Calls to Congress Needed TODAY: White House Hijacks Patriot R

[Guest guest]

In a message dated 11/17/2005 2:13:28 PM Pacific Standard Time,

Nisargadatta writes:

 

Of note, of conscience, perhaps...

To take action...or not...

 

To discuss any part/parcel of spirituality/enlightenment and not take action

on the physical level with issues that need addressing is , in my honest

opinion,

unconscionable. A word I have used for many years...

 

 

Love,

Ana

 

 

 

The butterfly flaps it's wings

Because it is it's nature.

And what is it's nature

But it's essence

From which it cannot hide?

 

Must it ground itself

In fear and shame

And shed a tiny tear

In seeing what has become

Of it's own expression?

 

The breeze turns

Ever so slightly downward

And gently kisses the Earth

In a way that would not have been,

And joins more of it's kind,

Racing skyward in wanton lust

To feel itself

Against the rustling leaves.

 

And does it gasp in horror

in idle witness to what follows,

Or is it just a playful breeze

Seeking the wonder

Of becoming a storm?

 

As gales rage and swirl

And trees are toppled

and heaven darkens with fury

Is there one apart

Who can raise a hand

And declare in anger

Or noble indignation

" Cease! What is, must not be! "

 

There is no such a one

Amidst the swirling orgasm

Of creation and destruction.

And it doesn't matter.

 

Is the clap of thunder

That shakes the bed

And awakens the sleeper

.......A mistake?

 

No, rather it is an awakening

That softens the arrogance

Of the hapless sleeper

Who in his slumber

Would stand apart from the storm

And silence it's nature

As though he had one

Of his very own.

 

Let it be what it is,

For we know how to awaken

From our own nightmares.

 

Phil

 

 

 

 

[Guest guest]

-

ADHHUB

Nisargadatta

Thursday, November 17, 2005 8:13 PM

Re: Calls to Congress Needed TODAY: White House

Hijacks Patriot R

 

 

 

In a message dated 11/17/2005 2:13:28 PM Pacific Standard Time,

Nisargadatta writes:

 

Of note, of conscience, perhaps...

To take action...or not...

 

To discuss any part/parcel of spirituality/enlightenment and not take action

on the physical level with issues that need addressing is , in my honest

opinion,

unconscionable. A word I have used for many years...

 

 

Love,

Ana

 

 

 

The butterfly flaps it's wings

Because it is it's nature.

And what is it's nature

But it's essence

From which it cannot hide?

 

Must it ground itself

In fear and shame

And shed a tiny tear

In seeing what has become

Of it's own expression?

 

The breeze turns

Ever so slightly downward

And gently kisses the Earth

In a way that would not have been,

And joins more of it's kind,

Racing skyward in wanton lust

To feel itself

Against the rustling leaves.

 

And does it gasp in horror

in idle witness to what follows,

Or is it just a playful breeze

Seeking the wonder

Of becoming a storm?

 

As gales rage and swirl

And trees are toppled

and heaven darkens with fury

Is there one apart

Who can raise a hand

And declare in anger

Or noble indignation

" Cease! What is, must not be! "

 

There is no such a one

Amidst the swirling orgasm

Of creation and destruction.

And it doesn't matter.

 

Is the clap of thunder

That shakes the bed

And awakens the sleeper

......A mistake?

 

No, rather it is an awakening

That softens the arrogance

Of the hapless sleeper

Who in his slumber

Would stand apart from the storm

And silence it's nature

As though he had one

Of his very own.

 

Let it be what it is,

For we know how to awaken

From our own nightmares.

 

Phil

 

 

 

Beautiful Phil,

 

advaita means one-not one-not two,

 

the storm subsides for we know sunlight,

the silence is for we have heard all words

in both praise and dedication and trials

of tribulations, acknowledgments and

judgments even as arrogance sleeps in

the hearts of those who would hide from

suffering reality,the flesh, ripped and torn

asunder in the downward spiral of human

DNA, the sleeper awakens, to the matter

of what Is IS, Kundalini awakens lovers

of life in an upwards spiral, oh, listen to the

sound and the beauty of a butterfly as she

unfurls her wings in the palms of our hands,

we must let go, to let go, we let go, she flies

and the sky weeps in gratitude as the rain that falls in the tears of

compassionate beings who understand both silence and right action, a

humanity of One-noOne.

