Book Reviews I

Book Title: Spirits, Heroes, & Hunters from North American Indian Mythology
Rating: 3/5

I love to read mythology books. It enriches our understanding of the cultures of other people, because through the mythology, folktales, and religion of a particular people we get to see their inner worlds. Everyone has an inner world, and any race with a genuine tight bond among each other has, effectively, a shared inner landscape.

Understanding other races of the earth helps us understand our own race, because it is only through contact with the Other that we understand ourselves. If everyone was naturally predisposed towards thought instead of action, nobody would "know" he is a thinker instead of a doer. But because a thinker meets a doer, he knows that he is one instead of the other.

Similarly, I come from a background that hails anthropomorphic deities that sit on golden thrones and are sovereign over certain phenomenon like Aphrodite, Zeus,etc or who are totally transcendental, omnipotent and formless like the Christian God.

Whereas the Native Americans have stories about talking animals and people who turn into animals who teach people about ceremonies necessary to make it rain or to have a successful hunt. All of their myths have the theme of natural phenomenon, and a lot of them deal with how or why certain animals act the way they do. They are closer to nature than I am. It's not MY heritage, it's someone else's - and that helps me understand my own. Of course, it's also necessary for you understand and appreciate your own heritage, but that's a rant for another day.

Also, someone's heritage/culture is not better than someone else's, though of course all people will naturally consider their own to be better than someone else's since it resonates more powerfully with them.

Myths also enriches the imagination. Myths will always permeate our minds and the stories that we tell regardless of rather or not we acknowledge their power.

Plus, some of them can be genuinely spiritually moving and reading/hearing them can be an exercise in intuition (just like how math is an exercise in reasoning). To quote Joseph Campbell, "Myths come from the same realm as dreams" and "A myth is a public dream, a dream is a private myth".

This particular book is not a complete collection. It doesn't contain every myth of the North American Indian. Not that I would want it too, since that book would be massive, and compiling it would be impossible. But I still think there is too small of a selection here. It only skims the surface.

The book begins with a simple and interesting introduction that explains that the Native Americans are not one unified civilization, but rather a diverse population of tribes who all had different lifestyles depending on where they lived (and North America is a diverse landscape!) with Eskimos in the north living in a different way than the horse riders of the Great plains, who live quite differently from the tribes living in what we know call Florida (who, because of the landscape, focused on the "gathering" part of "hunting and gathering").

Because of this, as the introduction points out, the myths are very different from one place to another. There is no unified Native American Religion or any codified tales. However, one can still find the underlying themes of the Native American mythology.

It reminds me of how numerous comparative religion and mythology scholars have pointed out the mythologies of the celts, the greeks, the romans, the norse, the slavs, etc are all very similar. Different lifestyles based off climate, landscape, etc but still similar ethnicities.

I found this introduction the best part of the book and a perfect way to start this collection of myths. Each myth that was re-told began with a blurb of where the myth was found and short information about that tribe, which goes to show the incredible diversity of people who existed on the pre-colonial North American continent.

The stories themselves are told rather matter-of-factly, which is both good and bad. It's good because that way I am more certain that the myths are not being tampered with to add more "pizzazz" (as Hollywood often does to greek myths, or as publishers of mythology books for children often do, sadly). It's bad because often the myths can be made boring by that form of storytelling, and a myth should be anything but boring. I think a good collection-of-myths book should tell myths in such a way that they contain a balance of "this is actually how the traditional story goes, including the confusing parts that don't make sense to our modern minds" and "let me tell you this in a way that will appeal to you and entertain you".

I understand that the people who colloborated to write care about the integrity of the stories quite a lot, but this book is marketed to children 10-12, and I fear that someone that age may lose interest fast.

My favourite stories were "Sedna, the witch under the sea", "the girl who married a bear", "scar face and the sun dance" "Hasjelti's dance" and "The Hummingbird Brothers".

Each story also contains pencil drawings, and there are 18 paintings littered throughout the volume. In my opinion, if a book, especially a book like this, has illustrations in it it should enhance the story. It should make me even more absorbed, help me feel the atmosphere more, make my imagination come even more alive. The pencil drawings all do that. They are done in an authentic North American Indian way.

The paintings are a mixed bag. Some of them are great and add to the story, but some of them are, quite frankly, unappealing. The bad ones are either too dull or the people have weird faces. In fact, the illustrator is bad at painting faces.

Overall, this is a great book for someone starting to get an interest in mythology (and all people should, especially the youngun's!). For someone a little more experienced in mythology-reading it is not recommended.

I have three other books from the "World Mythology" series that I look forward to reading and reviewing.

Book Title: Folklore of Nova Scotia
Rating: 3.5/5

I am deeply moved by how enriched the human soul is by a sense of community, a shared spirituality, a deep connection to the landscape, and stories upheld by tradition. I think that this particular book, with a little imagination, can transport us back into the time when these kinds of things were common. 

It's obvious that the author put a lot of passion into this book. 

There are stories about the Second Sight (the ability to see into the spirit world), shape-shifting Witches (including one witch who shapeshifted into a rabbit, and then in that form would damage the cattle of a farm. The father who owned the farm shot the rabbit in the foot. The next day there was a woman who had her foot mysteriously injured and wouldn't tell anyone what had happened), mermaids, and fairies. That last category were my favourite. 

It's a testament to the power of the ancestral folklore of the scots that they kept it so much alive when they came to Cape Breton, and updated it with new tales based in Cape Breton but with similar themes. 

But not even the stories of the scots and their traditional ways could withstand the onslaught of modern materialism and consumerism, which is why books like this are so necessary. They give a chance for the stories to be preserved. Even though they are written for strictly academic purposes, if you approach it in the right way it can bring you into contact with your ancestors, which is what it did for me personally. 

