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SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  9/15/21
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \n  \nI find it interesting how my mind works. \n—Michel Deforge \n   \nSeptember 15\, 2021 \n  \nThe Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue is one year old! Our first dialogue came out on September 15\, 2020. Happy Birthday to us! Nancy had the lovely idea of looking back over the last year\, and remembering together some of what we’ve shared. Here goes!: \n  \nIn segregation we have paintings of different scenes….since putting this wisdom of Thich Nhat Hanh in perspective you see more than a painting. For it opens my eyes to the time\, the painter\, the painter’s years of art skills\, everything down to what makes paint…paint. There are so many miracles that came together to make these paintings! It’s amazing. Now I try to be mindful of what miracles come into place to make people I meet\, foods I eat…. \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  \n—Jake Green \n* \n  \nI am the good man. \nI am the good decisions that I make. \nI am compassion\, I do not fake. \nI am kindness\, I am love. \nI am by choice\, not by chance. \nI am intent\, not happenstance. \nI am in servitude of good. \nI am alive and I am living. \nI am grateful I am. \n  \n—Joseph Opyd \n* \n  \nBy being mindful I have learned that there is value in all situations. While I suffer I learn\, while I’m happy I learn. Mindfulness is our tool to dig through the layers of our minds and be really truly in the moment\, allowing us to remove reaction and embrace each event for what it is truly worth\, “good\,” or “bad.” \n  \n—Cody Dalton \n* \n  \nI find myself\, my soul\, my beliefs and my being saturated in belonging—belonging to a love so deep\, so real\, so unreal. Coming from a life of nothing and going to a life full of love I never knew I could be a part of. A love that I knew was there\, there for others\, but for me…well\, it was only window shopping. \n  \nNow I long to be drenched in the core of my soul\, always and forever drowning in this love\, this love that has pierced my cosmic veil. This love for all\, for beauty\, for the ones who opened so many doors into and onto the mind\, heart and truth that dwells within my being…. \n  \nBlessings\, \nPeace\, \nJoy\, \nUnconditionally \nLove \nAll \nThere is in Life \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \n  \nThe most important thing about life–greater than any discovery\, creation\, or attainment—is the simple fact that we are alive….If we open our eyes and ears we can remember how fantastic it is\, how precious\, how exciting\, how beautiful\, how crazy it is that we are here. We have arrived. We are not only alive but we can be aware of our life and we can appreciate our life. Meditation practice is taking time to appreciate this amazing fact….  \n  \nWhen I say “my body” or “my mind” there is a presumption of separation. There is “I” and there is “my body” and the two are at odds with each other. “I” want to “control my body” or “I” want to “control my mind” but who is this “I” who thinks it can chop pieces off of the whole and then control them?…. \n  \nThe body is not some dog that has to be beaten into submission. But neither is it some dog that has to be well fed and trained. It is the very matrix of my being. It is the finest intelligence\, awareness\, the consequence of a billion years of evolution. It perceives the world and it simultaneously creates the world. There is no brain without the body…and no heart\, either. \n  \nIn Buddhism they say the first prerequisite for enlightenment is a human birth.  \n  \nThere’s a famous Zen story in which a person brags that his master can walk on water. Another student says\, “My teacher can also perform miracles. When he is tired he sleeps; when he is hungry he eats.” To me this story has infinite implications and ramifications.  \n  \nWhat is purity?—what is purification? Meister Eckhart said\, “To be pure is to have no thoughts.” \n  \nHow to have no thoughts? Listen\, listen\, listen.  \n  \nI feel that “tapas”—purification—is listening\, with all the connotations of that beautiful word. When I am listening\, there is no division. If I am listening and the voice of division arises\, it is just another sound like the song of the bird or the beep beep beep of the truck backing up…it has no more “authority” than that.  \n  \nIf I listen\, I can sleep when I am tired and eat when I am hungry. \n  \n—Howard Thoresen \n* \n  \nI do truly believe that all humans are worthy of being loved\, so I guess that includes myself. Dang it! I know the best thing I can do for myself is continue to live a healthy clean life\, love others\, and surround myself with like-minded people….My hope is that someday I will be a successful productive member of society\, and when that child inside comes calling I can reassure him that we have the tools to live a healthy life\, and everything is going to be okay…. \n  \nLove can come from some very unexpected places when you least expect it and you may need it the most. It is an amazing thing that people are out there that care for their fellow humans. Even when the love might not be directed at you personally\, to see others loving others can have a huge impact on people. Reading all of your words and the newsletters has been great. When I see that type of thing it makes me want to be a better\, more loving and compassionate person. It is infectious. \n  \nI recently lost my father who was killed in a tragic motor vehicle accident. He was my rock and I was so looking forward to spending time with him when I got home. I tried to be strong at first\, but I started to slip into a very lonely dark place within a month. Nothing made sense and I felt fearful. Then I started to get unexpected support from the community where I grew up. A friend from the past reached out to me and we have been speaking ever since. Their love and support has seen me through the worst of it\, and I am feeling excited again about going home and continuing my father’s legacy. Love is a beautiful thing and it knows when you need it most\, how others’ compassion and understanding can bring you through dark times and make you feel hopeful again. Neat! Let’s all keep loving one another for the sake of those that may not know they need it. \n  \n—Aaron Gilbert \n* \n  \nI have taken up golf in my old age\, just by accident\, since I live a few blocks from a golf course\, I thought I would try it just to see what it was like. That was last spring. I quickly found that I loved the game. It is a practice of putting mind and body together in a challenging physical ritual\, and at it’s best there is a mystical experience to be had….fleetingly. \n  \nYesterday I played 18 holes particularly badly and came home feeling very frustrated. Of course I went out this morning and practiced\, and did a little better\, almost certainly because I wasn’t trying too hard to do well. \n  \nThen I came home\, turned on my computer\, and read Beginner’s Mind. It came like a ray of light that if I can play with beginner’s mind\, I will no longer get frustrated. I will probably play better too\, although that won’t matter any more (yes it will). \n  \n—Ken Margolis \n* \n  \nAll life\, particularly including prison life\, is often filled with ambiguities and heartfelt remorse for past actions and a need for new beginnings. \n  \nZen philosophy speaks to this concept: Always be a beginner\, always start with a fresh mind. Few concepts may be as important to success  in prison reform as new beginnings. \n  \nPeace and Love\, \n  \n—Jerry Smith \n* \n  \nOnce again\, Thây emphasizes that now is all that is and everything I need is already present\, here in and/or with me now. When I go looking out there (outside myself)—to others\, to the past\, to any possible future\, to things to places—I can never find peace\, whatever I am seeking. When I begin to turn inward\, embracing what is within me already\, I find peace\, freedom\, happiness: nirvana. It’s all right there\, just waiting for me to find it\, as it always was…. \n  \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…. \n  \nWouldn’t that be wonderful? If we could get many to meditate and peace were to spontaneously erupt. Then\, as a result of all the peaceful people and the contagious nature of peace\, that Peace broke out all over the world. What would that world look like? Would it be astonishing or amazing? Or\, would we all\, as active meditators\, know it was what we expected to occur? \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \nAll My Relations \n  \nI want to thank all my relations \nfor this chance to be on Earth \nin her time of flourishing; to thank  \nthe First People of this place\, the  \nMultnomah people\, the Clackamas\, \nMolalla\, Tualatin\, & Chinook\, to honor  \ntheir sovereignty in long and continuing  \nrelation\, still teaching us how we might \nbe here together; to thank my mother and father\,  \nmoon and sun\, for setting me forth before  \ntheir own passing on; to thank my grandmother \nwho listened to me so eloquently I learned \nto listen to my own heart and mind\, to find \nstories and songs there; to thank my family  \nand friends\, and all citizens and travelers  \nwho study and work for deeper kinship  \nin this place\, with one another\, and with  \nall creatures\, one Earth\, visible\, palpable\,  \nfragile\, intricate\, resonant\, in need of our \nbetter stories. I want to thank you  \nwho have gathered to receive what I have  \ncarried here — in hope that something \nI have may meet something you need\, \nso all our relations may be strengthened \nfor the life we live together. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nFor me\, it’s been a struggle my whole life to just “sit there” and not “be” with so many things constantly on my mind. It’s been nice to just be in the moment and focus on form\, breathing and not everything else. For me to truly be there in that moment I cease all those fleeting thoughts for those 30 minutes every other day. Then\, when I’m done\, I enjoy the practice so much I begin doing stretches while practicing mindfulness. This has become my favorite part of my days lately\, and it’s very peaceful. I encourage everyone to\, at the very least\, stretch and practice just being. \n  \n—Jeff Kuehner \n* \n  \nMy friends\, I must be honest. I have written this paper six times over! \n  \nI started out writing about good and evil\, page 156. Setting out\, I had in mind an ideal of vanquishing good\, evil and the universal duality….But I lost! \n  \nDuality has successfully wriggled its little fingers into every last nook and cranny; it won’t be going anywhere soon. And after thwarting my attempts at the highest level\, it opened my eyes…. \n  \nDuality seems to offer a reasonable solution\, and offers the key to any that seek. \n  \nCould co-existing be the harmony we seek\, could it shine light on the hidden path? The wonder of wonders keeps me wondering still… \n  \nI have been limiting myself for a very long time\, but\, thankfully\, we all can change! \n  \nI’ve come to the conclusion that indifference will never do. Balance\, on the other hand\, is a very different story. When using both the positive and the negative\, you allow them to cancel each other out…. \n  \nI’ll make my last stand with a final quote from the Hsin Hsin Ming: “…to accept everything is to be enlightened…” \n  \npeace & love & everything else \n  \n—Joshua Barnes \n* \n  \nSo often when an emotion arises that I don’t want to have I bury it. But what happens when there is no more room for them? \n  \nThis practice of mindful breathing to calm the storm or just wait it out without incident is the key\, for me\, to getting through many a bad day. \n  \nThere are many forms of breathing. The point I am trying to make is: let’s just take a look at what is going on in the inside of us\, grab ahold of it and examine it under a practice of mindfulness\, calm breathing\, and then maybe we can get a better understanding of what it is that makes us tick…or get ticked off. \n  \n—Brandon Gillespie \n* \n  \nMy homework for today: study my distress and dissatisfaction. Doctors\, nurses\, and therapists use this format to diagnose physical/mental ailments\, the SOAP format. Bhikkhu Analayo recommends applying the same format to our distress. Identify the problem by its (S) subjective and (O) objective components\, (A) assess the cause\, and then make a (P) plan. My problem today and every day is that I WANT THINGS TO BE DIFFERENT than they actually are. That person shouldn’t be rude. The rules shouldn’t be so arbitrary. The soup should not be so hot\, and it definitely should never be cold. The subjective is my experience of distress/dissatisfaction/discontentment. The objective\, the cause of my distress\, is my desire for things to be different. (Notice the cause is NOT the “errant” situation!) The assessment is that I really need to learn how to accept things as they are OR be more effective in making necessary changes (complaining is not changing). The plan\, using the jargon of this meditation tradition\, is the Eightfold Path\, or learning to behave differently\, shift my mental focus\, and learn to understand how the world actually works\, as opposed to how I fantasize it works. YTH #7\, 19\, and 317 relate to this. \n  \n—Shad Alexander \n* \n  \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  \nHappy early 70th birthday! As my present to you\, I’ve written a poem in your honor: \n  \nAFTER \n  \nAnd you may find that you have nothing \nto say\, and that’s okay. The bird \n  \nyou pictured now because that’s the way \nthe brain works \n  \nand the concentric circles of its song— \nthey are always there. Jung defined \n  \nthe unconscious as everything \nyou have forgotten\, everything \n  \nyou’re not currently thinking about\, \nand everything you do not know. \n  \nThat narrows it down. \nSo the conscious mind is really \n  \nonly very little of what goes on— \nlike a lightbulb compared to the dawn. \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nI so desire to be one with nature\, to be in the woods\, smell the fresh air and hear only nature. To touch Mother Earth and for her to touch me\, feeling her embrace. It has been way too long for me feeling pure nature\, and reading #358 at first made me feel sad for what I have been missing\, but then I read it again\, seeing that “Whenever she sees us suffering\, she will protect us.” In this moment I am in now\, she is protecting me with the knowledge that soon I will have the chance to feel the woods and her embrace once again. I cannot wait for that day…. \n  \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  \n—Joshua Underhill \n* \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* \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  \nEveryone who meditates probably hears about some far-off experience called “enlightenment” that’s had only after years of heroic meditation sitting in a cave. When you read this verse\, you might think that’s what’s being described\, but I don’t think the author intended that. In a certain sense\, there’s something in us that’s always focused\, never distracted. It was working when you first opened your eyes this morning and looked out on your world. It was a wordless awareness that heard every thought you’ve had today\, and it monitored your heartbeat and your respiration when you were deeply asleep. If you look for it\, you can’t see it\, and you can’t say anything about it\, other than that it Is…. \n  \n—Andy Larkin \n* \n  \nIn meditation I was made aware of the fact that I have forgotten to smile…for quite a long time. In fact\, I have been unable (chosen not) to read\, think about\, write about\, many things. I have been unwilling to communicate in many ways\, including with myself\, or the larger consciousness. I feel a failure (no lectures\, please). Realizing that I had stopped taking my “smiling medicine\,” I became aware of a song I wrote as part of a song writing challenge here at DRCI a while back. I share the lyrics despite the fact that I believe that song lyrics often don’t translate well to silent poetry. So\, if any of you are “anti-rhymers”—read no further. Rhyme facilitates meter\, which combines in powerful ways with melody & harmony\, in my not so humble opinion. Maybe sometime I will be able to share this in its entirety\, it is the best advice I can offer myself & others. Thank you so much for The Open Road in both forms\, much anticipated\, highly appreciated. \n  \nLearning To Smile \n  \nWithout a smile\, I walk a mile \nSmilin’ just not my style \nI miss my friends\, I miss my wife \nI miss my outside life \n  \nBut there’s beauty to see \nAir to breathe \nThoughts to think and hear and be \n  \nA smile overcomes all grief and pain \nIt takes me home again \nSo I force a smile\, walk that mile \nSmilin’ might become my style \n  \nBecause there’s beauty to see \nAir to breathe \nThoughts to think and hear and be \n  \nSo\, check out this smile\, it’ll be here a while \nIt helps me through this trial \nMy spirit lifts\, the smile grips \nMy mood and won’t let go \n  \nSo there’s beauty to see \nAir to breathe \nThoughts to think and hear and be \n  \nI’m alive\, I’m headed home \nWhen I smile I’m free \n  \n—T. String Clements \n© 2019 \n* \n  \nGreetings to this worthy sangha….  \n  \nThere can be many ways to meditate\, but the paths all converge at the same goal. What is that goal?    \n  \nAn inner quietude\, an inner fortitude\, an inner gratitude\, an inner clarity\, an inner affection\, an affection both that we have tasted from others and from Nature\, and an affection that we have within us as a treasure to share with others. This manifests as universal good will. These are all primary indicators of successful meditation…. \n  \n  Sitting meditation is not for everyone.  Sometimes in the case of trauma survivors\, sitting and observing one’s thoughts can be too triggering.  The state and fruits of “Meditation” can be attained not only through sitting\, but also if done whole-heartedly through\, among others things – walking\, running\, dancing\, drawing\, singing\, cooking\, conversing\, writing\, communing with nature\, laughing\, sharing affection\, or simply taking a moment to feel comfortable in one’s own skin and feel open to what arises. Then the practice becomes to be prepared to treat everything which arises (within and without) with generosity\, uprightness\, patience\, enthusiasm\, concentration\, and  wisdom. \n  \nI invite and welcome any additions\, corrections\, questions or comments from the sangha. I will be happy to respond and continue the conversation. With Love and Best Wishes to all… \n  \n—Peter Oppenheimer \n* \n  \nMeditation and Mindfulness are simply the Art of paying attention. This is the most wonderful time of year\, when we can first take a walk outside after a cold winter and enjoy seeing the new life that comes\, without any need but the energy of life. The pink azaleas have bloomed\, and the magnificent magnolias. The ground is polka dotted after a wind with plum blossoms. This week on my son’s farm\, three sheep have given birth to one lamb each. Each one a surprise because their winter wool hides the mamas’ full bellies. Surprise and awe are two of the gifts of a happy life…. \n  \nLast week\, I went to Walla Walla to help take care of my grand kids while their parents worked there for a few days. It was joyful and freeing to be out after covid vaccines\, no masks necessary in the outdoors. The bare hills and the towering rock walls with giant wind mills are a huge contrast to our home landscape in Portland in the cedar trees and lush spring greens and reds of rhododendrons\, yellow tulips\, orange poppies.  I hadn’t been on I-84 going East for more than a year. The last time was visiting at Two Rivers. On our return we came past the prison. And I was filled with the feeling of being home and homesick at the same time. It was hard not to be able to come inside.  So we stopped\, went down to the river and I meditated with you\, just breathing the same air. Being at ease. And I pictured the banner that hangs in the trees at Plum Village when one arrives on retreat.  It blows gently in the breeze with Thay’s calligraphy that says\, “You have arrived. You are home.” It was a wonderful moment of being home.  We are always arriving\, right here\, right now. This was most refreshing\, and I felt grateful for having been welcomed there always\, in that magical\, loving dialogue group.    \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \n white orchid \nWaxy petals unfurl slowly against the tropical earth pale insects burrow in drawn by fragrance escaping molecule by molecule through soft loam surrounding the tendril of whitened stem piercing soil branching off a flower then another creeping underground this life unseen unheeded above ground our life drawing sustenance from the dark explosion    \n  \n—Deborah Buchanan \n* \n  \nWalking is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. But we often find it difficult or tedious. We drive a few blocks rather than walk in order to “save time.” When we understand the interconnectedness of our body and our mind\, the simple act of walking like the Buddha can feel supremely easy and pleasurable.  (Thich Nhat Hanh\, from Your True Home) \n  \nLet’s start with that first sentence: “Walking is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other.” I said I was not going to dwell on my foot surgery any longer\, but this short passage just spoke to me with force. \n  \nThis ‘recovery’ from a supposedly minor operation is taking much longer\, with a few more uncertain results possible\, than I was led to expect. Complications\, infection\, antibiotics\, more doctor appointments and different approaches have been accompanied by a range of emotions on my part. Eager anticipation\, determination\, trust\, puzzlement\, frustration\, doubt\, fear\, elation\, discouragement\, encouragement—you name it\, I’ve felt it. Acceptance hasn’t yet set in… \n  \nSo since February 25\, “walking is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other” has been a dream—and a mockery. I dream of the moment I can get my swollen foot into a shoe and then put one foot in front of the other\, but the result is that I treasure the thought of that simple act. Is that what it takes to treasure life? Why is it that we have such difficulty appreciating these present moments\, these simple acts\, and just hurry through them to get to the ‘next thing?’ \n  \nThe gift in all of this is that I have slowed down\, learned deep appreciation for the simple act of walking (and plenty of other things)\, learned thoughtfulness\, awareness and appreciation\, and come to cherish the interconnectedness of my mind and body\, which this situation has certainly amplified. \n  \nThay likes to invite people to smile and appreciate a non-toothache. A simple practice.  Thank you for reminding us. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nTakes a heap of meaning to make a body happy \n  \nThere have been complaints these days about meaninglessness. \n  \nThe spiritual end of our civilization seems to have broken down. We were originally set up to be monotheistic\, and not polytheistic. The gods were banished and all space taken by Jehovah on his golden throne. That worked through the Middle Ages\, but the Industrial Revolution put a spoke in the wheel. Almost unnoticed\, the gods started coming back. \n  \nThere are those who would turn Jehovah out and bring the gods back. Monotheism\, polytheism\, whatever. The important thing is to live a meaningful spiritual life. But a lot of Christians\, Muslims and Jews are invested in monotheism\, which is the idea that if there is one god there can’t be many. Logic won’t allow it. Others say that religion needs to be founded on paradox\, in which case\, there can be one god or many\, depending on your visionary angle. \n  \n—Charles Erickson \n* \n  \nlet’s pretend \n  \ninstead of pretending that we are afraid \nthat we must improve \nthat we have enemies \nthat the future will arrive someday \n  \nlet’s pretend everything is sacred \npretend this is Paradise \npretend every moment is precious \npretend we love everyone \n  \npretend our joy knows no bounds \npretend we are the whole wide world \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nRhyming With Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \nOnce upon a cloudy day \na wandering poet lost his way \na busy yard-sale he passed by \ndrew him back\, he wondered why \nBrowsing through a battered trunk \nhe found a book by a Buddhist monk \nThich Nhat Hanh was the writer’s name \ninterconnection\, his basic game \nthe young man skimmed in search of clues \na garden of thoughts\, so many to choose \nthe path being offered was simple but steep \nand spelling that name\, a Grand Canyon leap… \n  \n—short excerpt from a poem by Nick Eldredge \n* \n  \nMindful \nEvery day \nI see or hear \nsomething \nthat more or less \n  \nkills me \nwith delight\, \nthat leaves me \nlike a needle \n  \nin the haystack \nof light. \nIt was what I was born for— \nto look\, to listen\, \n  \nto lose myself \ninside this soft world— \nto instruct myself \nover and over \n  \nin joy\, \nand acclamation. \nNor am I talking  \nabout the exceptional\, \n  \nthe fearful\, the dreadful\, \nthe very extravagant— \nbut of the ordinary\, \nthe common\, the very drab\, \n  \nthe daily presentations. \nOh\, good scholar\, \nI say to myself\, \nhow can you help \n  \nbut grow wise \nwith such teachings \nas these— \nthe untrimmable light \n  \nof the world\, \nthe ocean’s shine\, \nthe prayers that are made \nout of grass? \n  \n—poem by Mary Oliver\, shared by Ronni Lacroute \n* \n  \nThese days I practice my mindfulness most often out in nature where I’ve come to realize all things carry the same spark I carry in my own heart and each thing I observe becomes “the best part.” There are no saints…or sinners\, no self-righteous…no condemned\, everything is on equal terms. I’ve concluded not only do I belong to the human tribe\, I also belong to the life tribe\, and strive to conduct myself accordingly. \n  \nI thank all who have touched my life in such a positive\, kind\, and loving way—you now live in me! \n  \nAnd I will not forget you. \n  \nPeace and love \n—Abe Green \n* \n  \nYou are equally as beautiful as the universe. \n—tag on a Yogi Tea bag \n  \n(Friends on “the outside” can access the complete archive of Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogues on the Open Road website by clicking on “EVENTS.” Then\, keep clicking on “Previous Events.” You can also access the peace\, love\, happiness & understanding archive in this way.)
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-9-15-21/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210930
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211014
DTSTAMP:20260427T113412
CREATED:20210930T165714Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T125408Z
UID:2386-1632960000-1634169599@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  9/30/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nThe heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of….We know the truth not only by the reason\, but by the heart. \n  \n—Blaise Pascal  (1623-1662) \n  \nSeptember 30\, 2021 \n  \nRocky sent this contribution to “peace\, love\, happiness & understanding” from segregation: \n  \n  \nHEART! \n  \nHey\, I’ve been thinking a lot of the heart and trying to determine why it has so much control over each of us. Scientifically\, I understand how the influx of adrenaline and hormones—either oxytocin or testosterone—affect the heart chemically. \n  \nWhat I want to find out is why it is the place where love\, joy\, pain\, fear\, sorrow and tears seem to come from. Is the heart a doorway to where we come from before we are born? Or is it a keyhole where we (“our soul”) goes? If our heart is filled with only love\, it feels like what heart should feel like. \n  \nI feel in my heart all the people I love\, loved\, or will love. Is it strange that when I place the ones I love or despise in my heart I envision them all in robes\, with no shoes? My heart is a sacred place. I assume it looks much like a battlefield\, scarred\, broken\, scorched earth\, with spots of pure beauty. What does your heart look like in your mind? \n  \nThe depiction of R. W. Emerson’s “oversoul” has stitched its image upon my soul. I can feel my life and all of its emotions flowing into me from that other\, unknown place. But it flows into my heart\, not my eyes\, not my poor wounded mind. No\, my oversoul is flooded into my heart. Those of you who have this ailment will be of like-minded understanding. Our tears come from our heart\, the heart being our center of…all of us. \n  \nI feel that under the right circumstances I could live well without my mind\, among others that are willing to be of like-heartedness. The ancient Chinese believed that the heart was the source of all our cognition. I do not think they were wrong. Albert Einstein believed our heart was where mankind would find true timelessness\, or a wormhole into time/space—much like my thought of the keyhole to heaven. \n  \nWhen we truly\, deeply love each other\, I feel we are as close to a heaven on earth as we’re ever going to get\, and\, with that said\, the reverse could be said—that to hate is hell on earth. I would prefer to love everyone\, and not allow the poison of hate to stain any more of my being—to live in love\, joy\, and\, yes\, I consider even some pain and suffering to be alive in love\, in life\, to accept the duality of all things and understand that we love the circle of all things. \n  \nI honestly believe my heart is a hobo\, a vagabond\, a transient. My heart is happiest homeless. I do want love and am good at loving…too good\, though. Too deep and too long. I keep the love for others long after they have forgot to love me. Which means my heart is at home in the gutter\, or dog house\, or kicked. That is why it is a battlefield of life. \n  \nHoward brought up Knausgaard’s epic My Struggle\, and “the body’s gentleman’s agreement with death\,” and the steps of irrevocability with the pooling of blood in the heart. Dying of a broken heart was also discussed by us\, which in a morbid way is in my top 3 ways to go now. The love and passion of it brings tears from my heart to my eyes. To love someone so much that you follow them into death…very romantic. Pure love. \n  \nI once read somewhere\, or perhaps someone told me\, that Shakespeare wrote the great works with one hand upon his heart. So I tried it…well\, this all came out. So\, does it work to write to the rhythm of a beating heart? I feel that it is in the eye of the beholder\, or in the sinews of how a writing touches your heart.  \n  \nWhat touches your heart to tears? The vision of a single mom or dad weeping over the gift of a fine meal for kids? Or the fact that you’ve stopped shooting H\, and it’s been a year? You were tempted and walked away. Or those last few moments so precious you did not get to spend with a loved one who died of cancer? What touches your heartstrings? Don’t be afraid…let it touch them. \n  \nLet us all speak of the heart\, here\, now\, with those we love. \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson  9-19-21 \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!” \n  \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* \n  \nThis is a slightly edited transcription from an interview with Alokananda Roy\, who has choreographed large dance productions in Indian prisons\, which then toured the country!: \n  \nLove Therapy in My Second Home \n  \nWhen a child is born\, he or she is like a fresh flower. No child is born a criminal or an offender. Things happen for various reasons. Who are we to judge? We have not been in that situation. I have been through a journey with such people\, and all I did was treat them like a human being and not an untouchable. The rest is history. \n  \nI was walking into a man’s world. Girls are fewer in number. I have never planned anything in my life. Honestly speaking\, I never felt I have to achieve anything. I just followed my heart. I went in as a guest to the jail\, which is now called a “correctional home.” I couldn’t imagine it will transform me\, and I never thought my spirit will find its freedom in the jail. \n  \nIn every adverse period of my life\, dancing rejuvenated me. That’s what I wanted to share with them—to be involved in something creative. But it is a fact that at other times it is very depressing in a place like jail. You cannot be happy in a jail. Nobody wants to stay there. \n  \nIt was on the International Women’s Day\, and I was invited as a guest. The girls wanted to learn dance\, and I readily agreed\, because I love challenges\, because I didn’t know what it was like to be with these people who are shunned by the society.  \n  \nWhen I was coming out\, I noticed the boys\, and I really felt sorry for their mothers—being a mother myself. I felt any one of them could have been my child\, and I wanted to do something. \n  \nJail is basically a place of curiosity for people outside. It’s a very intriguing place\, very different from the outside world. When I first went in I was equally curious\, like others. I never thought I will be so emotionally involved—not to this extent. Instinctively\, I asked Mr. Sharma\, “Can I also teach the boys?” He was surprised\, because people are afraid to go there\, or to interact with them. Many go there out of curiosity\, but dance is something which is unheard of and unthinkable in the jail. I have to admit that Mr. Sharma was a great\, great\, great support. \n  \nThe energy was not only the physical energy—when we are dancing\, it affects our body and mind and soul. We don’t do it consciously\, it just happens. While teaching them\, I realized why we feel good when we dance. \n  \nAlthough the girls were very excited\, the boys were not. They thought dancing was being feminine. And I did think that they would feel this way\, so I started with martial dance\, and I told them that it was like karate\, kung fu. So\, probably they could relate to that. We started with martial dance\, and then the vibrant folk dances of India. And they started enjoying it\, because the rhythm they had lost in life was coming back\, in their body\, their mind\, their soul\, their thoughts. And not only the boys who first came in\, others started joining in\, and I had a team of 60 boys and 10 girls. \n  \nWhile they were rehearsing for these dances—the folk dances\, the martial dances—they started making the props\, the costumes\, which they never thought they could. So\, all their latent talents\, which were lying submerged\, were surfacing. All their artistic talents were coming out. They didn’t even know that they had an artist in them. \n  \nWhatever they wish to convey\, they write it down on a piece of paper. Once a boy wrote\, “I don’t remember my mother so much\, but now when I shut my eyes and think of her I see your face.” I was so touched. I did nothing special for him. Just that little bit made such a difference. \n  \nTell me who has not made any mistake in life\, big or small. There are so many offenders walking free in our society. Nobody points a finger at them. The moment you walk into the jail\, you are stamped\, and you have to live with that stigma. \n  \nAs they were changing their attitude\, their body language\, I thought of doing Valmiki Pratibha\, because it was their story: the transformation of a criminal into a sage. And I found all my Valmikis there\, and it has created history. \n  \nWhen somebody dies in the family of one of them\, we all sit around and pray for the departed soul. We don’t even know who they are\, but they’re all brothers\, sisters\, and they’re my children. So\, we all sit together and pray. They have also learned to share the sorrows of others. It’s all a bonding\, a brotherhood beyond boundaries. Never ever\, anywhere in the world\, as far as I know—I may be wrong—do prisoners go out of the prison\, perform all over the country\, and they come back to the jail. Nobody has ever even imagined to escape\, although they had every opportunity to do so.  \n  \nAnd gradually\, with time\, there was a peculiar bonding\, when I started becoming a mother figure to them\, and they called me “Ma\,” or “Mother.” It was such a beautiful feeling\, because there was so much innocence\, so much love\, so much sincerity in that bonding\, that connection that we had. And gradually they became a part of my life. I realize why. They also told me nobody touches them. They always said\, “Ma\, you do what you want\, but don’t leave us. Be with us always\, all our life.” \n  \nYou see\, all I did was channelize their energy—the unused youthful energy that they had—in a positive way. And it worked. They were doing so well\, that I thought: “Why don’t we have a little performance within the walls of the jail?” Because I never ever imagined—we never imagined—they will go and conquer the whole country. \n  \nWithin the jail\, there are boys and girls from different religious backgrounds. After doing Valmiki Pratibha\, and when they all actually became brothers\, there was no barrier\, no religious barrier. Each one was celebrating the others’ festivals together.  \n  \nSince we started this journey\, many boys and girls have been released\, and they’re all in touch with me. Many of my boys come to meet me with the produce of their farms. And believe me\, none of them—not one—have gone back to the dark world. They’re all well settled in their own way. Many of them do not come from privileged backgrounds\, but they’re all settled happily with their families. Sometimes they call me when they get a new job. Sometimes the call me\, even send a train ticket\, when they get married. They’ll call me when they have a child. I have a very happy family all around me\, and I’m a proud mother of hundreds of children. \n  \nWhen you have children\, you also have grandchildren. There are so many children who live with their mothers in the jails\, because they have nowhere to go\, nobody to take care of them at home. Such children live like prisoners as well. \n  \nIt is so unfortunate! I feel like a criminal myself: “Aren’t we crushing their childhood? Aren’t we killing their growth\, the normal growth of a child?” They call me “Grandmother”: “Didun.” I felt it was my responsibility to at least try and give them some kind of a normal childhood—where they will go to school in uniform\, they will have proper classes\, extracurricular activities\, they will see cartoons\, they will have a library\, they will have toys and a playground to play around\, like any other child. Is it too much to ask for\, for a child who has not sinned\, to have a normal childhood? That’s how Heart Print was born. \n  \nFirst it was just boarding\, where I had brought some of them whose parents were in jail. Now some of them go to an English Medium school. And the others\, who live with their mothers till age six\, have a little Montessori which is called Heart Print. Their mothers have their fingerprints there. My little grandchildren will leave their heart print behind when they go to a better place\, a better school\, after age six. That is also our responsibility: that they go to a place where they can adjust themselves like any other child\, outside. \n  \nOn 7th of January\, 2018\, early morning\, my boys from the prison crossed another milestone in life. I think they created another history. For the past ten years they have been performing in public auditoriums\, where they were onstage and the audience was in the auditorium. There was still a fine line. But that morning they mingled with 12\,000 marathon runners\, and they ran the marathon with them. There was no wall\, no barrier. It was pure joy of inclusiveness. \n  \nSo\, I’m proud to be their mother. I’m proud of them\, because they have not only made a difference to my life. I think if the society really highlights their transformation\, many people in the world will want to be transformed\, and see the light. \n  \n—Alokananda Roy \n* \n  \nHere’s a link to the YouTube video\, which gives a more vivid picture of Alokananda and what she has done in Indian prisons:  \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OspzzO7gAiw \n* \n  \nLike Rocky\, Kim wants us to share our stories: \n  \n  \n                                        Splinters \n  \nIt’s the little things that get you. Me? Everything’s going  \ngreat—except I have this splinter at the tip of my index finger  \nI can’t get out. Whatever I do I get this twinge that stops me. \nI meet the world with pain. \n  \nDo you carry festering sorrow\, a weight of guilt\, a habit of fear\,  \ninvisible anguish darkening days? On the street we pass not  \nknowing\, not showing\, nursing all our precious troubles\, humming \nas we hide splinters at the heart. \n  \nI have an idea: let’s tell how it is and why\, stories of how we came \nto carry what we carry\, how we suffer what we must. And hey\, \nlook up there\, where the tops of the trees are all \nreaching for the sky. \n  \n—Kim Stafford
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-9-30-21/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20211003T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20211003T170000
DTSTAMP:20260427T113412
CREATED:20210930T172637Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20210930T173056Z
UID:2392-1633273200-1633280400@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Looking Glass Bookstore  10/3/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nBeloved Bibliophiles \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFor Sunday\, October 3rd\, at 3 pm (PDT)\, Bill Kloster and Katie Radditz will guide us on a magical mystery tour of Portland’s legendary Looking Glass Bookstore. This is a SPECIAL EVENT! \n\n\nDon’t miss it!\n\n\n\nHere’s the (new) link:\n\n\n\nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/86949399028\n\n\n\n\n\npeace & love\n\n\n\nJohnny\n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-looking-glass-bookstore-10-3-21/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20211014
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211028
DTSTAMP:20260427T113412
CREATED:20211017T202714Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T125647Z
