI am not \nkilling my fear my dissatisfaction \nmy crying child \nI am embracing them \nbreathing a long side \nbelly and fear \nare not unrelated \nare they? \nForever \nsmile \nlaugh (to yourself – don’t let them \nknow you are crazy) \nI can even \nstart to \nthink of your \nbreathing your \nthinking \nyour pain \nas my relation \nalthough these sentences are calming \ncan you \nsit here \nfor a few seconds \nor a short time \nwithout reading \nthese sentences \njust sit here \nwith the satisfaction \nbreathing \nthen with the dissatisfaction \nbreathing \nthe pain of the \nworld is also \nyours \nsmile you are Good \ncontinue forever \nmake up your \nown writing your own \nsong of the open \nlet it in form us and \nyou \nhow to dance our \nloving meditating  \n  \n—Alan Benditt  \n(roughly November 14\, 2020) 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-1-15-21/
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SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  1/21/21
DESCRIPTION:THE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nJanuary 21\, 2021 \n  \nMartin Luther King was born on January 15\, 1929. This year\, Martin Luther King Day is celebrated on January 18th. He believed in the power of Love to change our world. Here is one of his sermons: \n  \nLoving Your Enemies \nSo I want to turn your attention to this subject: “Loving Your Enemies.” It’s so basic to me because it is a part of my basic philosophical and theological orientation: the whole idea of love\, the whole philosophy of love. In the fifth chapter of the gospel as recorded by Saint Matthew\, we read these very arresting words flowing from the lips of our Lord and Master: “Ye have heard that it has been said\, ‘Thou shall love thy neighbor\, and hate thine enemy.’ But I say unto you\, Love your enemies\, bless them that curse you\, do good to them that hate you\, and pray for them that despitefully use you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven.” \nCertainly these are great words\, words lifted to cosmic proportions. And over the centuries\, many persons have argued that this is an extremely difficult command. Many would go so far as to say that it just isn’t possible to move out into the actual practice of this glorious command. They would go on to say that this is just additional proof that Jesus was an impractical idealist who never quite came down to earth. So the arguments abound. But far from being an impractical idealist\, Jesus has become the practical realist. The words of this text glitter in our eyes with a new urgency. Far from being the pious injunction of a utopian dreamer\, this command is an absolute necessity for the survival of our civilization. Yes\, it is love that will save our world and our civilization\, love even for enemies. \nNow let me hasten to say that Jesus was very serious when he gave this command; he wasn’t playing. He realized that it’s hard to love your enemies. He realized that it’s difficult to love those persons who seek to defeat you\, those persons who say evil things about you. He realized that it was painfully hard\, pressingly hard. But he wasn’t playing. And we cannot dismiss this passage as just another example of Oriental hyperbole\, just a sort of exaggeration to get over the point. This is a basic philosophy of all that we hear coming from the lips of our Master. Because Jesus wasn’t playing; because he was serious. We have the Christian and moral responsibility to seek to discover the meaning of these words\, and to discover how we can live out this command\, and why we should live by this command. \nNow first let us deal with this question\, which is the practical question: How do you go about loving your enemies? I think the first thing is this: In order to love your enemies\, you must begin by analyzing self. And I’m sure that seems strange to you\, that I start out telling you this morning that you love your enemies by beginning with a look at self. It seems to me that that is the first and foremost way to come to an adequate discovery to the how of this situation.  \nNow\, I’m aware of the fact that some people will not like you\, not because of something you have done to them\, but they just won’t like you. I’m quite aware of that. Some people aren’t going to like the way you walk; some people aren’t going to like the way you talk. Some people aren’t going to like you because you can do your job better than they can do theirs. Some people aren’t going to like you because other people like you\, and because you’re popular\, and because you’re well-liked\, they aren’t going to like you. Some people aren’t going to like you because your hair is a little shorter than theirs or your hair is a little longer than theirs. Some people aren’t going to like you because your skin is a little brighter than theirs; and others aren’t going to like you because your skin is a little darker than theirs. So that some people aren’t going to like you. They’re going to dislike you\, not because of something that you’ve done to them\, but because of various jealous reactions and other reactions that are so prevalent in human nature. \nBut after looking at these things and admitting these things\, we must face the fact that an individual might dislike us because of something that we’ve done deep down in the past\, some personality attribute that we possess\, something that we’ve done deep down in the past and we’ve forgotten about it; but it was that something that aroused the hate response within the individual. That is why I say\, begin with yourself. There might be something within you that arouses the tragic hate response in the other individual. \nThis is true in our international struggle. We look at the struggle\, the ideological struggle between communism on the one hand and democracy on the other\, and we see the struggle between America and Russia. Now certainly\, we can never give our allegiance to the Russian way of life\, to the communistic way of life\, because communism is based on an ethical relativism and a metaphysical materialism that no Christian can accept. When we look at the methods of communism\, a philosophy where somehow the end justifies the means\, we cannot accept that because we believe as Christians that the end is pre-existent in the means. But in spite of all of the weaknesses and evils inherent in communism\, we must at the same time see the weaknesses and evils within democracy. \nDemocracy is the greatest form of government to my mind that man has ever conceived\, but the weakness is that we have never touched it. Isn’t it true that we have often taken necessities from the masses to give luxuries to the classes? Isn’t it true that we have often in our democracy trampled over individuals and races with the iron feet of oppression? Isn’t it true that through our Western powers we have perpetuated colonialism and imperialism? And all of these things must be taken under consideration as we look at Russia. We must face the fact that the rhythmic beat of the deep rumblings of discontent from Asia and Africa is at bottom a revolt against the imperialism and colonialism perpetuated by Western civilization all these many years. The success of communism in the world today is due to the failure of democracy to live up to the noble ideals and principles inherent in its system. \nAnd this is what Jesus means when he said: “How is it that you can see the mote in your brother’s eye and not see the beam in your own eye?” Or to put it in Moffatt’s translation: “How is it that you see the splinter in your brother’s eye and fail to see the plank in your own eye?”3 And this is one of the tragedies of human nature. So we begin to love our enemies and love those persons that hate us whether in collective life or individual life by looking at ourselves. \nA second thing that an individual must do in seeking to love his enemy is to discover the element of good in his enemy\, and every time you begin to hate that person and think of hating that person\, realize that there is some good there and look at those good points which will over-balance the bad points.  \nI’ve said to you on many occasions that each of us is something of a schizophrenic personality. We’re split up and divided against ourselves. And there is something of a civil war going on within all of our lives. There is a recalcitrant South of our soul revolting against the North of our soul. And there is this continual struggle within the very structure of every individual life. There is something within all of us that causes us to cry out with Ovid\, the Latin poet\, “I see and approve the better things of life\, but the evil things I do.” There is something within all of us that causes us to cry out with Plato that the human personality is like a charioteer with two headstrong horses\, each wanting to go in different directions. There is something within each of us that causes us to cry out with Goethe\, “There is enough stuff in me to make both a gentleman and a rogue.” There is something within each of us that causes us to cry out with Apostle Paul: “I see and approve the better things of life\, but the evil things I do.” \nSo somehow the “isness” of our present nature is out of harmony with the eternal “oughtness” that forever confronts us. And this simply means this: That within the best of us\, there is some evil\, and within the worst of us\, there is some good. When we come to see this\, we take a different attitude toward individuals. The person who hates you most has some good in him; even the nation that hates you most has some good in it; even the race that hates you most has some good in it. And when you come to the point that you look in the face of every man and see deep down within him what religion calls “the image of God\,” you begin to love him in spite of. No matter what he does\, you see God’s image there. There is an element of goodness that he can never slough off. Discover the element of good in your enemy. And as you seek to hate him\, find the center of goodness and place your attention there and you will take a new attitude. \nAnother way that you love your enemy is this: When the opportunity presents itself for you to defeat your enemy\, that is the time which you must not do it. There will come a time\, in many instances\, when the person who hates you most\, the person who has misused you most\, the person who has gossiped about you most\, the person who has spread false rumors about you most\, there will come a time when you will have an opportunity to defeat that person. It might be in terms of a recommendation for a job; it might be in terms of helping that person to make some move in life. That’s the time you must do it. That is the meaning of love. In the final analysis\, love is not this sentimental something that we talk about. It’s not merely an emotional something. Love is creative\, understanding goodwill for all men. It is the refusal to defeat any individual. When you rise to the level