ECHO
Feed the dog, or it will bark, says the ego, says about itself. Mind itself creates worlds as its own echo. Mind has no form,… Read More »ECHO
Feed the dog, or it will bark, says the ego, says about itself. Mind itself creates worlds as its own echo. Mind has no form,… Read More »ECHO
A writer develops the muscles of his mind. This training leaves hardly any leisure for sport. It demands suffering, falls… setbacks… mourning, insomnia… –Jean Cocteau,… Read More »STATEMENTS OR NOTES
A very short poem about meditative/non-meditative experience. Maybe you will find it interesting.
1. The fastest route to uniqueness: do not strive to be original, don’t be afraid to be dull and uninteresting. You must have the courage to choose your fate despite the whole world, despite the mainstream and intellectual fads.
The Japanese themselves – despite the fact that most of them “feel” wabi-sabi and can indicate examples of it – find it hard to provide an exact definition.
This poem about Krishna and Arjuna mainly advocates one taste, not going into opposition, the duality of good and evil. It’s also about fearlessness, hearing ones own heart and intuition, when one sees how things are. A poem by Jacek Dziubiński.
Someone (but who?) shakes up the jar like Poseidon Toying with waves and fish Us, that is, Who are plunged in the pliant core of… Read More »FISH
In a void, free from space and time, a subtle whisper appeared, or actually a rustle. It rustled so for a while, until it felt uneasy.
– It’s so strange, rustling coming out of nothing – it thought. And to justify its presence it created leaves for itself.
APORIA In memory of Aleksander Wat it looks it sees at a single (infinitesimally small) point the consciousness of the universe the thing it looks… Read More »APORIA
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.
The Veil, a short poem by the philosopher and writer Jacek Dziubinski. A poem that gives a lot of room for reflection and afterthoughts.
Suddenly his heart filled with an anxiety so terrible he felt as if someone had turned off the power. Everything he had been thinking of up to that point, what he had prized and planned, suddenly lost its meaning.
There would never be any disruptions to mental stability if extended difficult situations and ways of coping with them were included in the general education curriculum before young people become warped and twisted by general expectations and the search for permanent happiness and safety.
Author: TEA. each day the same – I get up – I steam some tea – whole realms with their lives – masterpieces of craft – at the bottom of the cup