UID:2400-1634169600-1635379199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  10/14/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nThe Ethiopians say that their gods are flat-nosed and black\, \nWhile the Thracians say that theirs have blue eyes and red hair. \nIf cattle or horses or lions had hands and could draw\, \nAnd could sculpt like men\, then the horses would draw their gods \nLike horses\, and cattle like cattle; and each would shape \nBodies of gods in their own likeness. \n  \n― Xenophanes  (c. 570-478 B.C.E) \n  \nOctober 14\, 2021 \n  \nJohnny’s Brief Guide to Ancient Greece \n  \nWARNING!: My mind tends to meander. This essay might do likewise. \n  \nAbout five years ago\, or so\, I chanced to read “The Suppliants” by Aeschylus. Written about 463 B.C.E.\, it is one of the earliest plays there is. In it\, a group of women have come from North Africa to Argos\, in Greece\, seeking asylum\, to escape being forced into marriages against their will. When I read it\, I thought: “Wow! That’s still happening: women are coming to Greece as refugees from North Africa to escape from forced marriages—among other things.” And I thought it would be cool to do a production of “The Suppliants” in one of those big amphitheaters that you see pictures of. \n  \nIt was one of those fantasies that last for a while\, until other ideas come along and crowd it out. \n  \nThen\, earlier this year\, a Greek actor and director named Stratis Panourios was a guest speaker for the Shakespeare in Prisons Conference. I saw his talk online\, \n (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuKvkE_cZDk&t=32s)\,  \nand a week later participated in an online conversation with him. He had directed a production of Shakespeare’s play “The Tempest” at a prison in Greece. He is smart\, funny\, engaging—I liked him immediately. \n (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zMZaUUW_Xs&t=64s.)  \nI emailed him my idea about doing “The Suppliants” of Aeschylus and including stories of contemporary refugee women in the performance. He sent me a “call for submissions” form from an arts festival: 2023 Eleusis European Capital of Culture. \n  \nWe submitted a proposal\, along with three other collaborators: Zeina Daccache\, Vassiliki Katrivanou and Alokananda Roy. Some prison friends will remember Zeina. She is a drama therapist who came to our production of “Twelve Angry Men” at Two Rivers prison\, in 2012. Zeina had directed a production of the same play at Roumieh prison\, and made a great documentary film about it called “12 Angry Lebanese.”  \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tf5akVvHhx4&t=29s.)  \nVassiliki lives in Athens and has worked on refugee issues as a member of the Greek Parliament. She currently works for the Greek Council on Refugees.  \n(https://openroadpdx.com/team/vassiliki-katrivanou/.)  \nShe made a documentary film with Bushra Azzouz called “Women of Cyprus.” She came to our production of “Midsummer Night’s Dream” at Two Rivers in 2010\, and took photos for the film Bushra was shooting. (That film is nearing completion\, and should be released in 2022.) I met Alokananda Roy in 2018 at the Shakespeare in Prisons Conference in San Diego. She had directed big dance-theater productions at a prison in India\, and the performers had taken the shows on tour to theaters in many Indian cities.  \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OspzzO7gAiw&t=1s.)  \nOur Dream Team is still waiting to hear if we will be included in the festival. Keep your fingers crossed! \n  \nI got very excited about going to Greece. When acting in or directing a play\, I like to do research on the background of the story—the time and place when the play was written\, and also the time and place in which the story is set. Ancient Greece is a treasure trove! For the past several months I’ve been reading about Greek Drama and Philosophy and Culture and Religion and Literature and Mythology—everything written by a Greek or about the Greeks that I can get my hands on. \n  \nThe Western tradition of Literature begins with the Iliad and Odyssey of Homer. In Athens\, in the Fifth Century B.C.E\, the poets Aeschylus\, Sophocles\, Euripides and Aristophanes began our tradition of theater. Our philosophical tradition begins with the Greeks\, notably Socrates\, Plato and Aristotle\, in Athens. The Athenians were the first city-state to attempt Democracy as a form of government. And then there are all those strange myths that have inspired poets\, painters\, playwrights and psychiatrists since the Renaissance. Shakespeare wrote a long poem called “Venus and Adonis.” “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is set in Athens\, just before the wedding of Theseus and Hippolyta. Botticelli painted “The Birth of Venus”!  \n(https://www.uffizi.it/en/artworks/birth-of-venus.)  \nYeats and Rilke both wrote poems about Leda and the Swan. Homer’s Odyssey inspired James Joyce’s Ulysses and Nikos Kazantzakis’ epic The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel. Stephen Berkoff’s 1980 play “Greek” is a modern re-telling of Sophocles’s “Oedipus Tyrannus.” Lee Breuer’s 1989 musical “The Gospel at Colonus” is based on Sophocles’ “Oedipus at Colonus.”  \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZyQP_zrD2U.)  \nIn 2017\, Nancy and I saw a great production of Mary Zimmerman’s play “The Odyssey” at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival\, in Ashland. Sigmund Freud postulated an “Oedipus Complex” to explain why human life is such a tragedy. Et cetera. Et cetera. \n  \nAt a tender age\, I got involved in Theater and also I went off to India to study Philosophy\, so I have always been intrigued with Greece\, where these things began in the West. I fell in love with Socrates\, and sat in on classes taught by the great Greek scholar-philosopher Gregory Vlastos at the University of California at Berkeley\, when he was giving lectures in preparation for writing his book Socrates: Ironist and Moral Philosopher. I got a CETA grant back in 1977\, and the first play I ever directed was Choēphór0i\, “The Libation Bearers\,” of Aeschylus. I’ve played the part of the blind seer Tiresias in “The Bacchae” of Euripides twice!—directed by Keith Scales for the Classic Greek Theater of Oregon\, and directed by choreographer Bill T. Jones\, for a dance-theater workshop production at Columbia University. \n  \nPhilosophy has become an academic subject\, taught by Philosophy Professors to Philosophy Students in Universities. Mostly\, they read the writings of the most famous philosophers in the Western Philosophical tradition\, and discuss their ideas. For Socrates and Plato\, philosophia\, the love of wisdom\, was something quite different. They wanted to know: how should we live? Life is short—what is the best way to spend the brief time we have? When I went to India\, I didn’t go in order to become a scholar of Indian Philosophy. I wanted to get enlightenment! The gurus I studied with taught what might be called “The Art of Living\,” which included Philosophy\, Psychology and Religion—as it did for Socrates and Plato. I read Plato and Walt Whitman not because I want to impress people at cocktail parties\, but because I want to live a meaningful life. I want to be wiser\, kinder\, happier\, more free. I want to better understand what’s going on here! \n  \nThe word theos\, “god\,” had a different meaning for the Greeks in those days than it does for those of us who grew up with a monotheistic worldview. Instead of saying “God is Love\,” it would have made more sense to say “Love is a god.” Anything eternal was a god or a goddess—Earth\, Sky\, Night\, Day\, Evening\, Sleep\, Dreams\, Madness\, Desire\, Violence\, Friendship\, Fate\, Chaos\, Death—all were holy. The Greeks lived in a sacred landscape\, where mortal women gave birth to children whose fathers were gods—or even rivers! \n  \nThe performances of Greek tragedies were sacred rites. The “City Dionysia” was a festival in Athens dedicated to the god Dionysus. The god was believed to be present for the performances. Just as New England Puritans were required to go to church\, Athenians were required to attend the plays. It was a religious duty. Everyone was expected to honor the gods and goddesses by making sacrifices and performing sacred rites. One thing you definitely didn’t want to do was anger the gods. The plays told stories sacred to the Greeks\, including stories about the Trojan War and its aftermath. If you’ve read the Iliad\, you will remember that the gods and goddesses of Olympus took sides\, and got very involved. \n  \nMost of the stories that the Greek playwrights told were tragedies—so much so\, that we might get the impression that the Greeks in those days had a “tragic worldview.” But trying to understand how people in Athens at the time of Socrates understood the world and their place in it is extremely challenging. Maybe even a Herculean labor! It’s mind-boggling! So much was going on! And they were going through big changes—thanks in no small part to the philosophers and playwrights. \n  \nThere were three kinds of plays: tragedies\, comedies and satyr plays. We have only seven of the seventy to ninety plays that Aeschylus wrote\, seven of the more than 120 plays that Sophocles wrote\, eighteen of the ninety or so plays that Euripides wrote\, and eleven of the forty comedies that Aristophanes wrote. One satyr play survives\, “The Cyclops” by Euripides. Every year at the City Dionysia Festival three playwrights would be invited to present four plays each—three tragedies and one satyr play. It’s interesting that after watching three tragedies\, full of suffering—Oedipus’ mother hangs herself and he gouges out his own eyes—the mood would shift to a knockabout comedy\, full of bawdy humor. (Satyrs spent their time getting drunk and having sex. Greek vases give us ample evidence that ancient Greeks were definitely not Puritans.) \n  \nThe chorus was an essential part of all Greek plays. In an early play like “The Suppliants\,” the chorus of Egyptian women\, “Danaïdes\,” is the protagonist of the drama. (Lots of words we use today come from the Greek: protagonist\, antagonist\, drama\, tragedy\, chorus\, catharsis\, nemesis\, hubris\, myth\, psyche\, eros\, idea\, and on and on.) Most modern plays don’t have a chorus\, but most operas do\, and lots of dance productions and musicals do. The Greek chorus didn’t just speak their lines\, they sang them. And they danced. Among the many challenges for our production will be integrating music and movement into the performance. Fortunately\, one of our collaborators is a dancer-choreographer. \n  \nThere are a lot more books and essays about Greek Tragedy than about Greek Comedy\, but I’d like to say a word or two about Aristophanes. He boldly made fun of the most powerful (and dangerous) men in the city—and they were in the audience! He made fun of everyone and everything\, including tragic playwrights\, philosophers\, gods and goddesses. Most remarkably\, he wrote anti-war plays\, like Lysistrata—where the women refuse to have sex with their husbands until they end the war—and he did this while his country was at war! It’s a credit to the people of ancient Athens that he got away with it! \n  \nI hope we get the grant! For me\, going to Greece will be a kind of pilgrimage. I want to see the places where Zeus hit people with lightning bolts\, places where gods and goddesses were born\, where heroes performed their mighty deeds. I want to walk around the agora\, where Socrates spent his days asking his fellow citizens about the meaning of Justice and Virtue. He was sentenced to death for corrupting the youth with his philosophizing. He calmly drank the poison after explaining to his friends why he was completely unafraid to die.