of love\, of its great beauty and power\, you seek only to defeat evil systems. Individuals who happen to be caught up in that system\, you love\, but you seek to defeat the system. \nThe Greek language\, as I’ve said so often before\, is very powerful at this point. It comes to our aid beautifully in giving us the real meaning and depth of the whole philosophy of love. And I think it is quite apropos at this point\, for you see the Greek language has three words for love\, interestingly enough. It talks about love as eros. That’s one word for love. Eros is a sort of\, aesthetic love. Plato talks about it a great deal in his Dialogues\, a sort of yearning of the soul for the realm of the gods. And it’s come to us to be a sort of romantic love\, though it’s a beautiful love. Everybody has experienced eros in all of its beauty when you find some individual that is attractive to you and that you pour out all of your like and your love on that individual. That is eros\, you see\, and it’s a powerful\, beautiful love that is given to us through all of the beauty of literature; we read about it. \nThen the Greek language talks about philia\, and that’s another type of love that’s also beautiful. It is a sort of intimate affection between personal friends. And this is the type of love that you have for those persons that you’re friendly with\, your intimate friends\, or people that you call on the telephone and you go by to have dinner with\, and your roommate in college and that type of thing. It’s a sort of reciprocal love. On this level\, you like a person because that person likes you. You love on this level\, because you are loved. You love on this level\, because there’s something about the person you love that is likeable to you. This too is a beautiful love. You can communicate with a person; you have certain things in common; you like to do things together. This is philia. \nThe Greek language comes out with another word for love. It is the word agape\, and agape is more than eros. Agape is more than philia. Agape is something of the understanding\, creative\, redemptive goodwill for all men. It is a love that seeks nothing in return. It is an overflowing love; it’s what theologians would call the love of God working in the lives of men. And when you rise to love on this level\, you begin to love men\, not because they are likeable\, but because God loves them. You look at every man\, and you love him because you know God loves him. And he might be the worst person you’ve ever seen. \nAnd this is what Jesus means\, I think\, in this very passage when he says\, “Love your enemy.” And it’s significant that he does not say\, “Like your enemy.” Like is a sentimental something\, an affectionate something. There are a lot of people that I find it difficult to like. I don’t like what they do to me. I don’t like what they say about me and other people. I don’t like their attitudes. I don’t like some of the things they’re doing. I don’t like them. But Jesus says love them. And love is greater than like. Love is understanding\, redemptive goodwill for all men\, so that you love everybody\, because God loves them. You refuse to do anything that will defeat an individual\, because you have agape in your soul. And here you come to the point that you love the individual who does the evil deed\, while hating the deed that the person does. This is what Jesus means when he says\, “Love your enemy.” This is the way to do it. When the opportunity presents itself when you can defeat your enemy\, you must not do it. \nNow for the few moments left\, let us move from the practical how to the theoretical why. It’s not only necessary to know how to go about loving your enemies\, but also to go down into the question of why we should love our enemies. I think the first reason that we should love our enemies\, and I think this was at the very center of Jesus’ thinking\, is this: that hate for hate only intensifies the existence of hate and evil in the universe. If I hit you and you hit me and I hit you back and you hit me back and go on\, you see\, that goes on ad infinitum. It just never ends. Somewhere somebody must have a little sense\, and that’s the strong person. The strong person is the person who can cut off the chain of hate\, the chain of evil. And that is the tragedy of hate\, that it doesn’t cut it off. It only intensifies the existence of hate and evil in the universe. Somebody must have religion enough and morality enough to cut it off and inject within the very structure of the universe that strong and powerful element of love. \nI think I mentioned before that sometime ago my brother and I were driving one evening to Chattanooga\, Tennessee\, from Atlanta. He was driving the car. And for some reason the drivers were very discourteous that night. They didn’t dim their lights; hardly any driver that passed by dimmed his lights. And I remember very vividly\, my brother A. D. looked over and in a tone of anger said: “I know what I’m going to do. The next car that comes along here and refuses to dim the lights\, I’m going to fail to dim mine and pour them on in all of their power.” And I looked at him right quick and said: “Oh no\, don’t do that. There’d be too much light on this highway\, and it will end up in mutual destruction for all. Somebody got to have some sense on this highway.” \nSomebody must have sense enough to dim the lights\, and that is the trouble\, isn’t it? That as all of the civilizations of the world move up the highway of history\, so many civilizations\, having looked at other civilizations that refused to dim the lights\, and they decided to refuse to dim theirs. And Toynbee tells that out of the twenty-two civilizations that have risen up\, all but about seven have found themselves in the junkheap of destruction. It is because civilizations fail to have sense enough to dim the lights.8 And if somebody doesn’t have sense enough to turn on the dim and beautiful and powerful lights of love in this world\, the whole of our civilization will be plunged into the abyss of destruction. And we will all end up destroyed because nobody had any sense on the highway of history. Somewhere somebody must have some sense. Men must see that force begets force\, hate begets hate\, toughness begets toughness. And it is all a descending spiral\, ultimately ending in destruction for all and everybody. Somebody must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate and the chain of evil in the universe. And you do that by love. \nThere’s another reason why you should love your enemies\, and that is because hate distorts the personality of the hater. We usually think of what hate does for the individual hated or the individuals hated or the groups hated. But it is even more tragic\, it is even more ruinous and injurious to the individual who hates. You just begin hating somebody\, and you will begin to do irrational things. You can’t see straight when you hate. You can’t walk straight when you hate. You can’t stand upright. Your vision is distorted. There is nothing more tragic than to see an individual whose heart is filled with hate. He comes to the point that he becomes a pathological case. For the person who hates\, you can stand up and see a person and that person can be beautiful\, and you will call them ugly. For the person who hates\, the beautiful becomes ugly and the ugly becomes beautiful. For the person who hates\, the good becomes bad and the bad becomes good. For the person who hates\, the true becomes false and the false becomes true. That’s what hate does. You can’t see right. The symbol of objectivity is lost. Hate destroys the very structure of the personality of the hater. And this is why Jesus says hate [does damage to the self]… [Recording interrupted.] \n…The way to be integrated with yourself\, and the way to be integrated with yourself is be sure that you meet every situation of life with an abounding love. Never hate\, because it ends up in tragic\, neurotic responses. 9Psychologists and psychiatrists are telling us today that the more we hate\, the more we develop guilt feelings and we begin to subconsciously repress or consciously suppress certain emotions\, and they all stack up in our subconscious selves and make for tragic\, neurotic responses. And may this not be the neuroses of many individuals as they confront life that that is an element of hate there. And modern psychology is calling on us now to love. But long before modern psychology came into being\, the world’s greatest psychologist who walked around the hills of Galilee told us to love. He looked at men and said: “Love your enemies; don’t hate anybody.” It’s not enough for us to hate your friends because—to to love your friends—because when you start hating anybody\, it destroys the very center of your creative response to life and the universe; so love everybody. Hate at any point is a cancer that gnaws away at the very vital center of your life and your existence. It is like eroding acid that eats away the best and the objective center of your life. So Jesus says love\, because hate destroys the hater as well as the hated. \nNow there is a final reason I think that Jesus says\, “Love your enemies.” It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. That’s why Jesus says\, “Love your enemies.” Because if you hate your enemies\, you have no way to redeem and to transform your enemies. But if you love your enemies\, you will discover that at the very root of love is the power of redemption. You just keep loving people and keep loving them\, even though they’re mistreating you. Here’s the person who is a neighbor\, and this person is doing something wrong to you and all of that. Just keep being friendly to that person. Keep loving them. Don’t do anything to embarrass them. Just keep loving them\, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh\, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with bitterness because they’re mad because you love them like that. They react with guilt feelings\, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period\, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love\, you see. It is redemptive\, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. So\, love your enemies. \nI think of one of the best examples of this. We all remember the great president of this United States\, Abraham Lincoln—these United States rather. You remember when Abraham Lincoln was running for president of the United States\, there was a man who ran all around the country talking about Lincoln. He said a lot of bad things about Lincoln\, a lot of unkind things. And sometimes he would get to the point that he would even talk about his looks\, saying\, “You don’t want a tall\, lanky\, ignorant man like this as the president of the United States.” He went on and on and on and went around with that type of attitude and wrote about it. Finally\, one day Abraham Lincoln was elected president of the United States. And if you read the