As much as I love this book it has two big flaws: It is often repetitive (particularly the "Forewarning" chapter, a collection of stories from cape breton about people being warned about their deaths by spirits or omens), and some of the stories are only a few sentences long. I ask, what is the point of including a little piece of folklore if it only vaguely relates to any of the topics (fairies, witches, etc) and is so short? Did the author take it as her personal mission to include every little scrape of folklore she could find, editing be dammed? 

The book was at it's best when the folk stories that were told were given a little bit of spice by the author. Come on, these are stories meant to be told around a campfire or at a ceilidh. They need some flavour, some personality. They are not meant to be told in such a dry, academic tone. It's even worse that Mary is obviously a good writer because whenever she adds a personal voice to the stories they are riveting. 

Overall, I'd recommend this book to anyone who is interested in it's titular topic, but if you've already read a more in depth book (this is my first introduction into studying folklore) then don't bother. I also can't imagine someone from outside of Nova Scotia reading this book, since the author is taking for granted that you know the locations of all the areas mentioned. It's also much more interesting to hear folklore from places you've actually been. Lots of the stories come from baddeck, for example. 

I'll close with the closing paragraph which resonates powerfully with me: "But time has been hard on the customs. The automobile, the telephone, the radio, leave people no time to spend on elaborate ceremonial. The old-time ceilidh too, has gone the way of the other customs, and with it the old tales that enlivened many a long winter's evening. No longer do seers startle their friends by the recital of their visions. The honk of the automobile has frightened away the bochdan (hobgoblin), and the glare of its lights has dulled the vision of the sights of the other world. Music floods the air, but is heard only with mechanical aid. Yet there are still, in the little province by the sea, a few secluded spots unspoiled by modern inventions, where the other worldliness of the Celt may disport itself in visions and in dreams"

Book Title: Irminsul
Rating: 2/5 

I literally can't get enough of Varg Vikernes.  I check his blog literally every day and listen to his music all the time. In fact, if you are reading this blogpost I may as well let you know I have been listening to his latest album the whole time while writing it. I was doing some scurrying on the internet and discovered that Varg Vikernes had released a book a long, long time ago called Irminsul. It was only 16 pages long, but I desired to read it. I was seconds away from ordering it online for 5 dollars (plus shipping, taxes, handling) before discovering that it is available for free online, with the author's permission, here: http://www.burzum.org/eng/library/irm... 

Evidently, if his blog posts are anything to go by, Varg does not believe in the same things he does now as he did at the writing of this booklet. It's interesting to see how his thought developed. He is certainly in a much better position now. This booklet is 25% wacky conspiracy theory, 25% an exposition on metaphysics, and 50% a statement of Varg's values which, at the present time, are no longer completely believed in by him. It's all based around the meaning of the Irminsul pillar which was worshipped by pre-Christian European tribes. The meaning of the Irminsul pillar is mysterious, and Varg has some rather... interesting views on what it meant. 

Using sources from the Icelandic Sagas that described what the Irminsul pillar and others like it looked like, he then goes on to describe how the Irminsul pillar is supposed to symbolize balance in the universe, and the preservation of that balance for the sake of natural harmony and growth. Sounds good, right? But when he starts to go into Ancient Alien Aryan theories and space exploration, well, it's a little kooky. What saves it from being trash is the fact that the views being expressed are ultimately meant to lead to a positive end, even if the means to that end are absurd. 

I often get the feeling that Varg sees religions/ideologies as tools. He doesn't care if such-and-such is real, he only cares about the consequence of having a strong belief in such-and-such. If believing in such-and-such a mythos makes you cherish the racial purity of your folk, cultivate positive traits like strength and intelligence, puts you in tune with the earth, then that mythos is good regardless of rather or not it is actually true. In the case of this particular book, though, Varg is going well beyond what is considered acceptable in regards to how we interpret the religion and practices of the pre-christian Europeans and is going to insanity territory. Ancient Alien Aryans? Really? 

He talks about "Indo-European values" and the need for native Europeans to return to them, versus "Judeo-Christian" values. I agree with that, but things like progressing through technology are absolutely NOT Indo-European values. They aren't Jude-Christian values, either. Varg would, thankfully, later go on to discover what "Indo-European values" means and lives very closely to them at the present time. 

It's good that Varg later turned away from fringe ideas like the ones expressed in this book and now has much more sane beliefs. Consequently, they are all much more interesting to read about. 

I'd only recommend the 5 minutes it would take you to read this short little booklet to those who are big fans of Varg's work or to those who, like me, are endlessly curious about his personality. If you are looking for an INFINITELY BETTER book by Varg about pre-christian europeans, read "Sorcery and Religion in Ancient Scandinavia" which is much longer, much better, much more interesting, much more plausible, and is jam-packed with information and interpretations you will not find anywhere else. 

Also, check out varg's amazing blog: http://thuleanperspective.com

Love of Duality [Poem]

Love is a dancing star in my chest, 

Singing: “Out of many, you are the best!” 

Love is a light peeking through the Abyss, 

revealing that in this world there can be bliss.

Oh, how your beauty awakens my dormant soul, 

enticing it’s timeless longing to be part of a whole! 

Oh, how your treachery is likened unto a sting,

exposing my little love-world for what it is: nothing. 

Yeah, I’ve seen how the heaven of affection,

leads always into the damnation of depression. 

Yeah, I’ve seen how all of those treasured moments, 

turn into haunting memories for which I seek atonement. 

What is love? The false promise of bliss.
What greater deception is there than this? 

Gnosis [Poem]

You won't find Him in Language's narrow halls, 
and He hides from Reason's analytical gaze.

Instead, trust in Intuition to take you by the hand
and let her guide you out of Unknowing's chasm,

So He can at last welcome you into His subtle domain, 
and you can walk the inner road that makes dreams real. 

When you at last contact His numinous joy, 
let it liberate you from the prison named yourself.

Lament of the Amateur Poet [Poem]

I wish that fleeting moment was captured by a poet of greater skill,
because I am unequipped to convey these inscrutable emotions.