 

Ana

 

 

 

Love,

Ana

 

 

 

 

[Guest guest]

In a message dated 11/18/2005 1:37:37 PM Pacific Standard Time,

Nisargadatta writes:

 

Of note, of conscience, perhaps...

To take action...or not...

 

To discuss any part/parcel of spirituality/enlightenment and not take action

on the physical level with issues that need addressing is , in my honest

opinion,

unconscionable. A word I have used for many years...

 

 

Love,

Ana

 

 

 

The butterfly flaps it's wings

Because it is it's nature.

And what is it's nature

But it's essence

From which it cannot hide?

 

Must it ground itself

In fear and shame

And shed a tiny tear

In seeing what has become

Of it's own expression?

 

The breeze turns

Ever so slightly downward

And gently kisses the Earth

In a way that would not have been,

And joins more of it's kind,

Racing skyward in wanton lust

To feel itself

Against the rustling leaves.

 

And does it gasp in horror

in idle witness to what follows,

Or is it just a playful breeze

Seeking the wonder

Of becoming a storm?

 

As gales rage and swirl

And trees are toppled

and heaven darkens with fury

Is there one apart

Who can raise a hand

And declare in anger

Or noble indignation

" Cease! What is, must not be! "

 

There is no such a one

Amidst the swirling orgasm

Of creation and destruction.

And it doesn't matter.

 

Is the clap of thunder

That shakes the bed

And awakens the sleeper

.......A mistake?

 

No, rather it is an awakening

That softens the arrogance

Of the hapless sleeper

Who in his slumber

Would stand apart from the storm

And silence it's nature

As though he had one

Of his very own.

 

Let it be what it is,

For we know how to awaken

From our own nightmares.

 

Phil

 

 

 

Beautiful Phil,

 

advaita means one-not one-not two,

 

the storm subsides for we know sunlight,

the silence is for we have heard all words

in both praise and dedication and trials

of tribulations, acknowledgments and

judgments even as arrogance sleeps in

the hearts of those who would hide from

suffering reality,the flesh, ripped and torn

asunder in the downward spiral of human

DNA, the sleeper awakens, to the matter

of what Is IS, Kundalini awakens lovers

of life in an upwards spiral, oh, listen to the

sound and the beauty of a butterfly as she

unfurls her wings in the palms of our hands,

we must let go, to let go, we let go, she flies

and the sky weeps in gratitude as the rain that falls in the tears of

compassionate beings who understand both silence and right action, a

humanity of One-noOne.

 

Ana

 

 

 

Love,

Ana

 

 

 

Thanks. This is fun.

 

The music

 

The two seek one

As music seeks it's own harmony.

 

The musician doesn't fix the notes

He plays them,

And if he's very, very good

He doesn't even play them

He becomes them.

For the sake of the music

 

The flute doesn't play the violin.

It adds it's fluteness

To the violinness

For the sake of the music.

 

Pitch does not stand resolute

But sacrifices it's perfection

To seek harmony until it is found

For the sake of the music.

 

The dancer is neither writer nor player

of the music

Nor is she the instrument which seeks harmony

Or the pitch that seeks resonance.

 

She is the eyes of the music

And if she's very, very good

She doesn't even dance

She becomes the music.

For the sake of the music.

 

The performance

Is a performance of one.

There is neither musician nor dancer.

For both have dissolved

in perfect harmony

Into the music.

For the sake of the music.

 

Phil

 

 

 

 

[Guest guest]

-

ADHHUB

Nisargadatta

Saturday, November 19, 2005 1:17 AM

Re: Calls to Congress Needed TODAY: White House

Hijacks Patriot R

 

 

 

In a message dated 11/18/2005 1:37:37 PM Pacific Standard Time,

Nisargadatta writes:

 

Of note, of conscience, perhaps...

To take action...or not...

 

To discuss any part/parcel of spirituality/enlightenment and not take action

on the physical level with issues that need addressing is , in my honest

opinion,

unconscionable. A word I have used for many years...

 

 

Love,

Ana

 

 

 

The butterfly flaps it's wings

Because it is it's nature.

And what is it's nature

But it's essence

From which it cannot hide?

 

Must it ground itself

In fear and shame

And shed a tiny tear

In seeing what has become

Of it's own expression?

 

The breeze turns

Ever so slightly downward

And gently kisses the Earth

In a way that would not have been,

And joins more of it's kind,

Racing skyward in wanton lust

To feel itself

Against the rustling leaves.

