Guest guest Posted October 1, 2007 Report Share Posted October 1, 2007 60,000 hours that's how much time I'v spent " meditating " in the last 40 years 60,000 hours of ego cunningly pretending to be watching itself 60,000 hours almost because once in a while something happens a door falls open and a whiff of something else comes through like tonight: sitting still I recalled a girl I'd seen a few years back at Bestbuy standing greeting customers she had no arms at all (a thalidomide case probably) I passed her quickly by embarrassed-- great soul that I am-- and never thought of her again til tonight and mind said: what a hell of a thing for a 17, 18 year old girl and the poor fucked-up petrified heart of me cracked open and what I can only call motherly grief gushed out and washed though me in a flash and I thought: something real at last. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted October 1, 2007 Report Share Posted October 1, 2007 Nisargadatta , " tom " <jeusisbuen wrote: > > 60,000 hours > that's how much time > I'v spent > " meditating " > in the last 40 years > > 60,000 hours > of ego > cunningly pretending > to be watching itself > > 60,000 hours > almost > because once in a while > something happens > a door falls open > and a whiff of something else > comes through > > like tonight: > sitting still > I recalled a girl I'd seen a few years back > at Bestbuy > standing greeting customers > she had no arms at all > (a thalidomide case probably) > I passed her quickly by > embarrassed-- > great soul that I am-- > and never thought of her again > > til tonight > and mind said: what a hell of a thing > for a 17, 18 year old girl > and the poor fucked-up petrified heart of me > cracked open > and what I can only call > motherly grief > gushed out and washed though me > in a flash > and I thought: > something real at last. > This is so beautiful. Thank you. Real. From The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it. " What is REAL? " asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. " Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle? " " Real isn't how you are made, " said the Skin Horse. " It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real. " " Does it hurt? " asked the Rabbit. " Sometimes, " said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. " When you are Real you don't mind being hurt. " " Does it happen all at once, like being wound up, " he asked, " or bit by bit? " " It doesn't happen all at once, " said the Skin Horse. " You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand. " " I suppose you are real? " said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted October 1, 2007 Report Share Posted October 1, 2007 > > > This is so beautiful. Thank you. > > Real. > > > From The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams > > The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. > He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the > seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled > out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long > succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and > by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they > were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery > magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that > are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all > about it. > > " What is REAL? " asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by > side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. " Does > it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle? " > > " Real isn't how you are made, " said the Skin Horse. " It's a thing that > happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just > to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real. " > > " Does it hurt? " asked the Rabbit. > > " Sometimes, " said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. " When > you are Real you don't mind being hurt. " > > " Does it happen all at once, like being wound up, " he asked, " or bit > by bit? " > > " It doesn't happen all at once, " said the Skin Horse. " You become. It > takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who > break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. > Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved > off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very > shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are > Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand. " > > " I suppose you are real? " said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had > not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the > Skin Horse only smiled. > There are worse fates than that of the Skin Horse. Z Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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