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SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  5/15/23
DESCRIPTION:  \nMay 15\, 2023 \n  \nLet your heart speak to others’ hearts. \n—tag on Yogi Tea bag \n  \n                Gandhi Returns \n  \nAs if he had said enough in life\, he uttered  \nnot a word where we stood in the station  \nin my dream\, only a stillness in the bustle  \nall around us. Instead\, he listened\, turning  \nhis bright young face in welcome to every  \ntraveler as they made speeches of their own.  \nA mother told of her son\, and in Gandhi’s eyes  \nthe boy was hero. I told him how Ali in Tehran \nhad written me that poetry is oxygen\, and in  \nMahatma’s eyes\, this was a truth no gun  \ncould injure. One by one he summoned \nwitness from each pilgrim. Then\, smiling\,  \nin his folds of pale cotton he helped us  \nstruggle with our luggage onto the steaming  \ntrain. And when I turned\, I saw he had none. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nAlex Tretbar sent two translations of a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke—showing what a big difference a translator’s choices make. He prefers the Robert Bly version: \n  \nPALM \n  \nInterior of the hand. Sole that has come to walk \nonly on feelings. That faces upward \nand in its mirror \nreceives heavenly roads\, which travel \nalong themselves. \nThat has learned to walk upon water \nwhen it scoops\, \nthat walks upon wells\, \ntransfiguring every path. \nThat steps into other hands\, \nchanges those that are like it \ninto a landscape: \nwanders and arrives within them\, \nfills them with arrival. \n  \n—translated by Stephen Mitchell \n  \nPALM OF THE HAND \n  \nPalm of the hand. Sole that walks now \nonly on feeling. It turns over\, \nbecomes a mirror\, \nshows sky roads\, which \nthemselves are walking. \nIt has learned to walk on water\, \nwhen it dips down\, \nmoves on springs\, \ncauses all roads to fork. \nComes forward into other palms\, \nthose like itself \nturn into a countryside\, \nthrough them it travels and arrives\, \nfills them with having arrived. \n  \n—translated by Robert Bly \n* \n  \nI saw lots of Jet trails in the blue sky gaily criss-crossing \nand wondered how many of us might be able to see them. \nThen this poem\, that our beloved friend and  Zen teacher  \nBob Schaibly liked\, popped into my mind.   \n  \nLove Note \n  \nLet us hire a hundred planes \nStuff them with hot cotton smoke \nAnd write white poetry on the paper of the sky. \nLet the ant people on the hot summer beaches look up squinting \nRead feathery descriptions of your lips\, \nTraced by the sky writers. \n  \nWe’ll pick a calm noontime\, \nSun pressing wrinkles out of the steamy sea \nSky flat\, receptive. \n“Love\,” I’ll write\, and “mouth\,” and silver words. \n“Cling\,” I’ll write\, and “Stars\,” and oh\, don’t worry. \nThe words will all come easily enough. \nIt’s the idea that matters. \n  \nThen I’ll fly up in the highest plane’ \nAnd jump and parachute right through \nThe O in the word “Love” \nAnd land in your backyard\, \nAnd kiss you – home again. \n  \n—Joseph Siebel \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \nAnd a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels… \n—Walt Whitman\, Song of Myself \n  \nThe Miraculousness of Everything \n  \nBecause life is short and each day is precious\, I like to begin each day by entering what I call “the Golden World”—a state of quiet joy. To do this\, I often reflect upon the miraculousness of everything. Puffy white clouds floating by in the sky—how do they do that? Where did these coffee beans come from? The trees I see out my window have brand new bright green leaves. How did that happen? Our neighborhood is full of tulips. The irises and the rhododendrons are just starting to bloom. The daphne and the daffodils have had their glorious days. The laptop computer that I’m typing this on was undreamt of when I was a boy. \n  \nMaybe the most impossible and amazing thing of all is that I am alive and aware. My eyes\, brain and nervous system somehow create the illusion of a three-dimensional world in full color. Scientists might say\, “It’s just photons of light hitting the surface of the eye\, sending an electrical current to your brain\, where the synapses in your visual cortex something something something…” Huh? Photons? Synapses? Brain? What the heck are those? Where did they come from? One of my little poems goes like this: \n  \nthere has never been \nis not now \nand will never be \nanything more perfect \nthan this glass of water \n  \nOops! Here I am again…in the Golden World. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \n#186  The First Noble Truth \n“The Buddha told us to recognize the First Noble Truth\, the truth of suffering\, and to look deeply in order to discover the Second Noble Truth\, the cause of suffering.That is the only way the Fourth Noble Truth\, the path to transform suffering into happiness\, can reveal itself. So we have to emphasize the role of suffering. If we are so afraid of suffering\, we have no chance.” \n—from Your True Home  by Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \nWhen I was in the midst of deep suffering\, of course I couldn’t comprehend that this was a good thing\, leading to happiness. Sure didn’t feel like that to me. \n  \nThe suffering was thirteen years of marriage to a raging alcoholic—yes\, “raging” is not an exaggeration. Trying to cover a black eye with makeup\, wearing long-sleeved shirts to cover bruised arms\, making humiliating excuses for his passing out on the floor in the presence of company\, sharp\, cutting words more lasting than any physical pain…on and on. I thought if I left\, I would be seen as a failure in my parents’ eyes\, so I stayed and endured and excused for\, yes\, thirteen years. Believe me\, I was not thinking of these years as those leading to happiness. Upon divorce (thank you\, Al Anon)\, I eventually became a new person—or I became who I had been before marriage\, Jump-up Jude! I felt like a helium balloon released into the sky. Happiness and euphoria beyond belief. However\, I lived periods of time (and still do!)\, infused with what I would now call PTSD: Once I clambered over audience-filled seats in a theater in Ashland to escape sitting through a play by Sam Sheppard about an alcoholic husband who goes to bars and trades his car for bags of green peppers\, which he drunkenly spills on the kitchen table as he lurches home to his wife. I can’t watch the movie Elephant Man\, or The Days of Wine and Roses. Much as I wanted to\, I could not even sit and watch the delicious hunk\, Bradley Cooper\, starring in A Star is Born\, as he devolves into violent and abusive alcoholism. And I just can’t be around drunk people. I feel like I’m suffocating. \n  \nSo where does the happiness component come from that??? The happiness and benefit come from my ability to connect and empathize  with others who have been traumatized by life experiences. The kids I mentored\, the Indian woman whose family I helped for 18 years\, and most especially\, the men in prison I have spent time with for seven years; I have not lived their lives\, nor have they lived mine\, but we all have had deep trauma and all can relate to one another’s deep trauma in a blessedly bonding experience.  \n  \nIt truly is sheer happiness when one understands\, and is understood by another\, in experiences of trauma and suffering. I wouldn’t trade it for the world! \n  \n–Jude Russell \n* \n  \nOut Here \n  \nWe come out here to watch the stars \nfade as Orion heads home towards \nthe horizon. Low lying mist obscures his \nturning as waves curl and crash\, foamy flow \nup on newly deposited rocks\, old wood\, \nyellow toes of bald eagles foraging \namong crows\, pink footed gulls. \n  \nLight comes up slowly burning mist \naway. As we are away at the edge of the \nknown world. Beacons of cable laying ships\, \nbarges full of earth slowly appear \nas tide comes in. Now there is color \nas sky settles into her blue cloak\, hovers \nprotectively around the huge remnant \n  \nRock of sister cape worn down\, left \nstanding alone in calling distance of \nshore. Before us feasting on starlight \nthe sword edge crescent moon glints \nover barrier pine hills\, \nsweeps the way clear\, for us to make \nwhat we can of this fresh new day. \n  \n—Elizabeth Domike \n* \n  \nMichel is using a book by Pema Chödrön\, based on the slogans in her teacher Chögyam Trungpa’s book Training the Mind: And Cultivating Loving-Kindness\, as inspiration for his April meditation and mindfulness journal. Here are some excerpts: \n  \nApril 4\, 2023  #35  Don’t try to be the fastest. Don’t compete with others. \nI might offer a step further along: Don’t compare self to others—don’t get judgy\, of anything. I’m finding this is one of the lasting legacies of Jake Merriman and OHOM in my life: the letting go of judgement words. To do this one has to follow Johnny Stallings’ trait—compassion for everyone. I find that letting go of obsessive need to categorize and judge\, or sort out good/bad\, like/dislike\, etc. I will vie less and less against others\, or even self\, for prizes that do not exist. From this less judging space it becomes easier to understand and have compassion for an other\, and eventually even for self. \n  \nApril 20\, 2023  #48  Train without bias in all areas. It is crucial to do this pervasively and wholeheartedly. \nIT’S IMPORTANT TO INCLUDE EVERYONE AND \nEVERYTHING YOU MEET AS PART OF YOUR PRACTICE. \nTHEY BECOME THE MEANS BY WHICH YOU \nCULTIVATE COMPASSION AND WISDOM. \nWho doesn’t want to cultivate compassion and/or wisdom? I certainly have been striving to do this. There are certain beings (things are also included in this teaching—sigh) with whom I have a very challenged relationship. I don’t like them\, they don’t like me\, and neither is open to changing this. Yet\, I’m certain (from all my readings) these others are here for some greater purpose in my life; shouldn’t waste an opportunity to grow\, I may not get another one—then what? Go about with a malformed (uncorrected) ego\, as I do now? No thanks! I guess I better get busy with my work/training. \n  \nApril 21\, 2023  #49 Always meditate on whatever provokes resentment. \nDO TONGLEN PRACTICE WHENEVER YOU FEEL RESENTMENT. \nDO IT WITH SMALL THINGS ALL THE TIME. THEN YOU’LL BE \nPREPARED TO WORK WITH THE BIG ONES WHEN THEY ARISE. \nIt seems wise to work with resolving one’s resentments\, before they grow into “hates” for people\, beings\, or things. I believe all mindfulness practice is like this; sit now\, in silent reverie\, so amidst a fierce stormy barrage calm may prevail. Everything would simply build from there. Just breathe… \n  \nApril 23\, 2023  #49 Don’t be swayed by external circumstances. \nWHATEVER YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES\, PRACTICE  TONGLEN. \nWHATEVER IS WANTED\, SEND THAT OUT; WHATEVER IS \nUNWANTED\, BREATHE IT IN AND EXPERIENCE IT FOR \nYOURSELF AND ALL OTHERS IN THE SAME BOAT. \nThis speaks to equanimity—not allowing the outside storms of life to sway my little stuff. Currently\, I am bracing for the eventual passing of my father\, whom I’ve come to love very much. Alzheimer’s is taking a toll on his mind and personality. I don’t see it yet\, but my mom has to deal with many of the challenges that are arising. There’s nothing I can do for either of them; letting those concerns frazzle me doesn’t help any. All I can do is keep doing as best as I can. I’m not ready to let him go\, and at the same time he is already gone. My father I knew as a child is long gone—the one with whom I had so many conflicts and struggles—and the one I’ve come to know\, love\, and appreciate from prison\, he\, too\, is now gone. What’s left is the husk of of a man I once knew for his strength and resolve. He’s not dead\, nor has his mind gone completely yet. However\, the inevitable reality of time’s ravaging of mind and body are no longer easily ignored. It is time to embrace each moment\, as it may be the last one I get with him. Whether by phone\, or if I get to see him once more face-to-face\, truth is present that we all proceed apace to the same destiny—each on our own path and in our own time. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \nDear Mindful Meditators \n  \nOur Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue began on September 15\, 2020. It is mailed to 10 people who are in prison and emailed to about 60 people who aren’t—including 9 men who were in prison in September of 2020 who are now out of prison! Hallelujah! \n  \nWe had our first get-together on Saturday\, May 13th\, at Taborspace in Portland. In attendance were: Charles Erickson\, Nicole Rush\, Sam Muller\, Nancy Scharbach\, Katie Radditz & Johnny Stallings. We talked about how our “life journey” and our “spiritual journey” are the same thing. Everyone shared stories from their life. Abe Green visited us from Montana—via FaceTime. We all had a lovely time together.  \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in peace & love. \n  \n—Johnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-5-15-23/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20230601
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20230803
DTSTAMP:20260426T015709
CREATED:20230601T142659Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T135046Z
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SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  6/1/23
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nJune 1\, 2023 \n  \nArt Degraded\, Imagination Denied\, War Governed the Nations. \n—William Blake \n  \nPEACE \n  \nEarly Morning Hours \n  \nFrom the house silence flows \nto the ebony lawn \nglittering like a river. \nA small candle flickers\, \nmirroring the moon \nsliding down night’s curve. \nFir branches stand against the sky\, \nthe hours’ tall sentinels\, \nand the hum inside silence \nfills each shadowed crevice\, \nthe world inundated. \n  \n  \nThe Only Now \n  \nThe stripped body lies burrowed \nin a flower well\, utterly still\, \nand one wonders \nif it has died into the nectar. \nSheltered by night\, \nin the morning the bee resumes \nsipping\, covered in pollen \nbumbling from flower to flower\, \nhis home where he stops\, \nsatiated with sugared gold\, \nhis life and eating and bliss\, \nsleep and journey all one. \n  \n  \nUnexpected \n  \nRampant weeds crowd bee balm and hyssop\, \ndirt clings to roots\, leaves bend \nand in the midst of this fecundity\, \nI am digging\, pulling\, only \nthe sun’s heat on my back. \nMoving through the afternoon quiet \na feathered sound of wings \nis near\, slower and closer\, \nand a light weight comes to rest on my head. \nCould it be? I reach a hand up\, \nthe wings lift\, rise\, and are gone. \n  \n  \nThe Tree in the Universe \n  \nLight glints off