 

And does it gasp in horror

in idle witness to what follows,

Or is it just a playful breeze

Seeking the wonder

Of becoming a storm?

 

As gales rage and swirl

And trees are toppled

and heaven darkens with fury

Is there one apart

Who can raise a hand

And declare in anger

Or noble indignation

" Cease! What is, must not be! "

 

There is no such a one

Amidst the swirling orgasm

Of creation and destruction.

And it doesn't matter.

 

Is the clap of thunder

That shakes the bed

And awakens the sleeper

......A mistake?

 

No, rather it is an awakening

That softens the arrogance

Of the hapless sleeper

Who in his slumber

Would stand apart from the storm

And silence it's nature

As though he had one

Of his very own.

 

Let it be what it is,

For we know how to awaken

From our own nightmares.

 

Phil

 

 

 

Beautiful Phil,

 

advaita means one-not one-not two,

 

the storm subsides for we know sunlight,

the silence is for we have heard all words

in both praise and dedication and trials

of tribulations, acknowledgments and

judgments even as arrogance sleeps in

the hearts of those who would hide from

suffering reality,the flesh, ripped and torn

asunder in the downward spiral of human

DNA, the sleeper awakens, to the matter

of what Is IS, Kundalini awakens lovers

of life in an upwards spiral, oh, listen to the

sound and the beauty of a butterfly as she

unfurls her wings in the palms of our hands,

we must let go, to let go, we let go, she flies

and the sky weeps in gratitude as the rain that falls in the tears of

compassionate beings who understand both silence and right action, a

humanity of One-noOne.

 

Ana

 

 

 

Love,

Ana

 

 

 

Thanks. This is fun.

 

The music

 

The two seek one

As music seeks it's own harmony.

 

The musician doesn't fix the notes

He plays them,

And if he's very, very good

He doesn't even play them

He becomes them.

For the sake of the music

 

The flute doesn't play the violin.

It adds it's fluteness

To the violinness

For the sake of the music.

 

Pitch does not stand resolute

But sacrifices it's perfection

To seek harmony until it is found

For the sake of the music.

 

The dancer is neither writer nor player

of the music

Nor is she the instrument which seeks harmony

Or the pitch that seeks resonance.

 

She is the eyes of the music

And if she's very, very good

She doesn't even dance

She becomes the music.

For the sake of the music.

 

The performance

Is a performance of one.

There is neither musician nor dancer.

For both have dissolved

in perfect harmony

Into the music.

For the sake of the music.

 

Phil

 

 

 

I am the dervish who danced into This

Oh, feverish abandon,

I am the romance

of Spirit with Soul,

 

Oh, glorious melody

now dance me.

Oh, unseen hands pluck my strings

and fine tune me,

you are perfect,

 

I play to the hollow echos of wind

and fall under the spell of saltwater,

I resonate harmonic convergencies

in saffron dusk and blue twilights,

 

Oh, our hearts gather the scent of lilacs,

a God-flower,

I waft and disintegrate

into that sweet night when we first

met, when you slipped off my veil of Harmony

 

Our Devotion of One, a crescendo

of Bliss, ever-desiring, ever spiraling, ever

rapturing.

 

We empty into oneAnother and drown all Sounds

into Silence.

 

I thank you Phil

 

I am at dancewithwords

 

dance with me there too, Beloved Phil,

love,

Ana

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Guest guest]

In a message dated 11/19/2005 1:13:19 PM Pacific Standard Time,

Nisargadatta writes:

 

I am the dervish who danced into This

Oh, feverish abandon,

I am the romance

of Spirit with Soul,

 

Oh, glorious melody

now dance me.

Oh, unseen hands pluck my strings

and fine tune me,

you are perfect,

 

I play to the hollow echos of wind

and fall under the spell of saltwater,

I resonate harmonic convergencies

in saffron dusk and blue twilights,

 

Oh, our hearts gather the scent of lilacs,

a God-flower,

I waft and disintegrate

into that sweet night when we first

met, when you slipped off my veil of Harmony

 

Our Devotion of One, a crescendo

of Bliss, ever-desiring, ever spiraling, ever

rapturing.

 

We empty into oneAnother and drown all Sounds

into Silence.

 

I thank you Phil

 

I am at dancewithwords

 

dance with me there too, Beloved Phil,

love,

Ana

 

 

 

Thanks for the invite.

I've actually been a wall flower there for a little while now. I'm the one

pretending to tie my dancing shoes while I watch the dance.

 

Phil