I wish this despair was someone else's burden,
so it could be purged into a better poem than I can write.

I wish this joy was someone else's blessing,
so it could be recorded into a better poem than I could write.

A poet with a lucid memory and a mastery of word choice -
Oh! And lots of free time. Just an altogether better poet than I.

Three Beautiful Things [Poem]

My sight drowns into the colours,
of an exquisite painting.
My enjoyment increases,
with each passing second,
as I notice more of the artist’s
generous little touches.

I feel privileged to witness
her humble, genuine smile
The whirring of my mind halts
to appreciate it’s arising.

The sun lays a blanket
of golden light onto
pure green fields.
The horizon spreads out,
into wide open infinity.
Rapture in the eyes!

Sigh! So beautiful.

Words Remembered [Poem]

You are pathetic. 

Who said it? I don’t remember.
Was it even said, or just implied?
Was the accuser another or myself?
Did it happen in reality or my imagination?

Either way, the words impacted.

You’re great! 

A friend said it in a time of distress.
The words had the tune of sincerity.
They were as medicine to me then.
It is a memory for which I am grateful.

Best of all, the words uplifted.

Questions [Poem]

What will ten years from now be like?
Who will decide: Me or Fate? Luck?

How do I know that I know what I know?
How can I be sure if this isn't all a dream?

Why am I anything at all?
Why can't I just be nothing?

Why are all my favorite questions,
the ones I don't know the answer to?

Quote Showcase #2 [Article]

A quote should be a pithy saying which expresses a lot of truth and wisdom. A quote, after you read it, should make you want to share it with everyone you know. Reading a good quote for the first time creates an impact that makes you think about it very deeply.

A good quote should become like a mantra that you can say to yourself in your head to give you power in times of weakness and wisdom in times of confusion. Every time you repeat them they dig deeper and deeper into my subconscious and the words make an increasingly stronger psychic impression.

Remember when reading a quote to reflect on it so it can sink in fully. Repeat it, say it to yourself a few different ways, think about each word, hold it in your mind, analyze it, feel it. Bring up examples from your life that would apply to the quote so the words can become more meaningful to you. A quote is not worth reading if you don't fully digest it. Otherwise it doesn't become a part of your being.

The first time we looked at quotes, we examined the wise words of the men of the east, from Buddhists to Hindus. Now let's look at what the wise men of our own western traditions have to say:

"One can be instructed in society, one is inspired only in solitude"

- Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe 

It seems that we are a society that's always trying to escape any kind of aloneness, with our densely populated cities and technology that keeps us together 24/7. We fear being alone. I don't understand this at all: I love being alone!

The reason why is because I know there is a difference between isolation and solitude. Isolation is longing to have a shared experience with someone but being unable to.When you want to escape isolation but can't you feel alienated from other people and estranged from the world. It's a terrible feeling, and I'm lucky because I know that if I ever wanted to not be alone, I easily could.

But solitude is much different. We get to declutter our minds of work and worries and we get to unplug from the world, so that we can lay down and relax into a more peaceful and wide-open mind. This gives solitude an element of purity, like an untampered forest. For some people it can be life-changing to experience their own minds in this way because they are so used to having a speedy, tight, and stressful mind. Sadly, in an increasingly populated and busy world, some people may never get to experience solitude. Thus, solitude is precious.

Goethe's quote has always rung true for me. Dome of the best things in my life have there origin in my solitude: My best writing ideas (like everything on this blog!), renewed determination to live life to the fullest, inspiration to change my life for the better, moments of meditation, moments of contemplation, and moments of subtle joy.

But there is a hidden lesson in Goethe's quote: As he says, you  need to be instructed in society - you obviously need to learn from the world to live in the world. But you are inspired by solitude - you need to be alone with your own spirit to learn from it. Instruction is the world imposing it's ideas on you, and Inspiration is you imposing ideas onto the world. Obviously if we wish to live less robot-like lives, we need to give some time to be alone with ourselves.

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man" - Heraclitus

When I returned to Gampo Abbey about a week or so ago to celebrate the Tibetan New Year, I was looking forward to seeing all the places that were familiar to me from the summer. Gampo Abbey and the surrounding area looked strikingly different in the winter time. I stood on the "same" cliffs that faced towards the "same" Atlantic Ocean, walked through the "same" trails, entered the "same" buildings, only to find that it was like experiencing them all for the very first time.

Then I realized that the reason why I felt that way was because it really was the first time. There really is no continuity at all between this moment and the next. If you walk into your room you won't be paying much attention to it because you'll think it's the same ol' room, but if you really observed it, you would realize it's not. Our mind has imposed the illusion of "sameness" onto something unique, making solid a world that is always fluid.

Because of this, every moment is worth giving your full attention to because it is the first and only time you will ever be in that particular moment. Every time you do something is always the first time you do it.

Most importantly, it isn't just the outer landscape that is always in motion, but our inner landscapes as well. In my life I have been many different people, and I have no doubt that I shall become many more. Sometimes the difference between one person and another that I have been in my life is so large it feels surreal. It's as though the memories I have in my head from when I was six years old or ten years old are the memories of another person that have been transplanted into my head.

The reason why is because there is no "sameness" in our selves, ever, in this moment or another, on any physical or mental level. When we mistake emotions, thoughts, and sensations as a "solid" self we became a slave to that solidity, instead of just being able to let them go.

All of this made me think of the above quote from Heraclitus. The river from that quote is the perfect metaphor for the ineffable flux that is life.

"Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.” 

- Joseph Campbell

Your bliss is something that makes you come alive like nothing else does. Its something that you have a special affinity for. Its something that makes you feel satisfied and fulfilled just for having done it. 