cherries in the branches \nswaying slightly in summer breezes. \n  \nI too am swinging\, shimmering\, high \nin the tree\, resting in a dark trunk \n  \nadrift and asleep\, the sky \ndappling the light in the tree\, \n  \nabove the ground air my companion\, birds \nmy companions\, jumping and wondering\, \n  \nall of us in the branches\, in the light\, \ntime a mystery that moves in the tree\, \n  \noff the ground\, as my vision\, \nmy mind unrolls in front of me \n  \ncarrying my heart forward and backward\, \ninward\, time and space a single pulse \n  \nand the cherries shine\, the tree grows \nquietly upward and outward\, carrying me\, \n  \nthe birds\, and all around\, all around\, \nright here in the branches\, in time and in sight\, \n  \nI see that\, yes\, yes\, each particle\, \neach moment turning in the sky\, \n  \nin the tree\, flowing between us\, \nin us\, what I imagined\, what I dreamed \n  \nand dreaded and is now here—all of it divine. \n  \n—Deborah Buchanan \n* \n  \nA couple months ago my friend Ken Margolis was listening to the news. He heard a report on the war in Ukraine. Both sides were said to be running low on ammunition\, because they were both using 1\,ooo artillery shells per day. Two thousand artillery shells per day! More than one per minute. It was insane. He told his friends\, including me. He wondered: Is there is anything we can do to bring this war to an end? That question prompted me to choose the theme “Peace” for this month’s peace\, love\, happiness & understanding. The word “peace” has two main connotations: the absence of war\, and a calm\, quiet state of mind. When I invited people to contribute to this issue\, I said the topic is “peace\,” but didn’t specify which kind of peace. \n  \nFor me\, the “two kinds of peace” are not unrelated. In the early Eighties I wrote a fairly long essay called “The Ecology of Violence\, the Ecology of Peace: A Lived Revolution—Personally\, Locally\, Globally.” In it\, I explored topics like Authority\, Poverty\, Education\, Cruelty\, the Media\, Meditation\, Economics\, Ideology\, Ecology\, Family\, Culture\, Community\, and many more. One of the primary insights of Ecology is that everything is  inter-related to everything else. The Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh spoke of “interbeing.” It seems to me that our “job” is to help to co-create a culture that nurtures all people\, and to learn or re-learn how humans can live on this planet without destroying it—like all the other animals do. \n  \nMy outlook on life has been shaped by the fact that instead of going to Vietnam to kill people\, I went to India and studied with wise yogis. When I think of war\, instead of thinking about brave soldiers fighting to make the world a better place\, I think of that photograph of Vietnamese children who have been bombed with jellied gasoline. Every day the war goes on in Ukraine\, more children die. More mothers and fathers\, sisters and brothers die. It’s insane. \n  \nHere’s a poem I wrote: \n  \nMy Foolproof Plan for World Peace \n  \nI hereby declare today to be International Love Day. \nAnd a General Armistice. \nAll hostilities must cease on International Love Day. \nHenceforward\, every day is International Love Day. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nAlex sent this poem by Tom Clark: \n  \nBolinas \n  \nMy wife’s recipe for a fairy: \nPut buttercup pollen \nAnd a canary feather \nIn a thimble. At midnight\, \nImmersed in my life’s current \nHowever it may flow \nIn the giant life around it \nThat whispers like a tree \nRocked by evening light\, \nA tide of beams \nBears my dreambound boat. \nThe boughs drop peace\, \nA star wanders toward dawn \nOver the dim wet leaves. \n  \n—Tom Clark \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nTo me lately\, peacefulness is just being a happy person and trying to make others understand happiness in just a few seconds of every moment. If one can achieve this their life will be happy. I found this secret on my journey to the golden path. A friend told me about the golden path years ago. I live there now and the town I live in on the golden path is called simple bliss. \n  \nI also find peace in the sweat of my brow from a job well done. I can’t wait to work hard for the ones I love. Peace is free and it lives inside of us and if you have it in you\, my friends\, give it to those that don’t. \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \n  \nSiddhartha’s prayer     \n  \nWhen they asked why he left \nhis people and his palace\,  \nthe response rose like fragrance from summer’s garden. \nThere is peace in every breath\, he said\, \nand every heartbeat \nand every footstep \nthat will no longer be forgotten \nor forsaken. \nI wish every thought to be a prayer \nevery word to be a poem \nevery touch an act of love\, \nand all to be  \nas it already is. \n               – amen \n  \n—Bill Faricy \n* \n  \nSurrounded \nMemorial Day 2023 \n  \nPerhaps