How many jnanis/jivanmuktis in N America? - long

[Guest guest]

On 8/18/01 at 7:08 PM Hbarrett47 wrote:

 

ºIn a message dated 8/18/01 10:19:21 AM Mountain Daylight Time,

ºaoclery writes:

º

º<< India produces them because it is the only country on the planet

º that has preserved the spirituality of the ancients. >>

º

ºHuh? What about Native America, Mesoamerica, Latin America, western

ºAfrica,

ºand so on? I personally know an African-American jivanmukti (to use your

ºword). He lives quietly and anonymously in Washington, D.C. and used to

ºbe

ºmy next-door neighbor. Your racism is showing, Tony.

 

That reminds of the lectures of Tuiavii - a Samoan chief who warned his

fellow-islanders for the dangers of Western "civilization"... The chief didn't

have to parrot scriptures - he had visited Europe and was "just himself"... An

excerpt translated from German:

-------------------------------

The severe disease of thinking

 

When the word "spirit" enters the mouth of a Papalagi, his eyes grow big, round

and fixated; he raises his himself, starts breathing heavily and stretches

himself like a warrior who has slain the enemy. Because this 'spirit' is

something he is particularly pride on. We aren't speaking from the vast,

powerful Spirit, which the missionary calls "God", from Whom we are but a needy

image, but from the little Spirit, belonging to man, who is creating his

thoughts. When I'm looking from here at the mango tree behind the church, that

isn't Spirit, because I only see it. But when I recognize that he is bigger than

the church from the mission, well, that has to be Spirit. So I just don't have

to see something, but I have to know something as well. This knowing is what the

Papalagi is practicing from sunrise to sunset. His spirit is always like a

filled gun or like an ever active fishing rod. Therefore he pities our people of

the many islands, because we aren't practicing this knowing. We are poor spirits

and dumb like a wild animal.

 

It may be true, we are little practicing this knowing, what the Papalagi is

calling 'thinking'. But the question is, which one is dumb; the one thinking

little or the one thinking too much. The Papalagi is thinking continuously: "my

hut is smaller than the palm tree, the palm tree is bowing from the storm, the

storm is speaking with a loud voice." That is the way of his thinking, be it in

his way of course. But he is thinking about himself too: "I am small. My heart

always rejoices when seeing a girl. How I love it to go to Malaga." And so on...

 

That is merry and good and may have many hidden uses for the one, loving this

game in his head. But the Papalagi is thinking so much, that thinking became a

habit, necessity, even a compulsion. Ever he has to think. Only with great

difficulty, he manages not to think, and to live with his entire body. Often, he

is living just with his head, while all senses are completely dormant, although

he is going, speaking, eating and laughing. The thinking process, the thoughts -

these are the fruits of thinking - keep him imprisoned. It is a kind of

intoxication from his own thoughts. When the sun is shining beautifully, he is

thinking immediately: "how beautifully it is shining!" Always he thinks: "how

beautifully it is shining at this moment." That is wrong, fundamentally wrong

and foolish. Because it is better, not to think at all, when it is shining. An

intelligent Samoan stretches his limbs in the warm light and doesn't think at

it. He doesn't absorb the sun just with his head, but also with hands, feet,

thighs, stomach, with all limbs. He lets his skin and limbs think for

themselves, and certainly are they thinking, be it different than the head. For

the Papalagi however, thinking is in many ways like a big chunk of lava he can't

get out of the way. He is thinking in a merry way but doesn't laugh; he is

thinking sadly but doesn't cry. He is hungry but doesn't take Taro or Palusami.

Mostly he is a man, whose senses are living in hostility with his spirit; a man,

split in two. The life of a Papalagi resembles in many ways to a man, making a

journey by boat to Savaii and, leaving the shore, immediately thinks: "How long

will it take before I arrive at Savaii?" He is thinking, but doesn't see the

pleasant scenery through which the journey is going. Soon, at the left bank, he

sees a mountain ridge. As soon as his eyes capture it, he can't get away from

it: "What could be behind the mountain? Is it a deep or a narrow bay?" By

thinking in such a way, he forgets to sing along with the youngsters, he doesn't

hear the merry jokes of the young women. Hardly the boat is lying in the bay

behind the mountain ridge or he is tortured with a new thought, if a storm will

start before the evening. Yes, if a storm will be coming. At a clear sky he is

looking for dark clouds. He is ever thinking of the storm that possibly could

arrive. The storm doesn't come, and he arrives at Savaii in the evening,

unharmed. But now it is to him, as if he didn't undertake the journey at all,

because always his thoughts were far from his body and outside of the boat. He

could have stayed in his hut in Upolu just as well.