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-10-14-21/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20211015
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211115
DTSTAMP:20260427T113412
CREATED:20211019T154303Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20211130T002242Z
UID:2412-1634256000-1636934399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  10/15/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \n  October 15\, 2021 \n  \nMeditation is Not Solemn #291 \n  \n“Meditation is to be aware of what is going on—- in our body\, in our feelings\, in our mind\, and in the world. Each day\, nine thousand children die of hunger. The superpowers have more than enough nuclear warheads to destroy our planet many times. Yet the sunrise is beautiful\, and the rose that bloomed this morning along the wall is a miracle. Life is both dreadful and wonderful. To practice meditation is to be in touch with both aspects. Please do not think we must be solemn in order to meditate. In fact\, to meditate well\, we have to smile a lot.” –Thich Nhat Hanh\, from Your True Home \n  \nAnd life is not solemn—-at least not all the time. Admittedly\, I spend a fair amount of time worrying about the world—pandemic\, the Taliban\, voter suppression\, Texas\, climate\, wildfire smoke…the neighbors’ barking dogs… \n  \nBut invariably I get caught\, snagged\, by beauty: \n  \nMy dog’s little fur body\, impossibly soft and sweet-smelling. \nThe bouquet of sweet peas\, smelling like my dear grandmother’s garden. \nThe moon gleaming in the black sky. \nErik Satie’s\, Gymnopédie floating up from downstairs. \nGarden tomatoes and golden raspberries heavy on their vines\, red and gold. \n  \nAnd that’s all within a 100’ radius! And all right now\, at this moment! Just think of what’s to come—fall leaves! snow on the mountain! pumpkin pie! \n  \nBeauty must trump pain\, mustn’t it? I believe so. In meditation some of all these aspects of life\, good and bad\, float in and out\, up and down. Just let them be. But beauty rises to the top. \n  \n—Jude Russell  (September 15) \n* \n  \n(Here are some excerpts from Michel’s meditation journal. The numbers refer to meditations from Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh.) \n  \nSeptember 2\, 2021  #171 PRECIOUS GIFTS \n  \nBeing fully present: there was nothing I wanted more\, as a child\, from my father\, but it wasn’t until I became an adult that I learned the language to identify my need. Now\, I’m confined in a box and I always wonder: when will I lose him? I’m scheduled to be released when he is 102⅔…. \n  \nI can do something for myself now—breathe\, and learn to do what he didn’t know then….I can continue to practice the gift of being fully present whenever I get time with others: parents by phone\, or friends in person. \n  \nIt’s odd that as humans we forget how much we value and cherish someone until they are nearly gone. A rare exception\, which I would not advise anyone to pursue\, is the “near-death experience.” Yet\, it is after these moments of being shook awake from our casual stupor in life that\, for many of us\, we finally begin to give our full attention—at least for a while. \n  \nYet\, all it requires of us to give “precious gifts” is to breathe on purpose\, mindfully aware of each passing moment while we are in it. There’s nothing more to do. There’s nothing complicated about breathing. It can help one to practice this skill\, the mindful part at least\, so when the “important” moments do arrive I can be present and aware. They’re all important when we pay attention to them. I just hope that paying attention can help recall the sensation of a past moment with my dad\, mother\, uncle\, or dear friends—when all are gone from my now. It can be nice to visit a moment or two\, before the mind goes. \n  \n(I’m including the next meditation Michel talks about\, because it’s short and sweet.) \n  \n# 175  Let Your Heart Bloom \n  \nIn the Springtime\, thousands of different kinds of flowers bloom. Your heart can also bloom. You can let your heart open up to the world. Love is possible—do not be afraid of it. Love is indispensable to life\, and if in the past you have suffered because of love\, you can learn how to love again.     —Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \nSeptember 22\, 2021  #175 LET YOUR HEART BLOOM \n  \nThis is a challenging proposition in this setting—not impossible\, just a challenge. So maybe the challenge becomes cultivating a safe haven—a garden of sorts. It is still many weeks away—seemingly an eternity—but\, eventually\, the few of us still remaining from Theatre and Dialogue groups will be allowed to assemble once again as a community of friends I rarely\, if ever\, see as I go about my cyclical movements. Once in a while I do see an old friend; we greet and pass along\, as required. It’s pleasing to have those moments. I doubt things are any easier in the “free world.” So\, until we can once again convene in our little haven at TRCI together\, we’ll need to be “open”—letting our hearts bloom where we are—so when we do meet an old friend\, or gather as a group\, we can be ready with a heart open to the possibility of love\, when ever and where ever it may happen upon us. I think I like this idea: being ready for life wherever it may happen.  \n  \nSeptember 30\, 2021  #176 TRAINING FOR HAPPINESS \n  \nThis sounds like a fun training! Happiness is something I’ve learned\, slowly\, to be (mostly) a choice. At first the struggle was to identify when I was happy. It was a tough time for me and this seems to be over-simplified. Another truth about happiness I learned: it’s not dependent on anything or anyone outside of me. Happiness\, (like love)\, when dependent on external causes will cease when the causes evaporate—they always do….I’ve also learned that a happy-sad balance exists along a continuum; also\, that without other “negative” (so-called) emotions the enjoyment of happiness is less\, because of lack of contrast. \n  \n(You may also find value at PositivePsychology.com. It is relevant and related. (M.D.)) \n  \nOnce again\, I suspect\, this training brings me back to recall that I will be of more constant states when I resume deliberate\, daily breathing practices—meditation…. Happiness\, as a practice\, is going to require some practice from me\, if for no other reason than that I will know I’m happy when it happens! This sounds really silly to my mind’s ear\, but I think the breathing practice and\, possibly\, a focus on things I am happy about or happy to see and do. Maybe others have ideas for how to “TRAIN FOR HAPPINESS.” It could be a great value to those of us struggling with finding it. How do you TRAIN FOR HAPPINESS? Do you just prepare to “be” happy? Or is there a deliberate mantra or slogan you practice with? How does one TRAIN FOR HAPPINESS? I’d like to know. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \n(Michael’s last question is a good one to ponder. John Paisley once asked some of his friends to write about happiness. I wrote the poem “Eudæmanology.” It’s not the final or definitive word on the subject\, but might (I hope) provide some clues for our ongoing quest. (J.S.)) \n  \nEudæmonology*  \n  \nwell\, right off I’d better say  \nhappiness is an art\, not a science  \n  \nit helps if you start out deliriously happy  \nsome kids hesitate  \nothers run right at life\, full-speed\, with wide-open arms  \nif they trip and fall flat on their face  \nthey get up and keep charging  \n  \nif you weren’t one of those kids  \nI don’t know what to tell you  \nmaybe you’ll always hesitate  \n  \nand if you were one of those wildly happy ones  \nyou already know the secret  \nlearned it without being taught  \nknew it before you knew you knew it  \nno anamnesis required  \nbecause you never forgot who you are  \n  \nof course between then and now something could have happened  \nsomething relentless like family\, school\, television\, job  \nduties\, obligations\, commitments\, tragedies even  \nthe car accident\, the cancer  \n  \nthere are parts of the world—big parts—where tragedy is the dirty air you can’t avoid breathing \nplaces where food is scarce and machine guns are plentiful  \nif you don’t live in one of those places you’re damn lucky  \n  \nso\, the conclusion so far seems to be that happiness is a matter of luck  \n  \nbut there’s more to it  \n  \nwhere I live many young women could easily go to the store and get food  \nbut instead they get so thin they look scary  \n  \num\, so the question is: what is required for happiness?  \nwell\, it starts with the basics: food\, shelter\, clean water to drink  \nthen\, other stuff comes into it: love\, affection\, friendship  \n  \nand the art of not making yourself miserable  \n  \nthe Buddha said craving is the source of suffering  \nand cessation of craving is liberation  \n  \nbear that in mind  \n  \nI think a big problem is that people forget that thoughts are just thoughts  \nit’s as if all the ideas\, opinions\, beliefs they have accumulated are the world in which they live  \nrather than the filter through which they see the world  \n  \nso\, the secret of happiness?  \nmaybe something like this…  \nseeing through the spell of thought and language  \ncoming again and again  \nwide awake  \nto the silence  \nthat knows  \nnothing  \n  \n* A neglected branch of Philosophy\, the study of happiness.  \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nWeary of those who come with words\, words but no language\, \nI make my way to the snow-covered island. \nThe untamed has no words. \nIts blank pages spread out in all directions. \nI come across the tracks of some deer in the snow— \nLanguage\, but no words. \n  \n—Tomas Tranströmer   (March\, 1979)\, from Bill Faricy \n* \n  \n#3  Miracles \n  \nLife and all that it is \, is a miracle. Our very decision to take a path can be a miracle\, or it could be a curse\, but even a curse could be a miracle. So many of life’s mishaps or follies turn out to be miracles in disguise. A good one to consider is Prometheus’ plight: he bequeathed the fire of the gods to man. Man got fire and the big bird got his liver for a meal every day. Prometheus will never die. There are three miracles in that story. \n  \nThose of us within the walls of a prison can choose to be miracles to those we love and for those who are lost—because they need love\, too. We can\, with a full heart of humbleness\, help them to find their path. I ask many the same question that a great man once asked me when I needed it most: “Who are you\, really?” \n  \nMost people want to do good and be good and I’ve noticed that most just want to live a simple life—a job\, wife\, home\, car\, etc.