there is the sound of water\, \nthe feel of a light breeze\, comfortable \nwarmth\, rustling leaves. \n  \nMaybe the colors make harmonies\, \nsmell of sandalwood\, taste \nof cardamom on the tongue. \n  \nThe temptation of a ladder rung \nto a nest above ruins sharp \nedged with smoke\, mist. \n  \nMissed. We’re here. This list \nof all that’s lost\, endless. Still \nfingers uncurl from a fist. \n  \nIn the end everyone was right. \nAll we wanted was a sense of \nbelonging\, a path\, not a fight. \n  \nInstead\, a respite\, for now. \nForever? The crowd surrounds us\, \nwhether we are aware\, or not. \n  \n—Elizabeth Domike \n* \n                          Peace Tree \n  \nMy calling is to rise. My purpose is to reach. \nWhere buildings fall\, I stand silent in the shouting. \nEven in billowing dust\, I begin the next peace. If  \nyou splinter me\, I will heal. After the battle\, I will  \nsilhouette dawn. I have seen seasons pass\, the rising  \nof anger\, fury of the storm\, return of calm. I’m still \nyearning for the sun\, still delving into dark. Rooted \npatriot of Earth\, I drink the sky to give you breath. \nNeutral in war\, I shade both sides. Send my seeds  \nacross the border\, I will be your diplomat of green. \nIf you plant me beside the graves of soldiers\, I will \nsay to their mothers with my leaves what they  \nmight have said in the wind that stirs. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nPeace Within\, Peace Without \n  \nWho doesn’t want to have peace within him or herself? Who doesn’t want to have world peace? I would say there are very few people in either category—a few\, maybe\, but not many. \n  \nHere is an inside aside: \nCan you have peace without love? \nCan you have peace without joy\, either within yourself or in the ‘world?’ \nIs peace synonymous with love? Is love synonymous with joy? \nAre there other words that define or are requirements for peace? Compassion? Connection? \n  \nWell\, I’m just throwing these out there\, as you can see\, but let’s go back to peace within/peace without. \n  \nHow can you be at peace within yourself and not be concerned about the world? It is overwhelming to think about trying to ‘fix’ the world\, for sure. We all know how that feels. Might as well give up on that and just work on being at peace within yourself\, right? Well\, that is impossible\, my friends. A spirit at peace is one who gnaws away\, tackles\, wrestles with—inch by inch\, foot by foot—-some part of the exterior world that is hurting\, be it other humans\, other creatures\, the world of nature. We do the work often never knowing whether or not we are achieving change\, lessening hurt\, creating love\, creating bond and connection and unity. This is not why we do it; we do the work because the work itself is what grows peace within us. And—-we have to do it.  \n  \nHa ha—but don’t get the idea that it is easy. It can be frightening\, hurtful\, frustrating\, and really hard; but something in us is propelled to keep on. And whatever that ‘something’ is\, brings (paradoxically) an inner peace. \n  \nSo we have to be in the world\, doing our bit\, small as it is; but always\, all of it\, from all of us is growing peace in the world. And just think if each and every one were to do this! World Peace!!! \n  \nWorking on the peace without is essential for the peace within…and vice versa. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nThe trouble with peace seems to be that it isn’t enough for us. Of course\, war is the ultimate step in a power struggle to determine who gets the gold and the throne. So\, in that sense\, battle skills are the most useful of all skills. \n  \nBut there is something more. At the same time we fear war\, we lust after it. We sing of arms and the man. War becomes the context for heroism\, nobility\, and deep companionship. It also destroys the beautiful\, kills the innocent\, and generates hatred in future generations. \n  \nIn spite of Elon Musk and other technological self-deceivers\, most people feel intuitively that life and death form some sort of continuum. To manifest its cycle of renewal\, life needs death. Does peace need war in some mysterious way? \n  \nWhen we think of Heaven\, we think No More War\, green meadows and grandchildren on our knee\, not the whole thing blown to bits by an incoming drone. War has its lobby\, its advocates and advertisers\, its prophets and profiteers. It’s only fair that a few of us take the other\, apparently less popular side\, and advocate for peace. \n  \n—Ken Margolis \n* \n  \n“Peace has been a theme in some of our earlier issues. Take a look at the peace\,love\, happiness & understanding Archive on the Open Road website. Here’s from June 24\, 2021: \n  \nhttps://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-6-24-21/ \n  \nFor July\, send me something about your own vision of Utopia or Paradise. \n  \npeace\,   \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-6-1-23/