Joseph Campbell is the first person who ever uttered the phrase, "Follow your bliss". Since he spoke those words they have resonated powerfully with the spiritual and secular public. Why does it strike such a chord with us? Because people are bliss-seekers. We spend every day of our entire lives wanting to avoid suffering, pain, and anguish and desiring to feel pleasure, happiness, and joy.

Why is following your bliss seen as a rare and audacious thing to do? Because of the "Walls" Joseph mentions in his quote. There's the wall of doubt, the wall of fear, the wall of apathy, the wall of obstacles, the wall of limitations, the wall of weaknesses, and the wall of mistakes. There are all sorts of walls and we are all familiar with them. 

I know that Joseph Campbell's legendary phrase is true from personal experience. I love to meditate and when I first visited Gampo Abbey I felt a soul-calling to go there. I intuitively felt that taking a month-long retreat would boost my spiritual and personal journey. But at the time I was a 16 year old with no job and no money. How could I get the 1,500$ to go there for a month-long retreat? The wall of doubt and the wall of financial limitation seemed to shut off any possibility of going to Gampo Abbey. 

But by selling video games I knew I would never play again, by working very hard to win contests and get prize money from them, and through the generous donations of friends and family - and one particular 400$ donation from a generous man I've never met in my life that came at the last minute and saved the day, I was able to go! 

Another example would be my involvement in theater. Through the process of self-reflection I discovered when I was about 15 that I would probably love acting. I knew there was something of a theater scene here in Sydney, but I was greatly discouraged by the fact that I had zero acting experience whatsoever. My self-defeating attitude lead me to believe that you had to have been lucky enough to be involved in theater since you were very young if you wanted to be involved at all (an idea that is ridiculous to me now!). Moreover, even if I did have the confidence to be able to pursue, I didn't know anything about how to get involved. Lack of confidence and lack of opportunities were the walls preventing me from following my bliss.

But when I found out there was a Drama 10 class at Sydney Academy, I had to get involved. I rocked it! That class gave me my highest mark that year and it encouraged me to get involved in the theater scene. I got involved in the after school drama club, co-wrote a play that I starred in, and for the entire week of performance I felt like I was walking on air. It was fulfilling down to my very soul.

Nowadays I am involved in theater all of the time. I just happened to know the right people at this time who gave me the right information, so I was able to pursue my love for the theater! Were before there were only walls, now there were doors! 

My life-lesson from this was that when we really decide that we are going to seek after bliss with all of our might, we have the strength to tear down those walls. "Doors" begin to appear in the form of auspicious circumstances that mysteriously come together to assist you such as meeting the right people at the right time at the right place. Sometimes The Universe gives you subtle signs, little hints, that encourage you and guide you on your journey. Best of all, when we follow our bliss we inspire others to do the same - so following our own bliss makes the whole world a blissful place.

All of this increases your inspiration, motivation and strength so that you follow the path to your bliss all the more, and you feel more and more blissful as you do. It's as if when you decide to follow your bliss you are put on an upward track that only gets progressively better and better! 

If there is a voice in your head telling you that this quote is too good to be true - that voice is a wall, specifically the wall of doubt. I promise that it's true! Go out there and do what has always made you come alive!! 

-----

 Click to read Quotes Showcase #1

Click to read Quotes Showcase #3

Funny Words [Poem]

Once upon a time in Ishkawbibble..
The hooligans were up to their usual shenanigans.
Gabriel started an argy-bargy with an emu in a shrub,
so he had to take some bolus in his face and coccyx.

Back in all the brouhaha, he lost his aglet and doily!
Did he leave it in the flimsy bungalow?
Or at the eatery with that floozy hussy,
the one wearing a crummy chesterfield?
the one with a flouncy hat and a flappy skirt?
Man, she was nasty! Indubitably.

Maybe that pompous and puissant fellow stole them!
Through serendipity I met him, his name was Flanagan.
He bombarded my buttock with pain! Ouch. What a flop!

Thanks to everyone who commented on this status: https://www.facebook.com/dylan.grant.33/posts/632124403491143?comment_id=6208726&offset=0&total_comments=32&notif_t=feed_comment

I want More [Poem]

I want to do more than just exist.

I want to surpass my self,
I want my life and my dreams to be one,
I want to be great at what makes me feel great,
I am a seed planted in the ground of everyday life,
and I want to grow into the tree I know I can be.

I want to be free to travel far away,
I want my senses to be awoken by novelty,
I want my mind to be absorbed by wonder,
I want my memories to be filled with rich experiences.
I am a man filled with wanderlust,
and am stuck in a cage.

I want to feel close to Nature,
I want Her to set me free from my outer and inner chains,
I want to be familiar with all that is beautiful and sublime.
I am a being with an appetite for bliss,
and that appetite demands to be satiated.

I want to feel close to the Universe,
I want His starry heavens above to inspire me,
and to remind me of those starry heavens I have within.
I am a child of the stars with a body made of earth,
and I want to feel close to home.

I want my courage to be tested,
I want my life to be an adventure - not a cruise
I want to face the unknown and come out unscathed.
I am a hero waiting for his legend to begin,
and I am getting a little impatient.

I want to do more than just exist,
I want to feel really and truly alive.

Observations in a Room [Short Story]

I looked around the room with perfect content. Many have said that I live a pretty strenuous life, but compared to everyone else in this classroom my life is actually quite easy.

I mean, just look at poor old Floor. He gets stampeded on by herds of students every day. Just to think of all the mud from the kids's boots... ick! I wish the students wouldn't drag me across Floor. I don't want to contribute anymore to his pain. I mean, I'm not that heavy. Just lift me up. 

I've often heard it said, "I wish I was in Fan's place - his life is a breeze". Pardon that, we're having a little too much pun. Ooooh! That was a bad one. I must be a glutton for Pun-ishment. Okay, but seriously, all he does all day is spin around and help people cool off. I guess I'm not a big fan of him (Last time, I promise). 