—to accomplish that\, to them would be a miracle. To walk away from the life that put us in prison and reform ourselves is a miracle. To say “no” to addiction and “yes” to life is a miracle. \n  \nSo\, I call you to be the miracle for yourself and then look to your left and to your right and tell each person that they are a miracle too. Hug\, touch\, laugh\, glow in the light of inner love you have. Radiate the light of goodness inside\, for that is the spark that is a beacon to all who need a focal point to see that the miracle of change is real. \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \n  \n(Thich Nhat Hanh turned 95 on October 11th. He is known as Thây\, which means “teacher\,” by many people. In 1982\, he established the Plum Village Monastery in the south of France. In November of 2014\, he had a major stroke\, and has been unable to speak since that time. In November of 2018\, he returned to Vietnam. Katie has been to Plum Village many times. She sent us this newsletter\, which I’ve edited a bit:) (J.S.) \n  \nDear Beloved Community\,  \n  \nWarm greetings from Plum Village\, France  \n  \nPeaceful dwelling  \n  \nAs we approach Thầy’s 95th birthday this week\, we would like to share with our international community how Thầy and our sangha at Từ Hiếu Temple in Huế\, Vietnam have been doing…..We are deeply grateful for the love and dedication of the team of people taking care of our teacher.  \n  \nOver the last year\, Thầy’s health has weakened. The autumn rains have always been challenging for Thầy’s lungs and health\, and continue to be so. This spring Thầy was not able to go outside to visit the temple grounds as much as he could last year. Nevertheless\, the sangha was delighted that\, when the Từ Hiếu Temple renovation was finished\, Thầy was well enough to make a tour of the temple to visit the completed works. In recent months\, Thầy has been resting for most of the day with his eyes closed\, yet he is often very alert\, present and at peace. When the weather is fine\, the attendants help Thầy to go out onto the veranda of the Deep Listening Hut to enjoy the sun.   \n  \nWe are here for you  \n  \nWith the great challenges of the Covid-19 pandemic in Vietnam\, both Từ Hiếu Root Temple and our Diệu Trạm nunnery have been mostly closed to visitors. Fortunately\, Huế has been spared the major outbreak that Ho Chi Minh City has endured….Many people in Vietnam have been without food or work. With the help of our international sangha friends\, as part of our Love and Understanding social work program\, our monastics in Vietnam have been doing their best to supply oxygen\, food\, medicine and donations at the roadside food banks helping those most in need.  \n  \nWe are deeply aware that the pandemic has brought great suffering to countless people all around the world. We continue to do our best to practice diligently with stability and compassion\, so we can be a refuge for you all\, now and in the future. It is our deep wish to open Plum Village in France again as soon as possible.  \n  \nNew ways to practice together  \n  \n….Finding ways to support one another as we integrate mindfulness practice more deeply into daily life has been a powerful collective journey.  \n  \nThis month\, a small delegation of monastics representing Thầy will be traveling from Plum Village to Scotland to participate in the TED Countdown conference ahead of the COP26 climate talks. They will be sharing Thầy’s teachings on ethics and awakening with leaders\, scientists\, activists and businesspeople; and they will also teach practices of mindful walking\, mindful breathing\, mindful eating\, and the art of deep listening. Thầy always hoped that mindfulness retreats could be organized ahead of political summits\, and it’s wonderful to have the chance to contribute towards his vision.  \n  \nThe gift of listening  \n  \nFor Thầy’s birthday this year\, we’re inviting our whole community to offer Thầy the gift of our practice: in particular\, the collective practice of deep listening to ourselves\, our loved ones\, and the Earth. Our own practice of mindfulness is the most powerful gift we can offer to continue Thầy’s teachings and legacy in the world.   \n  \nThank you for being there\, and for walking this path with us. We are deeply grateful for your continued support and generosity for our monastic community as we carry Thầy’s legacy forward into the future.  \n  \nWith love\, gratitude\, and trust\,   \n  \nThe Monks and Nuns of Plum Village  \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \n72 \n  \nAll my errors made me who I am— \nthat set-back quickened my epiphany\, \nthat detour brought me to the way\, \ncatastrophe was cradle to awakening\, \ndisaster kindled the great shazam. \n  \nYou young folks\, take a lesson \nfrom one humbled by attrition: \nmay you relish revelation born \nof every kink in your intention \nas required by your formation. \n  \nVery Local Weather \n  \nThe forecast is moderate\, but significant— \nat least to me: the little storm my body builds \npassing through this world. Light breezes \nof the breath inhaled become variable winds\, \nenough to stir a drifting feather\, or puff some \nthistledown\, my sigh slight\, but bold\, compared \nto a bird’s whisper stirring a thicket\, or wisplet \nof the butterfly\, flaring wings through golden light. \nA warming trend imbues the damp stump I sit on\, \nthen I disturb the air by stepping the stony path. \nAnd don’t forget the spate of yellow rain spent \nfrom my cloudy soul onto dry leaves. And \ndon’t forget how my habits change the climate\, \nmy light\, my speed\, my hurricane of acquisition \nmelting ice\, raising seas\, burning mountains— \nI and you and all of our tornado transformations. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nToday is a happy day: Josh Underhill got out of prison this morning. Christine Darnell forwarded me a picture from Josh’s mom. He has a big smile on his face. Christine informed me that “he finished off his chicken fried steak\, hash browns and gravy with no problem.” I’m looking forward to having pizza with Josh on Sunday\, in two days. \n  \nI met Josh on a Wednesday evening\, June 3\, 2009\, and spent three hours with him every week for six years. And then\, Nancy and I saw him once a month for five more years. We did a lot of plays together: A Midsummer Night’s Dream\, Twelfth Night\, Twelve Angry Men\, King Lear\, Winter’s Tale\, Hamlet. We have a lot of shared memories\, a lot of the same friends. \n  \nNancy and I had the good fortune to watch Josh grow up—become wiser\, and more self-confident. He has always been very thoughtful of others. A gentle soul. \n  \nYesterday was overcast and rainy. Today the sky is bright blue. I can’t imagine what it must feel like for Josh today—not surrounded by concrete walls\, seeing so much\, experiencing so much\, getting to spend the day with his loved ones. Might be a bit of a “sensory overload\,” and somewhat overwhelming emotionally. There will be challenges ahead\, but he’s going to do well. He’s been on a good trajectory for a long time. I’m grateful to have him as my friend. \n  \nDear Josh:  \nA lot of people love you and wish you well. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \n(Note to readers: Please contribute to our dialogue as writers as well as readers.)
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-10-15-21/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20211028
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CREATED:20211028T165259Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20211028T184339Z
UID:2421-1635379200-1636588799@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  10/28/21
DESCRIPTION:  \n \nphotos by Kim Stafford \n  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \n  \nOctober 28\, 2021 \n  \n  \nPoems from the past five days…where do they come from? \n  \nby Kim Stafford \n  \nFor some years now\, I’ve started each day with a walk before dawn\, then sitting with my breath\, then coffee\, then something like a poem—that is\, an exploratory utterance rising from recent experience in the world\, and in thought.  \n     For what it’s worth\, in response to Johnny’s invitation\, here are the most recent five adventures into my realm of scribbling… \n  \n  \n16 October \n  \nAt the coast for my birthday\, we went to the turnout south from Depot Bay to watch a whale out beyond the breakers breach and roll. My poem the next day tried to honor this encounter. As often happens\, though\, I got a little preachy toward the end\, with my “So we must…” conclusion. This is my failing: loving Earth\, hoping for the future\, seeking to honor the miracles that come tug our sleeves… \n  \n  \n  At Rocky Creek We Watch the Whale \n  \nOut beyond the heave and shattered roll of waves \nwe see the puff\, the plume\, breath burst\, the back’s \ndark gleam sliding down into the massive deep. \n  \nThat’s about how much we know of everything— \ndreams of wheeling birds\, the swell and fade of seasons— \na glimpse gone down\, a gasp\, and the rest is guessing. \n  \nPrecious Earth\, leviathan—the visible we see\, and say \nwe know\, while the hidden will be what we need. \n  \n  \n  \n17 October \n  \nAt the coast\, we rose at 5a.m. for low tide to gather mussels from wave-pummeled rocks—the errand of a fool\, or in our case\, the dedicated gourmand. While wrestling in the dark with waves to our knees\, I found myself wondering if there might be a phrase in French to describe a gourmet so dedicated\, no danger was too great in the pursuit of fine flavor. Thus\, this adventure came to the page… \n  \n  \nCampagne Extrême du Gourmet \n  \nAt the darkest episode of night \nwe strode by wave-bashed rocks \nin thunder din of the rising tide \nto address the wall of blue shell \nmussels pried by headlamp flicker \ninto the pail for our planned repast \nwith butter\, lemon\, and white wine\,  \nas the sea surge wrapped our knees \nuntil we shuddered as the dark tug  \nand thrash from out beyond our faint  \nperiphery demanded utter surrender  \nto be swept\, to be stumbled into ocean’s  \nhungry pot\, to be stirred into torn asunder\,  \nto be atomized\, to be distilled  \ninto the flavor salt. \n  \n  \n  \n18 October \n  \nOur daughter knows the sommelière at a local winery\, and he generously invited us to come sip. By the third vintage I was feeling no pain\, and the next morning composed a blessing in his honor and sent it off… \n  \n  \n      A Sip Serene \n  \nUp from stone and earth \nby the vine-root clench \ndrought-flavored rain \nrises into stem\, leaf\, bud\, \nand tendril to spangle in sun \nalong the row hung heavy \nwith fisted clusters to be \ncrushed\, then cherished \ninto wine\, the whole hill \nshimmered in this scent \nthat fills the mind\, and \nthen this sip of honor. \n  \n  \n  \n19 October \n  \nThis really big crow landed on the lintel above our garden gate\, and started strutting back and forth. I enjoyed the spectacle…and then next morning\, writing\, started by trying to describe his imperious presence. But once I had that\, I thought\, “That’s cool\, but so what?” I realized he reminded me of certain Type-A males who lord it over the rest of us (Jeff B.