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DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230602T173000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230602T193000
DTSTAMP:20260426T015709
CREATED:20230528T180744Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20230528T182237Z
UID:3948-1685727000-1685734200@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Roadside Attraction at Friday Night Market  6/2/23
DESCRIPTION:  \nRoadside Attraction\, featuring Morgan Faricy\, is playing at Friday Night Market in Milwaukie\, on June 2nd\, from 5:30 to 7:30. \nThe address is: \nMilwaukie Floral \nSE Lake Road \n  \nThis is a benefit of Open Hearts Open Minds. \n  \nBring your friends! \n  \npeace\, love & music \nJohnny
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/roadside-attraction-at-friday-night-market-6-2-23/
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BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230604T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230604T170000
DTSTAMP:20260426T015709
CREATED:20230601T150745Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20230728T012251Z
UID:3964-1685890800-1685898000@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!  6/4/23
DESCRIPTION:  \n \n  \nBeloved Bibliophiles \n  \nWe will have Poetry Reading! for Bibliophiles Unanimous! on Sunday\, June 4th. The Featured Poets are Elizabeth Domike & Alex Tretbar. \nThe Zoom gathering commences at 3 pm (PDT). Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/87614013058 \n  \nBring along a poem or two of your own. \nSee you there! \n  \npeace\, love & poetry \nJohnny \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-6-4-23/
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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20230615
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20230715
DTSTAMP:20260426T015709
CREATED:20230620T001103Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250717T162413Z
UID:4009-1686787200-1689379199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  6/15/23
DESCRIPTION:  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nJune 15\, 2023 \n  \nWe were talking about the love we all could share \nWhen we find it\, to try our best to hold it there with our love \nWith our love\, we could save the world…. \n  \nAnd the time will come when you see we’re all one \nAnd life flows on within you and without you \n  \n—George Harrison \n* \n  \nIn Fyodor Dostoevsky’s great novel The Brothers Karamazov there is a monk named Father Zossima. When I first read the novel\, almost fifty years ago\, I was impressed with the Father Zossima’s (Fyodor Dostoevsky’s) words. I still am: \n  \nBrothers\, do not be afraid of men’s sin\, love man also in his sin\, for this likeness of God’s love is the height of love on earth. Love all of God’s creation\, both the whole of it and every grain of sand. Love every leaf\, every ray of God’s light. Love animals\, love plants\, love each thing. If you love each thing\, you will perceive the mystery of God in things. Once you have perceived it\, you will begin tirelessly to perceive more and more of it every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an entire\, universal love…. \n  \nMy friends\, ask joy from God. Be joyful as children\, as birds in the air…. \n  \nWhen you are alone\, pray. Love to throw yourself down on the earth and kiss it. Kiss the earth and love it\, tirelessly\, insatiably\, love all men\, love all things\, seek this rapture and ecstasy. Water the earth with the tears of your joy\, and love those tears. Do not be ashamed of this ecstasy\, treasure it\, for it is a gift from God\, a great gift\, and it is not given to many\, but to those who are chosen. \n  \n—Fyodor Dostoevsky\, The Brothers Karamazov\, translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky\, pp. 338-341) \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nOn June 12\, I sat down to write a note on mindfulness; my computer said it was National Loving Day\, which celebrates the right to marry or not marry the person we love. It led me to be most mindful today and this week about the person I have been married to for almost 50 years. To begin anew\, with fresh eyes for the things about him I most cherish. Not just as a father of my children.  \n  \nUnaware It was a week early\, we celebrated Father’s Day last Sunday with our children and grandchildren by going to a baseball game. My husband\, Bill\, was happy all day\, enjoying a day off from work and gardening\, being in an element of his youth that he could share with the younger generation. It was so good to see him totally engaged.   \n  \nBill is an introvert\, 98% according to the test\, and so he can be easily satisfied living in a solitary way with little social involvement\, enjoying his tea and crossword and books and garden and a movie online. But getting out of that can also easily give him a burst of energy.  \n  \nMindful of my extroverted side that includes many friends and adventures\, I am accompanying him this week on his trip to the post office\, or to the deli\, or to the hardware/feed store. Then taking a few minutes aside for a picnic or a walk before sunset\, or even to sit together in the garden and watch the teenage chicks practice flying. I’m aware of how grateful I am to have the freedom to have a loving relationship\, and that we can share such simple joys. It’s so easy to take this for granted. Being mindful adds an extra spot of honey to our tea. And it makes others glad to be around us. As Thich Nhat Hanh liked to say\, “Happiness is not an individual matter!” \n  \nBelow is a link to the life-changing story of the Loving’s decision to marry: \n  \nhttps://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2023/06/12/loving-day-supreme-court-interracial-marriage-loving-virginia/70313073007/ \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \n#333 Recognizing Negative Energy  \nfrom Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \n“Negative habit energy always tries to emerge\, but if you’re mindful\, you recognize it. Mindfulness helps us to recognize the habits transmitted by our ancestors and parents\, or learned during our childhood. Often\, just recognizing these habits will make them lose their hold on you.” \n  \nLast year I found a great children’s book called Fortunately\, Unfortunately. It was a story about a little boy on his way to a birthday party. UNFORTUNATELY\, a bear started chasing him and he dropped his present. FORTUNATELY\, an eagle-eyed eagle swooped down and hooked the present’s bow in his beak and dropped it at the feet of the little boy. Gratefully\, the boy scooped it up and continued on his way. UNFORTUNATELY\, a gang of rascals…etc. etc. Finally\, of course\, FORTUNATELY\, he ends up at the party and gives his present to the little girl. \n  \nSo I read this story to my grandkids in Bozeman\, and they loved it. Then I said\, “Let’s make up our own story and draw a book and send it to your cousins in Arizona.” Which we did\, and spent 3-4 hours writing\, making art\, and thinking up funny stuff.  \n  \nSo I thought\, This is how I think\, automatically! If something is wrong\, or sad\, or difficult\, I say\, “Yes\, but just think of what ____ is going through everyday.” Or: “Yeah\, it really is pouring rain today\, but doesn’t everything smell so sweet now?” I have always done this; I’d never really thought about it until I read this story.  \n  \nAnd then I thought—What a great topic for prison group dialogue! So I asked: “How do you react or respond in these cases?” Discussion discussion!!  \n  \nAnd then the really fun part: We went around the circle and traded Fortunately/Unfortunately sentences\, the crazier the better. There were giraffes involved\, and badgers\, and 100 foot deep wells\, and 10\,000 foot high mountains\, and blonde wigs\, and zits\, and… Well\, it was crazy and hilarious and so much fun\, and it all told us a lot about all of us\, almost all positive. \n  \nSo that’s my take on recognizing negative energy. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nFeeling Old \n  \nLeaves begin to curl. Limbs begin \nto sag. The tree begins to lean. Know \nthe feeling? My buds—not so plump. \nMy heartwood—dry. My bark begins \nto wither\, my roots to lose their grip. \n  \nBut hey—the sun shines bright as ever. \nAll that fell to earth has turned to treasure\, \nthe sky’s still calling me to rise in praise\, \nand rain bestows that flavor fine as my \nfirst sip when a sapling with no name. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nThis amazing planet we live on is already Paradise. We can eat the grasses and the grains. Fruit fills the trees. There are fellow creatures to love and laugh with. This beautiful world is a gift.   \n  \nWe still live in the Garden of Eden. We just don’t take very good care of it.   \n  \nAll water is holy water. And every day is a holy day. \n  \n—Bill Faricy \n* \n  \nMichel finished reading The Compassion Book by Pema Chödrön in early May\, and for the rest of the month used Be Free Where You Are as the basis for the meditations in his journal. Be Free Where You Are is the record of a talk given by Thich Nhat Hanh at the Maryland Correctional Institute\, which was published in May of 2002. \n  \nMay 15\, 2023  You are a Miracle (part 2) \n“Dear Friends\, you are nothing less than a miracle. There may be times when you feel that you are worthless. But you are nothing less than a miracle. The fact that you are here—alive and capable of breathing in and out—is simple proof that you are a miracle. One string bean contains the whole cosmos in it: sunshine\, rain\, the whole earth\, time\, space and consciousness. You also contain the whole cosmos.” \n  \nDo you “feel” like a miracle? Seriously! Do you feel the wonder and amazement of “be”ing alive\, being able to breathe\, move\, exist? Each of us is valuable\, even when we