Wouldn't you get dizzy after a while, spinning your blades around all the time? Besides, he's not even an official part of the building like Floor or Ceiling, he's just someone that the teacher brought in because she thought the room was too hot in the summer time. He's kind of an outsider. I mean, we accept Fan as one of us, but he'll never enjoy the rich solidarity that comes from being a part of this school building from the very beginning like me.

I will confess, too, that I've often envied Ceiling. She looks down on everyone, all high and mighty. That gives her a sense of entitlement so she treats the rest of us like her peasants. Everyone here is disgusted with her egotism, and she knows it too, but she can get away with it. 

But then I reflected, "Well, if I envy Ceiling, that must be because I want to be ceiling, and if I want to be ceiling, doesn't that mean I want to be up on my high horse too? How does that make me any better than her?" I always said to myself that Ceiling's behavior is horrible, and that if I were in Ceiling's place I'd be the best Ceiling ever and wouldn't let power corrupt me. But would I really? Y'know what they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely. 

Then I thought that Ceiling must be really unhappy. I mean, if she is so spiteful to everyone all the time she must have a lot of hate built up inside. 

I thank my lucky stars every day that I'm not in as bad a place as my neighbor, Chair. Don't tell him I said that to his face - or any of the chairs, actually. They have heavy enough burdens to carry on there seats - y'know, with the weight of the kids and everything! And all those bums pressing against you all the time... Need I say more? 

So I'm actually very content with my place in this hierarchy. The only burden I really have to put up with is the weight of binders and books being put on me all the time. I swear, they get heavier every year. Just like the students! 

So I guess I lucked out in life by being a Desk. Surprised? Yeah, I know all you Humans think that your the top rung in the chain of being, but being a Desk comes with all kinds of perks. The best one is having lots of time to think - life's most subtle pleasure. I bet Ceiling, Chair, Fan, and even poor old Floor would enjoy their time a whole lot more if they contemplated as much as I did. 

"Well, I can contemplate stuff to!" you're probably saying to yourself, right? Well, you don't get to think as much as I do, because of the endless distractions you've put in your way. You might come across some deep truth or profound insight every now and again, but it only scratches the surface, it doesn't really "sink in" and become a part of your being. Instead, it just gets shoved aside by another barrage of thoughts - be they the product of your own chaotic mind or prompted by an equally chaotic environment. 

If you had as much time to think about how nothing in life lasts - not even for an instant - you wouldn't be attached to things nearly as often. You'd just go with the flow.

If you had time to think about how everyone (and everything, before you want to exclude me and my friends) wants to feel happiness and avoid suffering, you would never hurt a soul. If you did, you'd feel an unbearable guilt for days. 

Pitiful Human... life is too vast for you to comprehend it all in as brief a lifespan as you have, or in as speedy a life as you choose to live. It would take a lifetime of quiet reflection to understand it all. But maybe that's where your lucky.  There is a kind of thrill in the trial-and-error of lived experience, facing the adventures of life armed only with the little bit of wisdom you have. It is a thrill that I will never know. After all, I might be able to ponder a lot of wisdom, but I will never be able to practice it. 

In fact, if there is anything I truly dislike about being a stationary object, it;s that: not being able to put wisdom into practice. You humans are neither all-action like an animal nor all-thought like an object. You can apprehend wisdom and then practice wisdom. It is a rare and precious thing. 

Then again, practicing wisdom is something I have known only among the most extraordinary of your kind. Most of the people who have used this desk either think one way and act another, never think at all, or never act at all. What a wasted opportunity! 

But I'm completely over my days of thinking, "If I were a Human, I'd be better at it than you!". I understand that, for one reason or another, everyone has there place in life, and I accept mine wholeheartedly. Indeed, what else is there to ever do? We're all given our part to play in life, and whatever part you have you should play it wholeheartedly. That's my philosophy.

Read this right now [Poem]

You are reading this.

Thank you…

For letting me into your mind.

As your eyes follow these words,

I can slip thoughts that are not your own into your head

All for my own mysterious ends.

You have given me incredible power over you right now…  

Don’t believe me? Okay then. Here’s a challenge: Don’t think about roses.

Are you thinking about roses? Ha! See?

Your mind is totally under my control.

Hmmm… What shall I get you to think about today?

A Fantasy… like pirates looking for treasure?

A Nightmare… like a serial killer stalking innocents?

A Warning… like if you don’t question what you read,
people can get you to believe in anything?

I hope you keep that in mind,

because the time has come,

To FREE YOUR MIND…

Quote Showcase #1 [Article]

A quote should be a pithy saying which expresses a lot of truth and wisdom. A quote, after you read it, should make you want to share it with everyone you know. It should stick with you and become a mantra that you say in your head, it should become something that, after you read it, makes you stop and think for a long time. I think that any quotable person is worthy of a tremendous deal of respect.

No wonder I have become a collector and lover of quotes in my life! I have a quote and a saying for just about every situation, and there are more than a few quotes that have become like mantras and prayers that I say to myself during certain times where I need some wisdom to guide me. Every time I repeat them they dig deeper and deeper into my subconscious and the words make an increasingly ever lasting psychic impression.

Quotes have saved me from many a dark day and given me power during times of weakness. To express my gratitude for the quotes in the world, I'm starting a new monthly showcase on my blog that is all about quotes (in no particular order or theme).

INSTRUCTIONS ON READING QUOTES:

Remember when reading a quote to reflect on it so it can sink in fully. Repeat it, say it to yourself a few different ways, think about each word, hold it in your mind, analyze it, feel it. A quote is not worth reading if you don't fully digest it. Otherwise it doesn't become a part of your being.

 Let's see what is lined up for our first installment!

"This moment is always the occasion" - Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

I first came across this quote during my stay at Gampo Abbey. I think it perfectly sums up the entire philosophy of mindfulness!

Everyone is always looking for an "occasion" - either remembering a previous one or imagining/wishing for a future one. Sometimes when we are bored we create "occasions" in our mind, imagined conversations, imaginary situations. The unmindful mind, our little private cinema, creates a thousand and one occasions on a daily basis.