 

A spirit however, torturing us that way, is a devil and I don't understand why

so many are loving it. The Papalagi loves and honors his spirit and feeds his

spirit with thoughts from his head. He never lets it fast, but at the same time

he isn't troubled when the thoughts are mutually feeding on each other. He makes

a lot of noise with his thoughts and allows them to be loud as uneducated kids.

He behaves as if his thoughts were as exquisite as flowers, mountains and woods.

[...]

He behaves, as if there would be a command that man has to think much. Yes, that

this command would be from God. But when the palm trees and the mountains are

thinking, they don't make such a noise with it. And certainly, if the palm trees

would think as loudly and wild as the Papalagi, they wouldn't have beautiful

green leaves and golden fruits. (Because it is firm experience, that thinking

accelerates aging and makes ugly). They would fall (from the tree) before they

would be ripe. However, it is more probable that they are thinking very little.

 

This thinking should make the mind great and high. If someone is thinking much

and fast, in Europe they say such a one is a great mind. Instead of having

compassion with such great minds, they are extraordinarily honored. The villages

make them to their chiefs, and wherever a great mind comes, he has to think

publicly what to all affords pleasure and is admired a lot. When a great mind

dies, there is grieving in the entire country and a lot of wailing for what has

been lost. An image of such a great mind is made in natural stone and installed

before all eyes at the market place. Yes, these heads of stone are made much

bigger than they were in life, so that the peope really admires them and can

reflect on the own little mind.

 

If one asks a Papalagi: why do you think so much? he answers: because I don't

want and am not allowed to stay stupid. Worthless , every Papalagi who doesn't

think; although essentially he is prudent, he he doesn't think much and yet

finds his way. However I think, this is just a pretext and the Papalagi just

goes after his urge. That the real purpose of his thinking is, to find out the

forces of the great Spirit. An occupation, he himself calls eloquently

"acknowledge". Acknowledge, that means to have a thing so clearly before one's

eyes, that one is touching it with the nose, yes is piercing it. This piercing

and ransacking is a tastless and contemptible desire of the Papalagi. He takes a

centipede, pierces it with a little spear and tears a leg away. How does such a

leg, separated from the body, look like? How was it fixed to the body? he breaks

the leg in order to measure the thikness. That is important, is essential. He

removes a splinter the size of a grain of sand from the leg and lays it under a

long tube with a secret force enabling the eyes to see much more sharply. With

this big and strong eye he ransacks everything, your tears, a shred of the skin,

a hair, everything and everything. He divides all these things, until he arrives

at a point, where there remains nothing to break or to divide. Although this

point is the smallest of the smallest, it is anyhow the most essential, because

it is the entrance, only the great Spirit does possess. This entry is also

denied to the Papalagi, and his best sorceries still haven't revealed it yet.

The great Spirit doesn't have its secrets taken away. Never. Never did anyone

climb a palm tree, higher than that palm tree his legs surrounded. At the crown

he has to turn; the trunk would fail to climb higher. The great Spirit doesn't

love the curiosity of mankind, therefore he has put big lianas that are without

beginning and end. Therefore anyone, investigating all thoughts, certainly

discover, that in the end he will always remain stupid and will have to leave

those answers he can't give himself to the great Spirit. The most intelligent

and courageous of the Papalagi actually acknowledge this. Nevertheless most

thinking-diseased ones don't desist their passion, and so it comes, that the

thinking leads man on his way so manifoldly astray, as if he would be going in

the jungle where no path has been made yet.

[...]

