Let us not stop asking ourselves why we are here, Let us not pretend to be content without conquering our fears, Let us not give up our chances, Let us not foolishly act helpless blaming circumstances.
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From the magical net of the knowledges-holders the guru vidyadharas, here are two profound verses, declarations of ultimate confidence, the self-confirmation of our timeless divine nature.
Okay let me pretend, let me begin, Let me again separate without and within, In an attempt to speak the truth let me become a liar,
Lets once again try to define the flavor of forever.
At first she was horrified, doing her best to keep them out by stuffing an old blanket into the crevice beneath the door so that they couldn’t get into her bedroom. But they easily chewed and clawed their way through whatever barrier she put there, until finally she gave up fighting them.
When I paint it is easy in the beginning, then there is often a period of struggle. Suddenly a flow comes and its so easy, sometimes even like someone else is painting. To me there is parallels with painting and meditation, says the Swedish painter Monica Riton.
The black crow lay broken. The body open. The insides of a once warm breast, spilled now, upon tarred street, and exposed to city dust.
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The truth he transcended, And with it worldliness he ended, The garden of virtue he well tended, And became so alive that we seemed dead. He saw of what he was made, Or rather in truth “unmade”
For those who search blindfolded and find nothing, and for those who are given a chance to find an answer without searching. For those who look for a new place because they cannot fulfill their energy, and for those who look for a place where life would be more pleasant. For those who build houses and feel living in them is like living in a waiting-room in a bus stop.