Yes, the mind is always wandering without beginning or end. Why? The mindful mind knows that the present moment is what the unmindful mind is looking for. The busy mind actually wants stillness.

Since I first read this quote it is like a mantra that I say to myself when I am out on walks or out in my daily life. I cannot tell you how many times I have been astonished by how much raw perception and how much beauty is present in literally every single individual moment, and how much more internal happiness we have when our consciousness is more grounded in the impressions of the exterior world instead of always neurotically following whatever erroneous thought is entering our mind.

I remember walking home from school and seeing a tree during the fall, just a simple little tree, and staring at it for a good ten minutes because the sight of it, from  the way the sun was slightly behind the clouds in that moment, the way the tree was positioned in my sight, etc - was so gorgeous. I remember thinking "Wow!" when I saw the wind blowing leaves across the street when I once was walking my dog. It was as if the leaves were engaged in an elegant little dance that no one had noticed but me. I remember finding the tune of the wind hitting the leaves in the trees to be so melodious. I remember the way that the clouds sometimes move along the sky becoming one of my all-time favorite visual perceptions because it so zen.

Never fed, ever satisfied. Ever fed, never satisfied - Paramahansa Yogananda 

Paramahansa Yogananda's deceptively simple quote perfectly sums up the delusive nature of desire. Desire is like an itch: You think that by scratching it the itch goes away, but really, scratching it just makes it itch more and more and more and more. It is true of food, it is true of money, it is true of sex, it is true of drugs, etc.

Think of all the millionaires in the world who can instantly get any possession or food that they want. What do they want? Even more food, money, sex, etc. It never ends!

Think, too, of a person who was perfectly fine a minute ago but is currently a raging volcano of desire because he saw an Ad on TV or his friend talking about something. Just like that. Like a leaf being tossed around in the wind, he is being dragged by external impressions without any thought of his own. Who knows what paths those external impressions might take him?

But a person who abstains, a person who is self-controlled,  does not have that problem. He is perfectly content in the current moment. He walks into a store filled with things he doesn't need, and doesn't buy anything. Someone mentions ice-cream after he just had supper and instead of going after the ice cream he says he is full. The self-controlled man knows the peace and contentment of the present moment and doesn't want it disturbed by whatever random desires come popping in!

What a radical quote to think of in our 21st century consumerist society!

"If you love life, don't waste time, because time is what life is made of" - Bruce Lee

Wow. Whenever I read this quote, the tiger within me gets awoken a little. It makes me want to do the things I love and pursue my dreams. This is a quote that gets me off the couch and gets me doing something. 

This is such a rich quote that it is worth interpreting piece by piece: "If you love life...". Everyone should love life. Life is so precious. Think back to a time when you smiled or when you were really happy. There are so many countless causes and conditions that were required for that one thing to happen. It is such an incredible opportunity that you could ever feel that great at all.

"don't waste time...." Heck, just today I have spent almost all of it zoning out and lazing around. But then I started working on this, and my happiness levels boosted because I am exerting myself and doing something that I really love (writing). Happiness isn't having nothing to do and obeying every command that the Id sends at you, happiness is having a goal and completing that goal, and the best kind of happiness is exceeding your expectations. This isn't something that just happens, it is something that we have to consciously do. If it were any other way it wouldn't be worth it. Life is so much better when we have the energy of awakenment flowing through us.

"Because time is what life is made of". We delude ourselves into thinking that things are the same from moment to moment. Really, they aren't: Every micro-second of existence is brand new. This is true at the microscopic levels of the Atom and the Molecule where things are always changing and moving but also true from the perspective of what our own eyes can see: Everything is always running out, there is always something different about this moment versus every moment that came before or after.

That is Time. Everything around you - people, objects, situations - is running on the sand of a mercilessly finite hourglass. Time is impersonal: It doesn't care if you wanted to repeat this or that experience, or for that person to be that away again, or for this object not to break. Now lets apply this to you. Think back to how short of a time it was to get to the age of 15 to the age you are now. Blink of an eye, isn't it?

If you don't consciously take the bull by the horns, god knows where you could end up, and then the rare and precious life that you had was thrown away. The image of being given a rare diamond and then throwing it away into the garbage is what comes to mind. Better fulfill your dreams while you still have a will that is strong, a body that is healthy and a mind that is sane. Better love the people around you while they have those things going for them too.

I think that's a nice note to end on! I hope that these quotes leave a lasting impression, as any good quote should! Remember to follow the instructions I said at the beginning so you can really digest the words of wisdom that have been offered to you today.


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Click to read Quotes Showcase #2

Click to read Quotes Showcase #3

Retreating [Short Story]

Flopping onto my bed, I curled up into a little ball, giving up for today.

I swear, my stress and anxiety had gotten to the point that it was now a tangible substance. It felt gross and heavy. It was a sticky black goo that was clogging up the wheels of the machinery in my life, making everything function either sub-par or not at all.

I considered getting a shower to cleanse myself, but I had already showered two days ago and need to save water. So I had to bear it.

I rolled around in my bedsheets, trying to wipe off this invisible stress-substance, but it wouldn’t come off. I closed my eyes. It was late. Mom and Dad were already in bed and asleep. They don’t know what happened. They’ve suspected that’s somethings been wrong for days, but they’re too busy to really take notice or offer advice. Besides, what help could they offer anyway? They wouldn’t understand. They think I’m with my best friend Jim or my girlfriend Alexandria. Yeah, as if that’d ever happen again.

So much can change in one day. Not even one day, just a couple of hours. One hour you’re at the house of your only friend, and the next minute your girlfriend comes over. You get a sour feeling in your stomach because you know something bad is about to happen, even though you don’t know why. But like a prophecy of doom you ignore it’s forewarnings to make yourself feel better. Sure enough within the next hour your friend and your girlfriend are now dating. What better way to announce it than for her to kiss him right in front of you?