\, Elon M.\, Mark Z.)\, and so they got into the opening lines… \n  \n  \n                         King Crow \nWhen some fat cat\, filthy rich\, swaggers  \nand proclaims—you know\, the ones with \nyachts\, trophy homes\, and bizarre opinions\,  \nthe ones who clearly never learned to practice  \nbasic human etiquette—I see our king crow\,  \nthe heavy one swooping low to settle and command  \nthe lintel board above the gate\, to strut and brag\,  \nhis bead black eyes glinting dire fire\, his seesaw  \nrocking tossing shouts to the sky\, flexing his sheen  \nof rainbow black\, burning the air with sheer bravado  \nas he disdains his craven clan below\, all small crows  \nbowing and scraping\, thrusting their beaks for pickings. \n  \nAbove it all\, his highness pivots\, shrugs\, and shouts:  \nShow me something worth my time—then it’s mine. \n  \n  \n  \n20 October \n  \nI’ve been going through old letters\, and as I work my way back into the 1970s I come to the time I was preparing\, foolishly\, to become a scholar. I compiled vast bibliographies\, and worked my way through a slew of books chosen—not because they were good\, but because they were essential to my chosen field of study. Then I remembered the scholarly exercise of the “Abstract\,” that paragraph at the head of a formal article\, distilling the import of what was to follow. Then out of nowhere—my favorite source for writing—I thought of the phrase “It takes one to know one…\,” and I started wondering who first said that…and soon I was back to our primitive forebears. Then I started having fun… \n  \n  \nInnocent Words of Ancient Import \nby Hector Persimian\, Ph.D.\, DMD\, ABC\, DVD \n  \nAbstract: This paper charts new ground in phase archeology—as a complement to genetic investigations into the origin of human species—through an examination of indicator phrases like “you scratch my back\, I scratch yours\,” a clear reference to primordial grooming rituals (Baker\, 1987); “takes one to know one\,” a key to solidarity among rival Homo dejectus hunting bands (Spice\, 1993); and “one may smile and smile and yet may be a villain\,” a phrase long attributed to a particular writer\, but clearly originating in the confrontational grin display of our simian forebears (Jekyll and Hyde\, 2001). We will conclude with a close study of the phrase “Yes and no\,” a tantalizing remnant of our ancestors’ philosophical struggle with their existential conundrum: should we come down from the trees? \n  \n  \n  \n21 October \n  \nYesterday\, our son told us of the disastrous new computer system at work\, causing all kinds of disruption and despair. On my morning walk\, I got to thinking about other kinds of dysfunction. Both Capitalism and the avoidance of Climate Crisis came to mind. In my walking meditation\, the words “glitch” and “triage’ came to mind\, and I had to write the poem to find out what these two words might want to say to one another. \n  \n  \n       Remedy for Glitch \nWhen things go crazy haywire— \ncomputer crash\, capitalism cheats\, oil  \nburns us all—it’s time for triage. So\, \n  \nchoose one: (1) How did this happen?… \nor (2) Whose fault is this?…or \n(3) What’s to be done? \n  \nScreen in my face\, money in hand\, \nand a hard look at my habits: \nreboot…learn thrift…simplify. \n  \n  \n  \nI can make no claim for the value\, the “success\,” of these humble poems. But I do believe in the practice of making them. By sitting each morning with my thoughts\, wonderings\, intuitions\, struggles\, and obsessions\, I write in order to honor our perennial opportunity when faced with trouble: There might be another way. \n  \n—Kim Stafford
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-10-28-21/
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DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211114
DTSTAMP:20260427T113412
CREATED:20211028T190945Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20211103T015210Z
UID:2431-1635638400-1636847999@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!  10/31/21
DESCRIPTION:  \nBeloved Bibliophiles \n  \n(Apologies Everyone. I’m having problems with the formatting on this page. Everything below is squashed together. I’ll see if some tech support people can help me get this fixed soon.) \n  \nJude recommended NATURE as the topic Bibliophiles Unanimous! on Sunday\, October 31st. Here’s her recap\, with a few things added by Johnny at the end: \n  \n  \n\n\nHi Johnny\,\n\n\n\nHere are some notes on our very fun BiblioUn. yesterday:\n\n\n\nFirst of all\, the Japanese term I couldn’t dredge up was ‘shinrin yoku\,’ or ‘forest bathing.’ My friend\, Yasuko\, and I are glad that our belief that ‘bathing in nature’ is actually beneficial is now validated by the Japanese term\, ‘shinrin yoku.’ It means ‘making contact with and taking in the atmosphere of the forest\,’ and it is something the Japanese take seriously (as do I!). And remember I said that this not-so-common term and its meaning were inscribed on a large reader board at the not-so-prominent Little Zigzag Falls near Zigzag and Government Camp\, OR. What are the chances of that?!?!\n\n\n\nWhew!  one or two sentence summary of the books I mentioned:\n\n\n\nThe Overstory – Richard Powers – A novel with 9 main characters about our treatment of and relationship with the environment\, specifically trees\, forests…Nine very different characters and nine very different stories\, but all pulled together in the end.\n\n\n\nUnderland– Robert MacFarlane – Nonfiction telling of explorations under the earth’s surface. MacFarlane studies the fungi that create a cooperative system below forest floors\, with the plant scientist\, Merlin Sheldrake. (I had totally forgotten his romp with Sheldrake the whole time I was later reading Entangled Life by..Merlin Sheldrake!) The book also looks at burial and darkness and deep time…\n\n\n\nThe Lost Words-Robert MacFarlane – Beautiful art in a large book depicting one hundred words in middle schoolers’ dictionaries that have been deemed obsolescent and have been replaced\, mostly by computer related terms (byte\, etc.). Because most children no longer get out in nature much anymore (hence the nauseating term ‘Nature Deficit Disorder’)\, most or all of the words are related to nature: wren\, bramble\, dandelion\, weasel\, etc. MacFarlane writes a poem for each lost word\, and each is accompanied by a gorgeous watercolor.\n\n\n\nThe Invention of Nature – Andrea Wulf – Story of Alexander von Humboldt\, early to mid-19th century Prussian explorer and naturalist who understood nature as an interconnected global force. He discovered the similarities in climate zones across the world at different elevations and different latitudes\, and also predicted human-caused climate change.\n\n\n\nThe Brother Gardeners – Andrea Wulf – In the 18th century\, wealthy estate owners in England sought to expand their properties from the rigid\, formal privet/lawn/columnar conifer forms to include exotic\, floriferous plants from around the world. Captain Cook\, Captain Bligh\,Erasmus Darwin (grandad of Chuck)\, Benjamin Franklin and others figure into this plant frenzy.\n\n\n\nThe Wild Trees – Richard Preston – About the scaling and mapping of the tallest trees in the world (350′-400′!) \, found in the California Redwoods. The discovery of another plant world\, hundreds of feet up in the trees\, figures into this; compacted soil\, ferns\, moss\, huckleberry bushes\, even crustaceans live and thrive in this ‘deep canopy.’ You can walk around up there. Wow!\n\n\n\nBraiding Sweetgrass – Robin Wall Kimmerer – Author is a professor of botany and of Potawatomi heritage. She ‘braids’ together indigenous wisdom and scientific knowledge and gives equal importance to each. She convinced me.\n\n\n\n\nThe Botany of Desire – Michael Pollan – Author picks four plants (potato\, marijuana\, tulip and apple) to show how plants create desire in humans\, thereby assuring (in very different ways) their (continued) survival. The potato (control)\, marijuana (intoxication)\, tulip (beauty)\, and apple (sweetness). He posits that plants control us  rather than us controlling plants.\n\n\n\nThanks for yesterday and all other Biblio days!\n\n\n\n\n\nJude\n\n\n\n\nJude also held up a copy of The Entangled Web by Merlin Sheldrake.\n\n\n\nMartha talked about A World on the Wingby Scott Weidensaul.\n\n\n\nJohnny Scharbach spoke of The Secret Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben and mentioned  Chris Maser\, who wrote many books\, including Forest Primeval. He also talked about a book he’s reading titled The Web of Meaning.\n\n\n\nKatie told us a little about what her son Abel and his wife Tao are doing. They are both ecologists\, and are currently helping teach a Permaculture course through Oregon State University. Katie: please remind me what books you talked about.\n\n\n\nTodd talked about the New England Transcendentalists and read this poem that he wrote:\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  \nHalf Dome\, Autumn \n  \nI can never get over the notion \nthat fall trees are old ladies and gents \nstrutting across the green: \nladies\, in their elaborate turn-of-the-century hats \nfloppy brims and trailing dresses \nmen\, all spiffy in top hats and spats \npin-striped pants\, tails lopping in the breeze. \n  \nAll through the winter \nthey reach into bare sky \ntheir feathers banished by stripping winds; \nstopped like dancers on a music box. \nRain lashes their trunks black \nthen quietly encases them in silver and glass. \n  \nBut suddenly\, the miracle of spring. \nTheir glass shells shatter to the ground. \nGreen emerges and reaches from their bodies. \nAll summer it reaches out to the edge of shadow. \n\n  \nBut\, like I say\, \n\nit’s in the fall these ladies and gents start their promenade \nand they keep walking right up to the last feather. \n\n  \n–Todd Oleson \n  \n\n\n\n\nI mentioned a couple books by David Abram: The Spell of the Sensuous & Becoming Animal. And a couple films: “Fantastic Fungi” and “Winged Migration.”\n\n\n\n\n\n\npeace & love\n\n\n\n\nJohnny\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-10-31-21/
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