great biography of Lincoln\, if you read the great works about him\, you will discover that as every president comes to the point\, he came to the point of having to choose a Cabinet.10 And then came the time for him to choose a Secretary of War. He looked across the nation\, and decided to choose a man by the name of Mr. Stanton. And when Abraham Lincoln stood around his advisors and mentioned this fact\, they said to him: “Mr. Lincoln\, are you a fool? Do you know what Mr. [Edwin M.] Stanton has been saying about you? Do you know what he has done\, tried to do to you? Do you know that he has tried to defeat you on every hand? Do you know that\, Mr. Lincoln? Did you read all of those derogatory statements that he made about you?” Abraham Lincoln stood before the advisors around him and said: “Oh yes\, I know about it. I read about it. I’ve heard him myself. But after looking over the country\, I find that he is the best man for the job.” \nMr. Stanton did become Secretary of War\, and…later\, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. And if you go to Washington\, you will discover that one of the greatest words or statements ever made by\, about Abraham Lincoln was made about this man Stanton. And as Abraham Lincoln came to the end of his life\, Stanton stood up and said: “Now he belongs to the ages.” And he made a beautiful statement concerning the character and the stature of this man. If Abraham Lincoln had hated Stanton\, if Abraham Lincoln had answered everything Stanton said\, Abraham Lincoln would have not transformed and redeemed Stanton. Stanton would have gone to his grave hating Lincoln\, and Lincoln would have gone to his grave hating Stanton. But through the power of love Abraham Lincoln was able to redeem Stanton. \nThat’s it. There is a power in love that our world has not discovered yet. Jesus discovered it centuries ago. Mahatma Gandhi of India discovered it a few years ago\, but most men and most women never discover it. For they believe in hitting for hitting; they believe in an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth; they believe in hating for hating; but Jesus comes to us and says\, “This isn’t the way.” \nAnd oh this morning\, as I think of the fact that our world is in transition now. Our whole world is facing a revolution. Our nation is facing a revolution\, our nation. One of the things that concerns me most is that in the midst of the revolution of the world and the midst of the revolution of this nation\, that we will discover the meaning of Jesus’ words.  \nHistory unfortunately leaves some people oppressed and some people oppressors. And there are three ways that individuals who are oppressed can deal with their oppression. One of them is to rise up against their oppressors with physical violence and corroding hatred. But oh this isn’t the way. For the danger and the weakness of this method is its futility. Violence creates many more social problems than it solves. And I’ve said\, in so many instances\, that as the Negro\, in particular\, and colored peoples all over the world struggle for freedom\, if they succumb to the temptation of using violence in their struggle\, unborn generations will be the recipients of a long and desolate night of bitterness\, and our chief legacy to the future will be an endless reign of meaningless chaos. Violence isn’t the way. \nAnother way is to acquiesce and to give in\, to resign yourself to the oppression. Some people do that. They discover the difficulties of the wilderness moving into the promised land\, and they would rather go back to the despots of Egypt because it’s difficult to get in the promised land. And so they resign themselves to the fate of oppression; they somehow acquiesce to this thing. But that too isn’t the way because non-cooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good. \nBut there is another way. And that is to organize mass non-violent resistance based on the principle of love. It seems to me that this is the only way as our eyes look to the future. As we look out across the years and across the generations\, let us develop and move right here. We must discover the power of love\, the power\, the redemptive power of love. And when we discover that we will be able to make of this old world a new world. We will be able to make men better. Love is the only way. Jesus discovered that. \nNot only did Jesus discover it\, even great military leaders discover that. One day as Napoleon came toward the end of his career and looked back across the years\, the great Napoleon that at a very early age had all but conquered the world. He was not stopped until he became\, till he moved out to the battle of Leipzig and then to Waterloo. But that same Napoleon one day stood back and looked across the years\, and said: “Alexander\, Caesar\, Charlemagne\, and I have built great empires. But upon what did they depend? They depended upon force. But long ago Jesus started an empire that depended on love\, and even to this day millions will die for him.” \nYes\, I can see Jesus walking around the hills and the valleys of Palestine. And I can see him looking out at the Roman Empire with all of her fascinating and intricate military machinery. But in the midst of that\, I can hear him saying: “I will not use this method. Neither will I hate the Roman Empire.” [Recording interrupted.] \nAnd I’m proud to stand here in Dexter this morning and say that that army is still marching. It grew up from a group of eleven or twelve men to more than seven hundred million today. Because of the power and influence of the personality of this Christ\, he was able to split history into A.D. and B.C. Because of his power\, he was able to shake the hinges from the gates of the Roman Empire. And all around the world this morning\, we can hear the glad echo of heaven ring:  \n  \nJesus shall reign wherever sun  \nDoes his successive journeys run;  \nHis kingdom spreads from shore to shore\,  \nTill moon shall wane and wax no more. \n  \nWe can hear another chorus singing: “All hail the power of Jesus name!” \nWe can hear another chorus singing: “Hallelujah\, hallelujah! He’s King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Hallelujah\, hallelujah!” \n  \nWe can hear another choir singing:  \nIn Christ there is no East or West.  \nIn Him no North or South\,  \nBut one great Fellowship of Love  \nThroughout the whole wide world.  \n  \nThis is the only way. \nAnd our civilization must discover that. Individuals must discover that as they deal with other individuals. There is a little tree planted on a little hill and on that tree hangs the most influential character that ever came in this world. But never feel that that tree is a meaningless drama that took place on the stages of history. Oh no\, it is a telescope through which we look out into the long vista of eternity\, and see the love of God breaking forth into time. It is an eternal reminder to a power-drunk generation that love is the only way. It is an eternal reminder to a generation depending on nuclear and atomic energy\, a generation depending on physical violence\, that love is the only creative\, redemptive\, transforming power in the universe. \nSo this morning\, as I look into your eyes\, and into the eyes of all of my brothers in Alabama and all over America and over the world\, I say to you\, “I love you. I would rather die than hate you.” And I’m foolish enough to believe that through the power of this love somewhere\, men of the most recalcitrant bent will be transformed. And then we will be in God’s kingdom. We will be able to matriculate into the university of eternal life because we had the power to love our enemies\, to bless those persons that cursed us\, to even decide to be good to those persons who hated us\, and we even prayed for those persons who despitefully used us. \nOh God\, help us in our lives and in all of our attitudes\, to work out this controlling force of love\, this controlling power that can solve every problem that we confront in all areas. Oh\, we talk about politics; we talk about the problems facing our atomic civilization. Grant that all men will come together and discover that as we solve the crisis and solve these problems—the international problems\, the problems of atomic energy\, the problems of nuclear energy\, and yes\, even the race problem—let us join together in a great fellowship of love and bow down at the feet of Jesus. Give us this strong determination. In the name and spirit of this Christ\, we pray. Amen. \n  \nSermon Delivered at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church\, Montgomery\, Alabama\, November 17\, 1957 \n* \n  \nBy some miracle\, someone recorded this thrilling moment at the birth of the modern Civil Rights Movement\, four days after the arrest of Rosa Parks. Here’s a link to an audio recording (with text) of King’s “Address to the First Montgomery Improvement Association Mass Meeting” at the Holt Street Baptist Church\, on December 5\, 1955: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGtp7kCi_LA&t=53s \n  \nAnd here’s a link to a video of the famous “I Have a Dream” speech\, given in Washington D.C. on August 28\, 1963: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smEqnnklfYs \n  \npeace\, love & justice \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-1-21-21/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210201
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210301
DTSTAMP:20260506T012826
CREATED:20200316T045437Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210318T175319Z
UID:585-1612137600-1614556799@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Metropolitan Opera: Nightly Met Opera Streams
DESCRIPTION:A new opera is shown every day\, starting at 4:30 pm (PST). Each opera Met streams for 20 hours.\nHere’s the link to the Metropolitan Opera.
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/https-www-metopera-org-about-press-releases-met-to-launch-nightly-met-opera-streams-a-free-series-of-encore-live-in-hd-presentations-streamed-on-the-company-website-during-the-coronavirus-closure/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210204
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210218
DTSTAMP:20260506T012826
CREATED:20210204T170141Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T122900Z