I’ll never forget that feeling. Being betrayed and dumped all at once by my two favourite people who ever lived. Guess the feeling wasn’t mutual.

It was all so surreal and so lightning-fast, it was like a nightmare. The gross, heavy substance became thicker and more plentiful the more I reflected on this situation. Like I was drowning in black goo.

All the people sleeping in this house are so lucky. When people sleep they can effortlessly make the whole world dissolve, retreating into nothingness. I wish I could do that right now.

Ah, nothingness! Sometimes I wished I could go into nothingness forever. That would mean not feeling any of this black goo. That would mean no unenriched past, or burdensome present, or doubtful future. It would mean no aching body, speedy mind or tormented heart. It would mean never having possessed any consciousness of anything that ever was at all or ever having to. Zilch. Zero.

The ultimate escape. It would be like sleeping and never coming back. What could be better? I don’t see any problems with wanting to do that. I mean, I never asked to be born.

I turned over in my bed and started to tear up. Plus, I’m going to die anyway. I may as well hasten the process… but I know I’m too weak to do that. It was an action that will forever remain a thought. So there was really no escape. The consequences of my actions will always be real, the trials I face will remain real… I’ll wake up tomorrow and I’ll still be alone and friendless.

I remained motionless in bed, slowly crying. Depressed enough to wish I could just fall asleep but too restless to do it. Almost every night for weeks since the incident has ended like this. I spent my days not talking to anyone or doing anything, like a turtle that had retreated into his shell so that he couldn’t get hurt or affected in any particular way, but as a consequence couldn’t really live. It was a fair-trade off, though, I thought.

I found that I lived my life like it was a dream. Not the kind where you become lucid, or the kind of dream that gives you a huge revelation about yourself. Not that exciting kind of dream. I lived my life like the dreams that you forgot because they were unimportant and confusing. It had all the same trappings: It was something I merely reacted to as opposed to acted upon, it was something that I stumbled through in a daze while witnessing scenes passing by ranging from joy, to boredom, to agony…

But the worst part about this dream-like life was that at the end of the day, it wasn’t a dream. That’s what I hoped it was. When I got home and was going to bed the night of the incident, I still couldn’t really believe it.. So I went to bed thinking that when I woke up the next morning everything will be back to normal: I’d still be joking around with Jim, then I’ll get a call from the adorable Alexandria and our hearts will be beaming together on the phone… but no. Why?

Because life was actually real. That’s what made me want to retreat into nothingness. Life was so overwhelmingly real and I just couldn’t handle it. My past could never be restored or improved, no matter how hard I try to remember it. The future could never be predicted, no matter how hard I try to imagine it. No, the future could only be made, and I didn’t have the strength to make it any particular way.

That’s not true, I thought, darkly. I’ve proved to myself that I have the ability to make it average or even downright crappy. Well, that’s not totally true… I’ve been happier before. Memories of happier days emerged from the swirling chaos of my mind.

I can do better. Had some part of me yet to give up?

I felt this part of me temporarily overcome my sense of “I”, so that I became the person in me who hasn’t given up as opposed to the person in me who has. I looked at my life with a different set of eyes than before, and thought: “This is absurd. Here you are, lying in bed, hoping the world will go away when you acknowledge the impossibility of that. Come on! You’re alive, so you may as well live, and what is life without struggle, without acts of will, without ambition and fulfillment and loss?”. My crying halted.

I felt like an inner fire was burning inside me, and it made me feel more awake. I could feel it coursing through my veins. It was like my life force. It wanted to lift me up. I could feel this new inner fire and the black goo competing with each other.

“But what if there really is no point?” my more pessimistic side retorted. My optimistic side thought it over and responded,“It’s your choice”. It was right! It really was all up to me.

I could feel myself become decisively disgusted with the attitude I’ve had these last few weeks. I opened my eyes, with intensity. The fiery substance became stronger. I consciously whispered to myself: “I can do it. Yes! I can actually do it!!”.

My inner fire started to burn through all that black goo, replacing feelings of apathy and despair with enthusiasm and exertion.

I actually leapt out of my bed and stood in my bedroom, spine upright. Like a king. I swear, this distinctly physical gesture threw off the remaining bits of stress that were left in me, and I could feel my inner fire burning brightly.

Screw Jim and Alexandria!!! I can make new friends! Did I really just say that to myself? That was pretty bold. I felt like running to the top of a hill and yelling that out to the world as loud as I could. Even if I couldn’t actually do that since, y’know, it’s kinda dark out and I don’t know of any hills nearby. But I was doing it in my head and it got my point across to myself.

What should I do? I’ll try and put a smile on someone else’s face for once. Everyone wants to smile. Yeah, that’s right. Everyone wants happiness and nobody wants suffering, so I can make new friends by trying to make people happy. Oooooh, I was really on fire now!

Tomorrow was a new day. It doesn’t matter that it’s the middle of the week and the middle of the month. I don’t need to wait until something like New Years or some other big occasion to change my life. I can do it right now, just because I want to.

With all that, I at last began to feel sleepy. But I had a different attitude towards sleep now. I didn’t approach sleep with wanting to disappear, but with wanting to rejuvenate myself. For the first time in a while, I was so excited and happy.

 

 

The Inner Fires [Short Story]

I remember walking in an unknown land. I encountered the stunning sight of the glimmering summer ocean. My whole being stopped to take it all in. Beauty is too weak a word, we use it for too many things. All I can tell you is that when primordial poets first observed the earth, this is what they meant when they said Beauty. The more I stared at it the more details I noticed:
How the clouds gently strolled across the sky. How the sun generously bathed everything in golden light.