Serious and disastreous is therefore, that all thoughts, whether good or bad,

immediately are thrown on white mats. "They are printed" says the Papalagi. That

means: what those ill ones are thinking, now also is written with a machine that

is mysterious and miraculous, that has thousand hands and the strong will of

many chiefs. Written not once or twice, but many times, infinite times, ever the

same thoughts. Then, many thought-mats are pressed together - "books" the

Papalagi calls them - and send to all parts of the big country. All are

infected, to absorb these thoughts. And one is swallowing these thought-mats

like sweet bananas, they are in every hut, one piles up entire boxes and young

and old will be nagging at it like rats at sugar cane. That is the reason, why

so few still can think intelligently in natural thoughts, like every sincere

Samoan has. In the same way as many thoughts are shoveled into the heads of

children as can be. Every day they are forced to nag their quantity of

thought-mats. Only the healthiest reject these thoughts or let them fall through

their spirit like through a net. But the most overload their head with so many

thoughts, that no more space is left and no more light can enter.This is called:

"educate the spirit" and the remaining condition of such a mess "education",

that is common. Education is called: filling one's head to the brim with

knowledge. The educated one knows the length of palm trees, the weight of a

coconut, the names of all his chiefs and the eras of their wars. He knows the

size of the moon, the stars, and all countries. He knows every river by name,

every animal and every plant. He knows everything and everything. Put a question

to an educated one and he shoots the answer at you before you close your mouth.

His head is ever loaded with ammunition, is ever ready to fire. Every European

dedicates the most beautiful time of his life to make his head to the fastes

gun. He who wants to be exempt from that, is forced. Every Papalagi has to know,

has to think.

 

The only thing, that all diseased from thinking could cure, forgetting, slinging

away thoughts, isn't practiced: therefore, only very few are able to do so and

most are carrying a burden in the head, making the body heavy, powerless and

weak before its time. Should we, their loving, not thinking brothers, after

everything I told you in genuine truth, really imitate the Papalagi and learn to

think as he does? I say: No! Because we should not and must not do anything,

that doesn't make a stronger body and doesn't give a greater sense of joy and

uplifting. We have to beware from everything, that could rob us the joy of life,

for everything, that darkens our spirit and takes away its brilliant light, for

everything, that will cause our head to fight our body. The Papalagi proves us

by himself, that thinking is a severe disease, decreasing the value of a man

manifold.

[Guest guest]

, "jb" <janb@a...> wrote:

> On 8/18/01 at 7:08 PM Hbarrett47@a... wrote:

>

> ºIn a message dated 8/18/01 10:19:21 AM Mountain Daylight Time,

> ºaoclery writes:

> º

> º<< India produces them because it is the only country on the planet

> º that has preserved the spirituality of the ancients. >>

> º

> ºHuh? What about Native America, Mesoamerica, Latin America,

western

> ºAfrica,

> ºand so on? I personally know an African-American jivanmukti (to

use your

> ºword). He lives quietly and anonymously in Washington, D.C. and

used to

> ºbe

> ºmy next-door neighbor. Your racism is showing, Tony.

>

> That reminds of the lectures of Tuiavii - a Samoan chief who warned

his fellow-islanders for the dangers of Western "civilization"... The

chief didn't have to parrot scriptures - he had visited Europe and

was "just himself"... An excerpt translated from German:

> -------------------------------

> The severe disease of thinking

>

 

Namaste jb,

 

I'm afraid I don't think enough to get your point. What was that

samoan blurb all about? My thinking on jnanis was based on Maharaj and

I agree with him........ONS.....Tony.

[Guest guest]

On 8/19/01 at 4:23 PM Tony O'Clery wrote:

 

º, "jb" <janb@a...> wrote:

º> On 8/18/01 at 7:08 PM Hbarrett47@a... wrote:

º>

º> ºIn a message dated 8/18/01 10:19:21 AM Mountain Daylight Time,

º> ºaoclery writes:

º> º

º> º<< India produces them because it is the only country on the planet

 

º> º that has preserved the spirituality of the ancients. >>

º> º

º> ºHuh? What about Native America, Mesoamerica, Latin America,

ºwestern

º> ºAfrica,

º> ºand so on? I personally know an African-American jivanmukti (to

ºuse your

º> ºword). He lives quietly and anonymously in Washington, D.C. and

ºused to

º> ºbe

º> ºmy next-door neighbor. Your racism is showing, Tony.

º>

º> That reminds of the lectures of Tuiavii - a Samoan chief who warned

ºhis fellow-islanders for the dangers of Western "civilization"... The

ºchief didn't have to parrot scriptures - he had visited Europe and

ºwas "just himself"... An excerpt translated from German:

º> -------------------------------

º> The severe disease of thinking

º>

º

ºNamaste jb,

º

ºI'm afraid I don't think enough to get your point. What was that

ºsamoan blurb all about? My thinking on jnanis was based on Maharaj and

ºI agree with him........ONS.....Tony.

 

Which is an opinion about an opinion which I label as "worthless".

 

Regards,

Jan