UID:1729-1612396800-1613606399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  2/4/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nFebruary 4\, 2021 \n  \nTwo weeks ago\, at the Presidential Inauguration\, Amanda Gorman\, America’s first Youth Poet Laureate recited her poem “The Hill We Climb.” (Read it aloud.): \n  \nThe Hill We Climb \n  \nMr. President\, Dr. Biden\, Madam Vice President\, Mr. Emhoff\, Americans and the world:  \n  \nWhen day comes we ask ourselves where can we find light in this never-ending shade? The loss we carry a sea we must wade. We’ve braved the belly of the beast. We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace. In the norms and notions of what just is isn’t always justice. And yet\, the dawn is ours before we knew it. Somehow we do it. Somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken\, but simply unfinished. We\, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president only to find herself reciting for one. \n  \nAnd yes\, we are far from polished\, far from pristine\, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t striving to form a union that is perfect. We are striving to forge our union with purpose. To compose a country committed to all cultures\, colors\, characters\, and conditions of man. And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us\, but what stands before us. We close the divide because we know to put our future first\, we must first put our differences aside. We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another. We seek harm to none and harmony for all. Let the globe\, if nothing else\, say this is true. That even as we grieved\, we grew. That even as we hurt\, we hoped. That even as we tired\, we tried that we’ll forever be tied together victorious. Not because we will never again know defeat\, but because we will never again sow division. \n  \nScripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree and no one shall make them afraid. If we’re to live up to our own time\, then victory won’t lie in the blade\, but in all the bridges we’ve made. That is the promise to glade\, the hill we climb if only we dare. It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit. It’s the past we step into and how we repair it. We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation rather than share it. Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy. And this effort very nearly succeeded. \n  \nBut while democracy can be periodically delayed\, it can never be permanently defeated. In this truth\, in this faith we trust for while we have our eyes on the future\, history has its eyes on us. This is the era of just redemption. We feared it at its inception. We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour\, but within it\, we found the power to author a new chapter\, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves so while once we asked\, how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe? Now we assert\, how could catastrophe possibly prevail over us? \n  \nWe will not march back to what was\, but move to what shall be a country that is bruised\, but whole\, benevolent\, but bold\, fierce\, and free. We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation. Our blunders become their burdens. But one thing is certain\, if we merge mercy with might and might with right\, then love becomes our legacy and change our children’s birthright. \n  \nSo let us leave behind a country better than one we were left with. Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one. We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the West. We will rise from the wind-swept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution. We will rise from the Lake Rim cities of the Midwestern states. We will rise from the sun-baked South. We will rebuild\, reconcile and recover in every known nook of our nation\, in every corner called our country our people diverse and beautiful will emerge battered and beautiful. When day comes\, we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid. The new dawn blooms as we free it. For there is always light. If only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it. \n  \n—Amanda Gorman  January 20\, 2021 \n  \nHere’s a link to a video of her reciting the poem: \n  \nhttps://www.nytimes.com/video/us/politics/100000007561374/poet-amanda-gorman-inauguration.html?searchResultPosition=1 \n* \n  \nPrabu sent me his thoughts on Tolstoy’s last novel\, Resurrection.: \n  \nTolstoy’s final novel opens in a courtroom\, where Dmitri Nekhlyudov\, a landowning aristocrat\, called onto jury service\, finds out that Katusha\, his teenage love\, is among the three accused of a murder and theft. Katusha used to be a maid at his aunt’s estate when Nekhlyudov first met her. They fell in love and she eventually became pregnant with his child. \n  \nIn 19th century Russia\, it was not uncommon for an aristocrat to impregnate a maid. Tolstoy himself had a similar affair with one of his household servants before his marriage. Nekhlyudov doesn’t feel any moral obligation for Katusha or the child. He moves forward with his aristocratic life—becomes a soldier\, returns to the civil society\, drinks\, has affairs with married women\, and courts a young princess for marriage. \n  \nKatusha’s journey\, however\, takes a different turn. Who wants a pregnant maid in the staff quarters\, after all? She gets kicked out of her job in the estate. She finds several jobs\, but repeatedly gets molested at work. She gives birth to a son and leaves him in a  orphanage. Circumstances get her into prostitution. She accepts her condition and gets a legal permit from the government. One day a wealthy client of hers\, who torments her for a whole evening\, gets killed in the hotel room. She is accused of the murder and ends up in the courtroom. She even gets wrongly convicted and sentenced to hard labor in Siberia\, due to some petty negligence of the men on the jury and the judge.  \n  \nFor Nekhlyudov\, the truth that his actions lead to Katusha’s ill fate starts to sink in. His Christian conscience seeks pardon for his sins. He immediately approaches a lawyer and appeals for a hearing of her case in the Senate. He also decides to marry her\, if she consents.  \n  \nHas Nekhlyudov turned into a moral human? Where was this conscience all these years?  Why was he able to go on living without thinking about the consequences of his actions? These aren’t my questions. Tolstoy’s protagonist questions himself along these lines. The answer\, as Nekhlyudov and Tolstoy would discover\, is somewhere hidden in the values of landowning in feudal Russian society.  \n  \nNekhlyudov’s abandonment of love for the pursuit of pleasure and status was the injustice which occurred in the spiritual realm. In the worldly realm\, the feudalistic idea of treating land and earth simply as a property that certain privileged humans can own and control at the expense of other humans\, like farmers and peasants\, is the underlying crime. In the novel Nekhlyudov realizes this and seeks remedies for it by distributing most of his estates to the peasants and keeping only what is essential to support a simple life for himself. \n  \nThe Senate rejects Katusha’s case and she\, along with other prisoners\, begins walking on the 3000 mile journey to Siberia. He writes to the Tsar\, explaining the jury’s mistake in her case\, and decides to follow her to Siberia. Through his interaction with some of the other prisoners\, he discovers that there are several innocent people among them. He tries to help them by all possible means\, but often comes up against the power and wealth of his old aristocratic way of living. At times it even allures him to retreat into it.  His conscience  resists. He can seek cure for his own past mistakes\, but how much can he change the injustices in society? Would his well-intended actions lead to any fruitful results? What is one to do with evildoers\, like those who murder someone? \n  \nTolstoy concludes by reflecting on the centuries old practice of punishing criminals: \n  \n“For many centuries people who were considered criminals have been tortured. Well\, and have they ceased to exist? No; their numbers have been increased not alone by the criminals corrupted by punishment but also by those lawful criminals\, the judges\, procureurs\, magistrates and jailers\, who judge and punish men. Nekhlyudov now understood that society and order in general exists not because of these lawful criminals who judge and punish others\, but because in spite of men being thus depraved\, they still pity and love one another. \n  \nDoesn’t the Gospel tell the same in the Sermon on the Mount?—that man should not only not demand an eye for an eye\, but when struck on one cheek should hold out the other\, should forgive an offence and bear it humbly\, and never refuse the service others demand of him.” \n  \nLike Nekhlyudov\, I also lay silent in my bed on this rainy night\, waiting for the first light of dawn to touch my window and imagining a society where these principles were carried out in practice. Only a century has passed between us. \n  \n—Prabu Muruganantham \n* \n  \nThe conclusion of Prabu’s essay reminds me of William Blake’s words: \n  \nLove to faults is always blind\, \nAlwasy is to joy inclin’d\, \nLawless\, wing’d & unconfin’d\, \nAnd breaks all chains from every mind. \n* \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in love. \n—Johnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-2-4-21/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210214
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210228
DTSTAMP:20260506T012826
CREATED:20210209T225318Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210219T164629Z
UID:1753-1613260800-1614470399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous! Valentine's Day Special: LOVE POEMS
DESCRIPTION:Paolo and Francesca by Anselm Feuerbach \n  \nValentine’s Day Special! LOVE POEMS.  \n  \nWe read love poems. Joining our merry band of lovers were Jude Russell\, Martha Ragland\, Nancy Scharbach\, Jeffrey Sher\, Dave Duncan\, Ken Margolis and Johnny Stallings. Katie Radditz couldn’t come\, but she sent some poems. Jeffrey got the ball rolling with a poem by Theodore Roethke\, and later added one by William Carlos Williams: \n  \nI Knew a Woman \n\n\n\n  \nI knew a woman\, lovely in her bones\, \nWhen small birds sighed\, she would sigh back at them;    \nAh\, when she moved\, she moved more ways than one:    \nThe shapes a bright container can contain! \nOf her choice virtues only gods should speak\, \nOr English poets who grew up on Greek \n(I’d have them sing in chorus\, cheek to cheek). \n\n  \nHow well her wishes went! She stroked my chin\,    \nShe taught me Turn\, and Counter-turn\, and Stand;    \nShe taught me Touch\, that undulant white skin;    \nI nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;    \nShe was the sickle; I\, poor I\, the rake\, \nComing behind her for her pretty sake \n(But what prodigious mowing we did make). \n\n  \nLove likes a gander\, and adores a goose: \nHer full lips pursed\, the errant note to seize; \nShe played it quick\, she played it light and loose;    \nMy eyes\, they dazzled at her flowing knees;    \nHer several parts could keep a pure repose\,    \nOr one hip quiver with a mobile nose \n(She moved in circles\, and those circles moved). \n\n  \nLet seed be grass\, and grass turn into hay:    \nI’m martyr to a motion not my own; \nWhat’s freedom for? To know eternity. \nI swear she cast a shadow white as stone.    \nBut who would count eternity in days? \nThese old bones live to learn her wanton ways:    \n(I measure time by how a body sways). \n\n  \n–Theodore Roethke \n\n\n  \nHere’s Theodore Roethke reading the poem: \n  \n \n  \n\n\n\n* \nThis Is Just To Say \n\n\n\n  \nI have eaten \nthe plums \nthat were in \nthe ice box \n  \nand which \nyou were probably \nsaving \nfor breakfast \n  \nForgive me \nthey were delicious \nso sweet \nand so cold \n  \n–William Carlos Williams \n* \nJude played Offenbach’s Barcarolle for us\, sung by Anna Netrebko & Elīna Garanča\, from Tales of Hoffmann: \n  \n \n  \n* \nDave read “Re-Statement of Romance” by Wallace Stevens: \n  \nRe-Statement of Romance \n  \nThe night knows nothing of the chants of night. \nIt is what it is as I am what I am: \nAnd in perceiving this I best perceive myself \n  \nAnd you. Only we two may interchange \nEach in the other what each has to give. \nOnly we two are one\, not you and night\, \n  \nNor night and I\, but you and I\, alone\, \nSo much alone\, so deeply by ourselves\, \nSo far beyond the casual solitudes\, \n  \nThat night is only the background of our selves\, \nSupremely true each to its separate self\, \nIn the pale light that each upon the other \nthrows. \n  \n–Wallace Stevens \n* \nMartha read “Wish in a War Zone” by Amy Gerstler\, from Bitter Angel\, published in 1990\, and “The Shirt” by Jane Kenyon: \n  \nWish in a War Zone \n  \nSomewhere under the weather \nsnores our drugged hero: \na gladiator or astronaut\, \nlying in a fringed hammock \nin his mother’s garden\, \nwaiting to be wakened \nand loosed upon the world. \nQuick\, into my arms before \nthe next tremor hits. \nJust beneath these monsoons\, \nan aurora borealis trembles. \nTucked into its luminous \ngunbelt\, a change of luck\, \nan abrupt windfall tunes up\, \njust for us. Soon\, \ninstead of zinging bullets \nwe’ll find ourselves drenched \nin concertos. I have no \nauthority to comfort \nyou\, though I try. \nIf all this is to vanish\, \nIf you and I are lost\, \nset loose\, wounded\, \nto wander among uncomplaining \ntrees\, fingering their lightly \nhaired\, sticky little leaves\, \nthen hand me my camera. \nI must take pictures. \n  \n–Amy Gerstler \n* \nThe Shirt \n  \nThe shirt touches his neck \nand smooths over his back. \nIt slides down his sides. \nIt even goes down below his belt— \ndown into his pants. \nLucky shirt. \n  \n—Jane Kenyon \n* \nKen read a section of a poem by Bertolt Brecht. \n* \nKatie sent these poems: \n  \nCome to the orchard in Spring. \nThere is light and wine\, and sweethearts \nin the pomegranate flowers. \n  \nIf you do not come\, these do not matter. \nIf you do come\, these do not matter. \n  \n–Rumi \n* \n  \ni carry your heart with me(i carry it in \nmy heart)i am never without it(anywhere \ni go you go\,my dear;and whatever is done \nby only me is your doing\,my darling) \n                                                      i fear \nno fate(for you are my fate\,my sweet)i want \nno world(for beautiful you are my world\,my true) \nand it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant \nand whatever a sun will always sing is you \nhere is the deepest secret nobody knows \n(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud \nand the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows \nhigher than soul can hope or mind can hide) \nand this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart \ni carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) \n  \n—e. e. cummings \n* \nI Loved You Before I Was Born \nI loved you before I was born.\nIt doesn’t make sense\, I know.  \nI saw your eyes before I had eyes to see.\nAnd I’ve lived longing \nfor your ever look ever since.\nThat longing entered time as this body.  \nAnd the longing grew as this body waxed.\nAnd the longing grows as the body wanes.\nThe longing will outlive this body.  \nI loved you before I was born.\nIt doesn’t make sense\, I know.  \nLong before eternity\, I caught a glimpse\nof your neck and shoulders\, your ankles and toes.\nAnd I’ve been lonely for you from that instant.\nThat loneliness appeared on earth as this body. \nAnd my share of time has been nothing \nbut your name outrunning my ever saying it clearly. \nYour face fleeing my ever\nkissing it firmly once on the mouth.  \nIn longing\, I am most myself\, rapt\,\nmy lamp mortal\, my light \nhidden and singing.   \nI give you my blank heart.\nPlease write on it\nwhat you wish.   \n  \n–Li-Young Lee \n* \n  \nWhat We’re Doing Here \n\nThis is why we are here—\nnot merely to survive\nbut to fall in love\nwith the white-breasted hawk\nand the rainbow fish\,\nwith the lonely sidewalk\nand the shadows of ourselves\,\nfall in love with the hands\nof the woman wearing yellow\nand the girl who loves chocolate\nand the boy who loves cars\nand the man who makes us want to be\na better version of ourself.\n \nWe are here to fall into unmanageable love—\nto love beyond reason\, beyond\nfact\, beyond certainty. We are here\nto lose all our ideas about love\nand know it as the next choice\nwe make\, the next word\nwe say\, the next invitation\nwe offer ourselves.\n \nWe are here to love\nthe world and each other\nthe way whales love water\,\nthe way blue loves a peacock\,\nthe way night blooming jasmine\nloves night.\n\n—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer\n*\n\nI read “The Sun Rising” and the last part of “To His Mistress Going to Bed” by John Donne. And “We Two\, How Long We Were Fool’d” by Walt Whitman. And this gem from William Blake:\n\n\nLove to faults is always blind\, \nAlways is to joy inclin’d\, \nLawless\, wing’d & unconfin’d\, \nAnd breaks all chains from every mind. \n  \n—William Blake \n* \nAnd my own poem\, “wake up\, heart!”: \n\n  \nwake up\, heart! \n  \nwake up\, heart! \nwake up and love everyone and every thing \nlove the unlovable \nthe unhappy old men who start the wars \nthe geniuses who collapse the economy \nthe heads of the big corporations who ruin the earth \nthey need love\, too \nwhy else would they do stuff like that? \n  \nwe all want to love and be loved \nwe all need to love and be loved \nlove everything that moves \nand everything that won’t budge \nlove the person who is reading or listening to this poem \n  \nyou might start with the easy ones \npassing dogs \nlaughing children \nfluffy white clouds \nall the spring flowers shouting “love me!” \npractice on the easy ones \nuntil you get so good at it that you accidentally love the weird and scary homeless people\,  \nthe criminals\,  \nthe people whose views differ from yours \n—before you have time to think about it \n  \nheart\, you were born for love \nmr. brain sometimes tells you not to \n“don’t love that one\,” he says\, “that one doesn’t deserve it” \n“don’t be a fool” \nforgive mr. brain \nhe can’t help it \nhe’s always making distinctions between this and that \nhe needs a hug \n  \nyou know better \nyou know that the thing to do is just to love \nto wake up and love without limit \n  \n–Johnny Stallings \n  \nAt the end I talked a bit about Romeo and Juliet. When they first meet\, these two amazing young lovers spontaneously compose a sonnet–a sure sign that they are well-matched: \n  \nROMEO \nIf I profane with my unworthiest hand \nThis holy shrine\, the gentle sin is this: \nMy lips\, two blushing pilgrims\, ready stand \nTo smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. \nJULIET \nGood pilgrim\, you do wrong your hand too much\, \nWhich mannerly devotion shows in this; \nFor saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch\, \nAnd palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss. \nROMEO \nHave not saints lips\, and holy palmers too? \nJULIET \nAy\, pilgrim\, lips that they must use in prayer. \nROMEO \nO then\, dear saint\, let lips do what hands do– \nThey pray; grant thou\, lest faith turn to despair. \nJULIET \nSaints do not move\, though grant for prayers’ sake. \nROMEO \nThen move not while my prayer’s effect I take. \n[He kisses her.] \nThus from my lips\, by thine\, my sin is purged. \nJULIET \nThen have my lips the sin that they have took. \nROMEO \nSin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! \nGive me my sin again. \n[She kisses him.] \nJULIET \n                                            You kiss by th’ book. \n  \nAnd…Juliet’s love is absolute: \n  \nJULIET \nMy bounty is as boundless as the sea\, \nMy love as deep. The more I give to thee\, \nThe more I have for both are infinite. \n  \n–William Shakespeare \n\nWell\, that’s it for now. \n  \nMay we live in love. \nJohnny \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-valentines-day-special-love-poems/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210215
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210315
DTSTAMP:20260506T012826
CREATED:20210217T032953Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20211130T014826Z
UID:1781-1613347200-1615766399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  2/15/21
DESCRIPTION:photo by Kim Stafford \n  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nI find it interesting how my mind works. \n—Michel Deforge \n  \nFebruary 15\, 2020 \n  \nWelcome to our sixth meditation and mindfulness dialogue! The numbers below refer to passages from the book Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh. The tag on my Yogi Tea bag says: “Compassion will make you beautiful.” (JS) \n* \n  \nHey guys\, I hope you enjoy this M & M submission. \nYou are all great & I hope you’re well. \nI’m looking forward to reading your submissions. \n  \n#95  What Is Your True Face? \n  \nAn answer from the face of ages. \n  \nWhat was my face you’ve queried\, and although I know what it is\, I can’t say it ever was. \nChange…  As far as I can tell my face has never changed. \nOnly the great multitude of masks I don in a moment’s notice can be defined as change\, and only then in a second’s split. \nUnderneath my face remains the same\, frozen\, pursed in the seeker’s scowl as it journeys through the ages. \nWhat was my face? \nMy face always is\, and in always being never was\, for the pulse of life is too strong to resist\, & the change of masks a familiar constant. \nRemember\, how could I forget? \nI still remember them all\, whether gilded\, plain\, or in between\, I still remember. \nMaybe it’s time for a change… \n  \n—Joshua Tyler Barnes \n* \n  \nI’m 25 wisdoms into Your True Home\, and so far what has occupied my thinking most is the apparent (to my novice understanding) conflict for an artist (specifically writers) trying to practice mindfulness and meditation. My struggle with meditation is that I start to have good ideas! Then\, I don’t want to forget them\, so I either A) begin ruining the meditation by trying not to forget the good idea\, or B) stop meditating so I can write down the good idea before I forget it. Also\, as a writer\, I am always applying words & labels & categories to everything I see\, thereby denying the essential emptiness of everything\, which my heart & mind both know to be true. But there is an everpresent pull\, a wish\, to exist without the endless desire to write about\, catalog\, chronicle the act of existence. This isn’t a unique torment. It’s actually something a lot of writers write about\, especially poets: “I throw my quill into the sea\, and burn my parchments\,” etc. There’s an excellent little monograph by Ben Lerner called “The Hatred of Poetry” that I recommend you read. In it\, he talks about this strange inclination\, as evidenced in the renunciations of writing by legends such as Rimbaud & Oppen. \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nNot Thinking While Writing \n  \nBefore I write in the early morning\, I sit in the dark for a time\, breathing\, resisting thought but welcoming wondering\, sensation\, and the simple ache of being that is more primordial than regret or fear\, the pleasure of some hunger\, some cold. I’m in the shed\, after all\, in my chair with the strips of rug on the runners because it once lived in the fire station\, where the card players did not want to disturb the sleepers. \n  \nWhen I write\, do I want to disturb the sleepers? No\, I want to sidle into their dreams and tell them how beautiful they are\, give them wishes\, provide them with stories of simple triumph that hurts no one\, so when they wake\, life will be a little easier. So we all may be more curious than afraid. \n  \nIn 1913\, the Russian futurist poet Aleksei Kruchenykh created the word zaum\, which means ‘beyond or behind the mind.’ He sought an experimental poetic language characterized by indeterminacy: ‘beyonsense.’ \n  \nThe geese are shouting as they fly north \nso they will not be encumbered by all those \nextra syllables\, can concentrate on the magnetic \ntug toward the far beyond. \n  \nThe river leaves its shouting in the mountains  \nso in the valley it can depend on wink and whisper  \nto convey its learning\, its salmon home scent \nfor anyone alert enough to notice. \n  \nShall I throw my pen into the sea? Shall I take  \na vow of silence in order to be worthy of this  \nexistence? How many trees did my poems have to  \nkill\, anyway\, to gather these pages? Just enough. \n  \nI plant seeds of silence\, syllable by syllable. \nMy greatest gift for you is the space between words \nwhere my code tells the secrets of our oldest kinship\, \nand all my love in the silence after the last breath. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nKim also sent this poem by Chuang Tzu\, along with a writing prompt: \n  \nThe Woodcarver \n  \nKhing\, the master carver\, made a bell stand \nOf precious wood. When it was finished\, \nAll who saw it were astounded. They said it must be \nThe work of spirits. \nThe Prince of Lu said to the master carver: \nWhat is your secret? \n  \nKhing replied: I am only a workman: \nI have no secret. There is only this: \nWhen I began to think about  \nthe work you commanded \nI guarded my spirit\, did not expend it \nOn trifles\, that were not to the point. \nI fasted in order to set \nMy heart at rest. \nAfter three days fasting\, \nI had forgotten gain and success. \nAfter five days \nI had forgotten praise or criticism. \nAfter seven days I had forgotten my body \nWith all its limbs. \n  \nBy this time all thought of your Highness \nAnd of the court had faded away. \nAll that might distract me from the work \nHad vanished. \nI was collected in the single thought \nOf the bell stand. \n  \nThen I went to the forest \nTo see the trees in their own natural state. \nWhen the right tree appeared before my eyes\, \nThe bell stand also appeared in it\, clearly\,  \nbeyond doubt. \nAll I had to do was to put forth my hand \nand begin. \n  \nIf I had not met this particular tree \nThere would have been  \nNo bell stand at all. \n  \nWhat happened? \nMy own collected thought \nEncountered the hidden potential in the wood; \nFrom this live encounter came the work \nWhich you ascribe to the spirits. \n  \n—Chuang Tzu (translated by Thomas Merton) \n  \nChuang Tzu\, or Zhuang Zhou\, or Zhaungzi…was an influential Chinese philosopher who lived around the 4th century B.C.\, during the Warring States period\, a time corresponding to the summit of Chinese philosophy\, the Hundred Schools of Thought. He is credited with writing…one of the foundational texts of Taoism… He is described as a minor official from the town of Meng\, in the state of Song. (Wikipedia) \n  \nWriting prompt: Tell the story  of something you did purely for beauty\, for essence\, in response to a call that reached your heart… \n* \n  \n(Some excerpts from Michel’s meditation journal:) \n  \nJanuary 24\, 2021 \n  \n#69 Suddenly You Are Free \n  \nIt may happen like that—suddenly. Two days ago\, I was uprooted and moved from my place of comfort and peace (complacency?)\, to a new unit. I tested positive for COVID-19 on 1/14. The DOC response was to take all positives and cohort us in one unit. There was little communication and much chaos and anxiety for all affected staff. Many of my fellow prisoners are also stressed out beyond their limits\, or at the very fringe of their coping. I too was initially anxious. Because I was the only one leaving my unit and I didn’t know where I was moving or why. As soon as I learned it was not a move to the DSU/“Med” iso wing and that the goal was a conversion of a regular incentive unit into a COVID isloation/quarantine unit\, I was able to release my tensions. I hate moving!…. \n  \nYet\, somehow\, amidst all the chaos\, my stress settled quickly and I stumbled across peace\, acceptance and understanding—suddenly. I’m no great success with mindfulness and meditation. But\, sometimes it works! \n  \nIn some ways\, I see the truth of Thây’s thought in the experience\, and in some ways I wonder if he is speaking of a more deliberate and permanent result of all the work—suddenly finding freedom after looking for so many years. I do think that for something appearing suddenly\, it can also disappear just as suddenly. If I relax into the appearance and don’t grasp it tightly\, then\, maybe\, I won’t get hurt so much when it goes away just as suddenly. \n  \nJanuary 25\, 2021 \n  \n#70   Miraculous Smile \n  \nWriting here\, I am also looking at my first lines from January 1. So much has happened since then. Yet\, it is still true. Life is really “perfect” just the way it happens—whether I “like” it or not is irrelevant. Today’s writing reminds me of how easy it can be to feel better. As Thây puts it\, knowing (how) to breathe\, we can find our peace and our smile. (I wonder if I really know how to breathe.) I have had times when finding my smile has helped someone else relax a little. I have read before that faking a genuine smile will cause a shift of hormones and thoughts\, leading to having a genuine smile—I think it works. Whatever the case\, I can stop…breathe…smile at myself (or what/whom ever)…and carry on with my day. It may or may not be a grand “miracle.” It will be a smile and a moment of breathing mindfully. It will be a break\, no matter how brief\, from whatever else is competing for my life’s energy. And\, it is a moment I can control in a world of chaos. \n  \n9:00 pm Update: \n  \nHaving been awoken for mail delivery…(normally\, this would be grounds for great upset by any prisoner)\, I came to realize this poor fella (PM-swing CO) running this unit is having to keep up with a “COVID-POSITIVE” unit—with showers\, phone calls\, access to ice and water and whatever other services he must provide—like mail\, meals\, call-outs—alone… It is hard to not have compassion for anyone subjected to such work-conditions\, (or\, it’s relatively “easy\,” especially since he has been positive and generally conciliatory in the performance of his duties). I find it interesting how my mind works. A staff person whom I don’t know\, and with whom I haven’t had much contact\, comes in\, working alone\, with a positive attitude\, doing all he (or she) can to keep abreast of the daily duties\, and is doing so in a manner which does not put any of that burden upon us prisoners—is one to applaud. It is easy to feel compassion\, almost automatically\, for this person. Random thoughts at 10 pm. \n  \nJanuary 27\, 2021 \n  \n#71  Habit Energy \n  \n….I see this same pattern in my life—OLD HABIT energy holding me back or weighing me down. When I can\, I let it go. Sometimes I need to go through a challenging learning process to do this. In the end I grow. Thây doesn’t teach a technique for letting go\, but a gentle awakening to an awareness of exploration into the habit energy I do have—be it of my own creation\, or inherited. Having come to an awareness\, I then have a choice about what I do with that energy—keep\, change\, or Let Go. I have power. \n  \nJanuary 28\, 2021 \n  \n#72  You Are Safe Now \n  \nThis is not a phrase I hear here in prison often. Yet\, it’s timely. I just had a cellie on a previous unit—(they’re bouncing the COVID POSITIVES – PRE/POST CLEARANCE all over)—who was told he was to move to an unknown cell with high probability of mortal danger. Through timely machinations by kind staff he was allowed to stay put—he’s safe. That same night I got word of my immanent reassignment. I am back “home” on Unit 13. I too am safe now. I wonder how often we fail to recognize this truth in our day-to-day ordinary lives. If I never hear this\, or tell myself this\, will I be able to recognize when a crisis is over and I am again safe? My guess is: no. I wonder how many of life’s challenges became traumas simply because I didn’t know I was now “safe.” And\, maybe I never knew “safe” as part of my reality growing up\, but\, I can learn that now and maybe even offer this bit of help to another in saying\, “You’re safe now.” (Mantra exercise\, with breath.) \n  \nJanuary 29\, 2021 \n  \n#73  The Anchor \n  \nOnce again I am brought back and reminded that my breath is my connection to life. “Well\, sure\, silly! Of course it is. Everyone has to breathe to stay alive.” It is true. To live is to breathe. If I stop breathing\, I stop living. It’s an unavoidable technicality. I am\, however\, looking through Thây’s lens. When I am disconnected from my breath and breathing\, life just sort of happens without my conscious involvement—which is most often the case for me. I can’t say that anything mystical or magical happens if and when I’m alert to my breathing—connected. But\, when stressed\, if I focus on my breath and pray\, (contemplate the Infinite\, if you will)\, then I am calmed\, eventually\, and able to be more present and rational\, or in control of much of my actions and words. \n  \nMy breath becomes my “still point” (anchor)\, from which I can move out into the world around me\, regardless of events (or chaos) within it. \n  \nJanuary 30\, 2021 \n  \n#74  Caught in the Idea of a Self \n  \nThis idea of no-self (integrating self and non-self) has been a focus of mine\, off and on. I don’t know where it will lead me\, or how far I am along a path to understanding or embracing such an idea. So far\, I have learned (?) that we are all inter-related and not separate from any thing or anyone—even if our experience and sense of self-identity suggest otherwise…. \n  \nWhat I do know matters is learning to connect fully to this “life.” I can only do this through breath\, and intent. We’ve been calling this “mindfulness.” I think (it’s my guess\, mind you) that the Buddha (and all his progeny)\, Jesus and others\, are fundamentally striving to explain this very simple idea—living a complete\, whole life\, connected to reality as it is\, not as ego manufactures it to be through stories to convince the self of it being a hero of its story. I’m probably off base on this… But\, I’ll keep breathing to find out. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \n#46  Deep Listening and Loving Speech \n  \nDeep listening and loving speech are wonderful instruments to help us arrive at the kind of understanding we all need as a basis for appropriate action. You listen deeply for only one purpose—to allow the other person to empty his or her heart. This is already an act of relieving suffering. To stop any suffering\, no matter how small\, is a great action of peace. The path to end suffering depends on your understanding and your capacity to act without causing harm or further suffering. This is acting with compassion\, your best protection. \n  \nI wanted to write out TNH’s piece on this\, because my thoughts follow his thought\, but his are integral to mine. I keep trying to articulate what I mean when I say that relationships/understanding/connection are what give life meaning to me. But without going deeper\, those words don’t mean much. Or else they mean too much! \n  \nThich Nhat Hanh opens it up for me\, with Deep Listening and Loving Speech. Before relationship\, understanding and connection can happen\, I must listen deeply\, intently\, slowly\, and respond by speaking with love. My life is at its fullest\, its richest\, when I am listening so deeply to someone that they feel loved enough to open their heart. Listening to someone who is normally unheard\, derided\, discounted\, debased—a prison inmate; an unwed\, pregnant mom; a vet with PTSD; an angry teenager; a woman living on the edge in Meridian\, Mississippi; an Hispanic worker trying to learn English…all those who are suffering in whichever myriad ways one suffers. \n  \nA corollary to deep listening and loving speech is—time. Deep listening and deep response that lead to understanding\, relationship and connection requires years to achieve. I have always said I give everything ten years—ten years for my stepchildren to love me\, my wisteria to bloom\, my body to shed 5 pounds. I am patient. After ten years\, I re-evaluate and might give it (whatever “it” is) another ten years. In relationships time is important. Trust doesn’t happen immediately. One who is suffering has built up sturdy walls of protection\, and only time\, deep listening and loving speech can build trust and break down walls. And when those walls come down\, oh man! the richness that pours forth is a gift—the gift of life\, and relief from suffering\, the gift of peace and joy. All those things for both the person suffering and for me. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nI once lived in a small cabin and wrote small poems. Here are some of them: \n  \na bowl of oatmeal \nand a cup of coffee \ndid you think heaven was up in the sky somewhere? \n  \nlet go of thought \nand see what happens \n  \nall these people walking around  \nimagining that the ideas in their heads \nmake them different from each other \n  \nsitting here \nwith a cup of green tea \nI forget what it was \nthat I was so worried about \n  \ndo you imagine \nthere is some other day? \n  \nthe things we think we know \nare the stones of the prison \nin which we live \n  \nsay “I am” \nand leave it at that \n  \nwhen you see how simple it is to be happy \nyou’ll kick yourself \nfor spending so much time being miserable \n  \nwhat Reason has rent asunder \nthe Heart will make whole \n  \neverything I touch \ntouches me \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nMeditation\, it seems to me\, is like detox for the mind.  Similar to the way our bodies need detoxing when we’ve indulged in too much for too long\, our minds can become saturated with noise to the point where an intervention is required.  The remedy is the same for both the body and the mind: let go of the indulgence.  Quit drinking.  Quit thinking.  Keep still.   \n  \nThe uncluttered awareness of the meditative mind reconnects us with the elemental beauty of life.  Clarity returns.  The painful sense of isolation diminishes.   How can we not feel gratitude for such an exquisite and accessible way to restore ourselves? \n  \n—Bill Faricy \n* \n  \n#45  The Bridge \n  \nBreath is the bridge to life; in sleep or awake\, we cross the bridge always. We also share and build bridges with others by breathing in their love\, dreams\, needs and respect. Breaths & Bridges are more than air. \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-2-15-21/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210218
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210304
DTSTAMP:20260506T012826
CREATED:20210218T180103Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T123033Z
UID:1794-1613606400-1614815999@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  2/18/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nFebruary 18\, 2021 \n  \nFebruary 14th was Valentine’s Day. Our Bibliophiles Unanimous Zoom gathering celebrated by reading love poems. Here are some of the poems we shared and some we didn’t. But first\, some wisdom from the tag on my Yogi Tea bag\, and then a story of young love: \n  \nYou don’t need love\, you are love. \n  \n—anonymous sage employed by the Yogi Tea Company \n* \n  \nIn fifth grade I developed this major crush on a sixth-grader named Wendy. She always had the prettiest face and the nicest smile; everybody thought so. So I started kissing rocks and throwing them at her. \n  \n—John\, Connecticut\, b. 1959\, from Up To No Good: the rascally things boys do\, edited by Kitty Harmon \n* \n  \nLove to faults is always blind\, \nAlways is to joy inclin’d\, \nLawless\, wing’d & unconfin’d\, \nAnd breaks all chains from every mind. \n  \n  \n—William Blake  (1757-1827) \n* \n  \nTHESEUS \n  \nLovers and madmen have such seething brains\, \nSuch shaping fantasies\, that apprehend \nMore than cool reason ever comprehends. \nThe lunatic\, the lover\, and the poet \nAre of imagination all compact. \nOne sees more devils than vast hell can hold: \nThat is the madman. The lover\, all as frantic\, \nSees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt. \nThe poet’s eye\, in a fine frenzy rolling\, \nDoth glance from heaven to earth\, from earth to heaven. \nAnd as imagination bodies forth \nThe forms of things unknown\, the poet’s pen \nTurns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing \nA local habitation and a name. \nSuch tricks hath strong imagination\, \nThat if it would but apprehend some joy\, \nIt comprehends some bringer of that joy. \nOr in the night\, imagining some fear\, \nHow easy is a bush supposed a bear? \n  \n—William Shakespeare (1564-1616)\, from A Midsummer Night’s Dream\, Act V\, scene i. \n* \n  \ni carry your heart with me(i carry it in \nmy heart)i am never without it(anywhere \ni go you go\,my dear;and whatever is done \nby only me is your doing\,my darling) \n                                                      i fear \nno fate(for you are my fate\,my sweet)i want \nno world(for beautiful you are my world\,my true) \nand it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant \nand whatever a sun will always sing is you \n  \nhere is the deepest secret nobody knows \n(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud \nand the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows \nhigher than soul can hope or mind can hide) \nand this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart \n  \ni carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) \n  \n—e. e. cummings (1894-1962) \n* \n  \nI Loved You Before I Was Born \n  \nI loved you before I was born. \nIt doesn’t make sense\, I know. I saw your eyes before I had eyes to see. \nAnd I’ve lived longing  \nfor your ever look ever since. \nThat longing entered time as this body. And the longing grew as this body waxed. \nAnd the longing grows as the body wanes. \nThe longing will outlive this body. I loved you before I was born. \nIt doesn’t make sense\, I know. Long before eternity\, I caught a glimpse \nof your neck and shoulders\, your ankles and toes. \nAnd I’ve been lonely for you from that instant. \nThat loneliness appeared on earth as this body.  \nAnd my share of time has been nothing  \nbut your name outrunning my ever saying it clearly.  \nYour face fleeing my ever \nkissing it firmly once on the mouth. In longing\, I am most myself\, rapt\, \nmy lamp mortal\, my light  \nhidden and singing.  I give you my blank heart. \nPlease write on it \nwhat you wish.   \n  \n—Li-Young Lee – 1957-  \n* \n  \nThe Song of Wandering Aengus \n  \nI went out to the hazel wood\, \nBecause a fire was in my head\, \nAnd cut and peeled a hazel wand\, \nAnd hooked a berry to a thread; \nAnd when white moths were on the wing\, \nAnd moth-like stars were flickering out\, \nI dropped the berry in a stream \nAnd caught a little silver trout. \n  \nWhen I had laid it on the floor \nI went to blow the fire a-flame\, \nBut something rustled on the floor\, \nAnd someone called me by my name: \nIt had become a glimmering girl \nWith apple blossom in her hair \nWho called me by my name and ran \nAnd faded through the brightening air. \n  \nThough I am old with wandering \nThrough hollow lands and hilly lands\, \nI will find out where she has gone\, \nAnd kiss her lips and take her hands; \nAnd walk among long dappled grass\, \nAnd pluck till time and times are done\, \nThe silver apples of the moon\, \nThe golden apples of the sun. \n  \n—William Butler Yeats  (1865-1939) \n* \n  \nThis Is Just To Say \n  \nI have eaten \nthe plums \nthat were in \nthe ice box \n  \nand which \nyou were probably \nsaving \nfor breakfast \n  \nForgive me \nthey were delicious \nso sweet \nand so cold \n  \n–William Carlos Williams  (1883-1963) \n* \n  \nWhat We’re Doing Here  \n  \nThis is why we are here— \nnot merely to survive \nbut to fall in love \nwith the white-breasted hawk \nand the rainbow fish\, \nwith the lonely sidewalk \nand the shadows of ourselves\, \nfall in love with the hands \nof the woman wearing yellow \nand the girl who loves chocolate \nand the boy who loves cars \nand the man who makes us want to be \na better version of ourself. \n  \nWe are here to fall into unmanageable love— \nto love beyond reason\, beyond \nfact\, beyond certainty. We are here \nto lose all our ideas about love \nand know it as the next choice \nwe make\, the next word \nwe say\, the next invitation \nwe offer ourselves. \n  \nWe are here to love \nthe world and each other \nthe way whales love water\, \nthe way blue loves a peacock\, \nthe way night blooming jasmine \nloves night. \n  \n–Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer \n* \n  \nI Knew a Woman \n  \nI knew a woman\, lovely in her bones\, \nWhen small birds sighed\, she would sigh back at them;    \nAh\, when she moved\, she moved more ways than one:    \nThe shapes a bright container can contain! \nOf her choice virtues only gods should speak\, \nOr English poets who grew up on Greek \n(I’d have them sing in chorus\, cheek to cheek). \n  \nHow well her wishes went! She stroked my chin\,    \nShe taught me Turn\, and Counter-turn\, and Stand;    \nShe taught me Touch\, that undulant white skin;    \nI nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;    \nShe was the sickle; I\, poor I\, the rake\, \nComing behind her for her pretty sake \n(But what prodigious mowing we did make). \n  \nLove likes a gander\, and adores a goose: \nHer full lips pursed\, the errant note to seize; \nShe played it quick\, she played it light and loose;    \nMy eyes\, they dazzled at her flowing knees;    \nHer several parts could keep a pure repose\,    \nOr one hip quiver with a mobile nose \n(She moved in circles\, and those circles moved). \n  \nLet seed be grass\, and grass turn into hay:    \nI’m martyr to a motion not my own; \nWhat’s freedom for? To know eternity. \nI swear she cast a shadow white as stone.    \nBut who would count eternity in days? \nThese old bones live to learn her wanton ways:    \n(I measure time by how a body sways). \n  \n–Theodore Roethke  (1908-1963) \n * \nOn Valentine’s Day\, Jude Russell played Offenbach’s Barcarolle for us\, sung by Anna Netrebko & Elīna Garanča\, from Tales of Hoffmann. Here’s a link: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0u0M4CMq7uI \n* \n  \nVII \n  \nI don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt\, topaz\, \nor an arrow of carnations that propagates fire: \nI love you as certain dark things are loved\, \nsecretly\, between the shadow and the soul. \n  \nI love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom\, \nbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; \nthanks to your love\, a certain dense fragrance\, \nrisen from the earth\, lives darkly in my body. \n  \nI love you without knowing how\, or when\, or from where; \nI love you simply\, without problems or pride: \nI love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving \n  \nbut this\, where there is no I or you— \nso close that your hand on my chest is my hand\, \nso close that when I fall asleep\, it is your eyes that close. \n  \n—Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)\, from One Hundred Love Sonnets \n* \n  \nRe-Statement of Romance \n  \nThe night knows nothing of the chants of night. \nIt is what it is as I am what I am: \nAnd in perceiving this I best perceive myself \n  \nAnd you. Only we two may interchange \nEach in the other what each has to give. \nOnly we two are one\, not you and night\, \n  \nNor night and I\, but you and I\, alone\, \nSo much alone\, so deeply by ourselves\, \nSo far beyond the casual solitudes\, \n  \nThat night is only the background of our selves\, \nSupremely true each to its separate self\, \nIn the pale light that each upon the other \nthrows. \n  \n–Wallace Stevens  (1879-1955) \n* \n  \nWe Two\, How Long We Were Fool’d \n  \nWe two\, how long we were fool’d\, \nNow transmuted\, we swiftly escape as Nature escapes\, \nWe are Nature\, long have we been absent\, but now we return\, \nWe become plants\, trunks\, foliage\, roots\, bark\, \nWe are bedded in the ground\, we are rocks\, \nWe are oaks\, we grow in the openings side by side\, \nWe browse\, we are two among the wild herds spontaneous as any\, \nWe are two fishes swimming in the sea together\, \nWe are what locust blossoms are\, we drop scent around lanes mornings and evenings\, \nWe are also the coarse smut of beasts\, vegetables\, minerals\, \nWe are two predatory hawks\, we soar above and look down\, \nWe are two resplendent suns\, we it is who balance ourselves orbic and stellar\, we are as two comets\, \nWe prowl fang’d and four-footed in the woods\, we spring on prey\, \nWe are two clouds forenoons and afternoons driving overhead\, \nWe are seas mingling\, we are two of those cheerful waves rolling over each other and interwetting each other\, \nWe are what the atmosphere is\, transparent\, receptive\, pervious\, impervious\, \nWe are snow\, rain\, cold\, darkness\, we are each product and influence of the globe\, \nWe have circled and circled till we have arrived home again\, we two\, \nWe have voided all but freedom and all but our own joy. \n  \n—Walt Whitman  (1819-1892) \n* \n  \nWhen they first meet\, these two amazing young lovers spontaneously compose a sonnet–a sure sign that they are well-matched: \n  \nROMEO \nIf I profane with my unworthiest hand \nThis holy shrine\, the gentle sin is this: \nMy lips\, two blushing pilgrims\, ready stand \nTo smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. \nJULIET \nGood pilgrim\, you do wrong your hand too much\, \nWhich mannerly devotion shows in this; \nFor saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch\, \nAnd palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss. \nROMEO \nHave not saints lips\, and holy palmers too? \nJULIET \nAy\, pilgrim\, lips that they must use in prayer. \nROMEO \nO then\, dear saint\, let lips do what hands do– \nThey pray; grant thou\, lest faith turn to despair. \nJULIET \nSaints do not move\, though grant for prayers’ sake. \nROMEO \nThen move not while my prayer’s effect I take. \n[He kisses her.] \nThus from my lips\, by thine\, my sin is purged. \nJULIET \nThen have my lips the sin that they have took. \nROMEO \nSin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! \nGive me my sin again. \n[She kisses him.] \nJULIET \n                                            You kiss by th’ book. \n  \nAnd…Juliet’s love is absolute: \n  \nJULIET \nMy bounty is as boundless as the sea\, \nMy love as deep. The more I give to thee\, \nThe more I have for both are infinite. \n  \n–William Shakespeare (1564-1616)\, from Romeo and Juliet \n  \nWell\, that’s it for now. \n  \nMay we live in love. \nJohnny \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding/
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DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210228T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210228T180000
DTSTAMP:20260506T012826
CREATED:20210221T183547Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210221T223635Z
UID:1800-1614524400-1614535200@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: A Group Reading of the poem "FACTORY" by Antler  2/28/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nDear Bibliophiles!  \n  \nWe’re going to have a Group Reading of the poem “FACTORY” by Antler\, on Sunday\, February 28th at 3 pm. Here’s the link:  \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/81054571039 \n  \nThis is an amazing poem! It can change the way you see and feel and understand our world. I first read an abridged version in the Winter 1979/80 Issue (No. 24) of the CoEvolution Quarterly. I got a copy of the complete poem from City Lights Books\, which published it as a separate volume.\n \nIt’s a long poem. It’s progenitors include Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself\,” the Chicago poems of Carl Sandburg\, and Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl.”  I have abridged it for this event.\n\n\nHere’s something brief about the poet from Wikipedia:\n\n\n\n  \nAntler (born Brad Burdick); 1946 in Wauwatosa\, Wisconsin\, is an American poet who lives in Wisconsin. \nAmong other honors\, Antler received the Whitman Prize from the Walt Whitman Association\, given to the poet “whose contribution best reveals the continuing presence of Walt Whitman in American poetry\,” in 1985. Antler also was awarded the Witter Bynner prize in 1987. Antler was the poet laureate of the city of Milwaukee\, Wisconsin\, for 2002 and 2003. He is also an advocate for wilderness protection. \n\n  \nHere are just a few passages from the poem to entice you to join us on the 28th: \n  \nThe machines waited for me. \nWaited for me to be born and grow young\, \nFor the totempoles of my personality to be carved…. \n  \nThis is the hall big as a football field…. \nMachines large as locomotives\, \n        louder than loudest rockgroup explosions… \n  \nFrom my work alone 280\,000 lids each day…. \n14 million cans each day \n        from a single factory!…. \n  \nHow can I apologize to primeval shorelines cluttered with beercans? \nShould I say I needed the money? \n….Should I say I’m a spy behind enemy lines….? \nShould I say here’s a free pass \n        to the antique beercan collector’s convention?…. \n  \nI should be paid for wondering if I’m only a defect \n        in the mass-production of zombies!…. \nHow much do I get for watching the sunrise? \nHow much do I get for sleeping under the stars? \n  \nBefore I said—“I will never cringe under the crack \n        of the slavedriver’s whip!” \nNow my job is to murder the oceans! \nNow my job is to poison the air! \nNow my job is to chop down every tree!…. \n  \n….I should be paid to say everyone’s job is enlightenment! \nI should be paid to run naked through the sprinkler \n        the hottest day of summer! \nI should be paid to lie in a canoe \n        and drift over the lake all day!…. \n  \nAll I have to do is stand here \n        and package factories as they come from the press— \nFactories that make cans. \nFactories that make the machines that make cans. \nFactories that make the machines that make the machines \n        that make cans. \nFactories that make factories…. \n  \nFactories that make cuckoo-clock canaries. \nIndustries of canned laughter\, canned applause\, \n        canned music. \nTelephone factories\, television factories\, \n        radio\, stereo\, tape recorder factories\, \n        refrigerator\, stove and toilet factories. \nTelescope factories\, microscope factories\, \n        film\, camera\, movie screen factories\, \n        jukebox\, roulette wheel and slot machine factories. \nIndustries of nuts! Industries of bolts! \nIndustries of bulldozers\, roadgraders\, steamshovels\, \n        cement mixers\, steamrollers\, jackhammers\, \n        pile drivers and wrecking cranes!…. \n  \nWorking your way up to foreman in the insecticide factory! \nWorking your way up to employment manager in the squirtgun factory! \nWorking your way up to the top in the pay toilet factory! \n  \n  \nWell\, that should give you a feeling for the poem. There’s much much more!  \n  \nDON’T MISS THIS!!!   \n  \npeace & love   \nJohnny \n  \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-2-28-21/
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