But the thing that strikes the most, perhaps, was the scope. I could feel my own mind being stretched out to infinity as I tried to take it in. It didn't make me feel insignificant, it made me feel ecstatic, because I knew I was a part of that infinity. I don't know how long I stood there, staring. It would have felt blasphemous to think in terms of time at this place, this altar of Beauty not made by the hands of Man.

After I was done honoring the view , I walked a little bit farther. I noticed there was another forest to the right of me. I walked right in like it was the house of an old friend who had told you that you could stop by anytime.

"Sssssshhhhhhh..... SsssshhhSSSshshhhhhh"... My ears caught the inviting tune of a stream nearby. I felt blessed; Life has provided a feast for me today! I followed the sound. I admired the water for a little while and then I placed my right foot on a rock in the stream, and when I felt that my footing was firm enough, I placed my left foot on it as well. I looked ahead. There was a rock within a step's distance of me for as far as I could see, like a little trail. My curious mind exclaimed: Maybe I could follow it to the source of the stream?

I walked on each rock, sometimes slipping a little bit into the water. I got to a certain point and there were no more rocks to step on, and the stream got too deep for it to be worth following to the end.

The last rock was big enough to sit on, and so I did, cross-legged like a meditating Buddha. I stared at the stream, my eyes darting along trying to follow the constant arising and dissolving of the water. As hard as my eyes and mind tried to discern where the waves began or ended, they just couldn't. The water was totally and utterly formless and wouldn't yield to my mind’s attempts to draw lines that would conceptualize it and make it easier to fathom.

Because of that, something in me snapped. My conceptual mind gave up trying to rationalize the world and saw the pure, raw elemental life constantly before it. Everything came alive and every second of me seeing this stream became the first time I had seen it over and over again.Pure novelty. It was the only true to way to see it; to see it in any other way would be a lie. There was nothing the same in the stream from moment to moment. It was an illusion that my mind had superimposed on it, making me see the concept of water instead of the water itself, making something solid out of something so fundamentally fluid.

I gazed at the stream,  enraptured at the sight of this simple awe.

But, tragically, that sense of separateness and sense of "I've seen this before"-ness came over me again, like a veil.

That whole sequence of events is immortal to me.

"Danny!" my mother cried from inside the house, interrupting my train of thought and snapping me out of my daze. I tried to bring the thoughts I was having about my summer vacation to some kind of conclusion, but then she cried again and the urgency in that second cry got me going inside the house from our yard, which I realized I had been laying in for the last twenty minutes at least.

I walked in and saw that she was serving breakfast. Dad was already at the table, eating. Bacon and eggs. "What were you doing out there, anyway? You were up pretty early.". "I was just thinking" I responded, trying to brush her question off so she wouldn't pin me down. She understood that and didn't press me any further. Sometimes her 18-year old son doesn’t want to make light of the shadows of his thoughts.

"Son, hurry up and finish, you’re going to be late for school". My Dad said in an authoritative tone. I ate as fast I could. The food was okay. I was too busy being in my head for me to enjoy the sensations of the food passing through my mouth. All three of us ate speedily. Mom and Dad had to go to work at roughly the same time that I had to go to school, and at this rate it looked like I would be late because they had to get to work first.

We all hopped in the car, driving. We had some standard chit-chat to fill the car with noise. Usual stuff, "What do you have for school today?" "What are you doing after school today?" "Me and your mother will be home at...". Blah blah blah. It was different from the vacation that we recently returned from and which I was remembering in the yard, where we were all lively and laughing with each other.

We drove by the dull grey sidewalks, grey streets and grey buildings that have covered the whole world. Everything was so gray. All the concrete - that is, mostly everything - was gray. The sky was gray today. Our car was gray. Even the school I was being sent to was gray.

Gray is by far the most boring and least aesthetic color. There is nothing in it that captivates the senses, or that expresses any feelings in our souls, like how red invokes passion, gold invokes glory, or green invokes nature… the only thing I can imagine gray invoking is boredom.

I wondered what people would ask me when I got to school, and how I would respond to them. "Where were you?" "On vacation" I'd say, and then they'd mechanically go on what a good time I’d had. While they were doing that I'd be desperately trying to reconstruct those scenes of beauty and wonder. Remembering them is the only way to save me from this modern banality that absorbs me whenever I get back home and which seeps into every crevice of my soul.
It's like while out and exploring the natural world I was awake, but back here the world lulled me into a sleep, so that I sleepwalked through life.

Why do people want to live like this? More importantly, why do I even want to live like this? I think the speed and banality of our lifestyle takes on a mind of its own and we mistake that for what's really real. I think one day I'll abandon all of my possessions, or sell them, and just walk as far I can go.

I'll sleep on the streets, hitchhike, find all of Nature's secret spots, see the world... anything for an adventure. "Oh yeah” I can imagine my Mom or Dad saying, "And then what?" and they’'ll bring up a list of things to worry about like food, shelter, and security. I’d say back, “An adventure is not a pleasure cruise, an adventure has its ups and downs. An adventure has uncertainty. If that's not what you want, don't go on an adventure. You don't have to spit on my inspiration just because the fiery blood of your own youthful enthusiasm was put out ages ago!!”.

Well you know what? My own inner fires are blazing too hard to be put out. Sometimes they are like a raging inferno that will consume everything in sight! Or maybe my own fiery blood will become too much to contain and will kill me from the inside if I don't appease it by offering it what it wants: more achievements, more bliss, more adventures, more beauty, more, more more!!

I finally arrived at school and walked inside like a zombie. While I was entering I saw a pebble. It reminded me of the stream. Just being able to imagine that “Sssshhhhh...Sssshhssshhhh…” soothed me. I looked out a window. The sun looks glorious today. I love the way it shines on the people passing by. Sometimes when they smile their faces are as bright and as warm as the sun itself. In fact, as much as I loved my summer vacation, I am awfully happy to see so many of these people again. Any radical thoughts about abandoning my possessions and adventuring get put aside as I join my friends and we make plans for the rest of the day.