believe the lies that we are not. I know it is hard to drown out the noise of self-doubt and hate\, wherever it arises from and for whatever cause; whatever the noise\, it’s a LIE! You\, me\, all of us—we are a miraculous creation\, here on Earth for some purpose. Fundamentally: to “be”—nothing more. Though many struggle to achieve even merely “be”ing\, it’s what we are: “be”ings. We can add to that by breathing\, walking eating…all our “do”ings too. Then\, there’s passing on genes\, knowledge\, wisdom to the next generation. Yet\, somehow\, with all the noise of “do”ing\, we forget “be”ing and how miraculous “be”ing is. I also believe we have one other purpose as we toddle along to our mouldering\, and that is LOVE. Love as appreciation of the miracle that is life\, appreciation for other “be”ings participating in the wonderful\, miraculous\, cacophony that is our life. (Certainly we’re averse to certain experiences\, thus memories linger and trepidation arises about past and future. None of that is real any longer\, nor will be.) Breathe\, smile\, “be” aware; there’s a special miracle in this world and it’s you. I know\, sounds trite and contrived. And it is…if you and I refuse to see the miracle of the cosmos that each of us is; breathe (deliberately)\, smile (knowing this cosmological secret)\, and be aware (of what it takes for you or I to continue to exist…) “You are a miracle!” Me too! \n  \n—Michel Deforge
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-6-15-23/
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DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230617T130000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230617T150000
DTSTAMP:20260426T015709
CREATED:20230509T171654Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20230613T180550Z
UID:3873-1687006800-1687014000@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:the dialogue continues...
DESCRIPTION:the dialogue continues… \n  \nThis monthly gathering in the Artspace room at Taborspace in Portland\, 5441 SE Belmont\, is a continuation of the meaning of life dialogues we had in Oregon prisons–at Two Rivers\, Columbia River & Coffee Creek. These Saturday dialogues are open to everyone.  \nThe first one was on April 15th\, 2023. The next two will be on Saturdays\, at 1 p.m.: June 17th & July 15th. There will be snacks! You are invited!
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/the-dialogue-continues/
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DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230618T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230618T170000
DTSTAMP:20260426T015709
CREATED:20230614T171652Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20230614T173016Z
UID:4000-1687100400-1687107600@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!  6/18/23
DESCRIPTION:The Golden Age by Lucas Cranach the Elder \n  \nBeloved Bibliophiles \n  \nOur theme for Sunday\, June 18th is Visions of Utopia & Paradise. \nThe Zoom gathering commences at 3 pm (PDT). Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/87614013058 \n  \nSee you there! \n  \npeace\, love & happiness \nJohnny \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-6-18-23/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Goldenes-Zeitalter-1530-2.jpg
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DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230618T190000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20230618T210000
DTSTAMP:20260426T015709
CREATED:20230603T155045Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20230603T160058Z
UID:3970-1687114800-1687122000@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Illuminated: Myths\, Poems & Music for the Summer Solstice  6/18/23
DESCRIPTION:         \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\nStoryteller Will Hornyak Presents\n\n  \n\n\n\n         \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n   Illuminated \n\n\n\n\n         \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\nMyths\, Poems and Music for the Summer Solstice\n         \n\n\n\n \n\n\n From fiery feathers and the longing for light\, to tales of summer days ‘gone fishin\,’ join us for a celebration of the longest\, brightest days of the year.  Special guest musician Jeffrey Sher joins in for a tribute to Father’s Day. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n         \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n Sunday June 18   7 p.m.\n      Ross Island Grocery and Cafe\n      3502 SW Corbett   Portland\n      Great Food and Drinks Available\n$15.00  Advance Tickets Recommended:\n\n\n\n\n\n         \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\nhttps://www.eventbrite.com/e/illuminated-myths-poems-and-music-for-the-summer-solstice-tickets-646775501937
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/illuminated-myths-poems-music-for-the-summer-solstice-6-18-23/
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