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Things as Beautiful

5/16/2016

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Since our earliest age we are being taught that there is right and wrong, and we should know them apart.
There is good and bad, and we deserve only the former.
There is ugly and beautiful, and we should always strive for the latter.

Every moment of every day, we are making a judgment whether we like something or not, be it a meal, a TV program, the weather outside, the information we have just received, the noises we hear around us. Somehow we think that the more like boxes we tick next to the countless events of every day, the happier we will be. We believe that all we need to do is work hard to one day finally achieve the situation in which every single thing that has happened to us has the quality of ‘‘I-like-it’’. Should any ‘’I-don’t-like-it’’ events or situations arise, we need to immediately start finding ways how to remove them.

Simple and logical, someone might say.
(Hm!), someone else might raise an eyebrow and think ‘’or is it really?’’
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In light of these thoughts on man-made dualistic concepts, I am sharing with you a few verses by Lao Tzu, a 6th century BC poet and philosopher from China. The verses are taken from his famous work Tao Te Ching, a body of mystical writing which forms an important basis of Daoism.

I hope you'll understand the poem. Whether you'll like it is far less important. ;)

Things as Beautiful


When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad.
Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
Long and short define each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.
Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come;
things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn’t possess,
acts but doesn’t expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.

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Please Call Me by My True Names

5/9/2016

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Sometimes the moment I open my eyes I feel that I am being bombed by so many examples of craziness, suffering, ruthlessness, negativity... And all of that seems to be floating around continuously in my country, as well as globally. It makes me feel angry. Sad. Frustrated. Helpless. ... And judgmental. Very judgmental.

What kind of people (I say people here, but let's be honest in my mental chatter I will probably use the word idiots, at the very least) can vote for this party? What kind of people can harm other human beings for no apparent reasons? What kind of people can fear everything and everyone which doesn't come from their nation and religion? The list of questions goes on and on. But merely asking these questions and resenting all of those people changes nothing.

I read something by Eckhart Tolle recently, which really spoke to me deeply:


If her past were your past, her pain your pain, her level of consciousness your level of consciousness, you would think and act exactly as she does. With this realization comes forgiveness, compassion and peace.
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A wall somewhere in Kathmandu
Violence and judgments can result only in more violence and judgments. You can't plant an apple tree and hope for peaches, right? I mean, this approach hasn't really worked for humanity thus far, and I'd say several thousands of years is a fair trial period.

I remembered a poem by Thich Nhat Hanh I once saw, posted on a notice board in a meditation center and I wanted to share it here. It explains everything I want to say far more elegantly and beautifully.
Please Call Me by My True Names

I have a poem for you. This poem is about three of us.
The first is a twelve-year-old girl, one of the boat
people crossing the Gulf of Siam. She was raped by a
sea pirate, and after that she threw herself into the
sea. The second person is the sea pirate, who was born
in a remote village in Thailand. And the third person
is me. I was very angry, of course. But I could not take
sides against the sea pirate. If I could have, it would
have been easier, but I couldn't. I realized that if I
had been born in his village and had lived a similar life
- economic, educational, and so on - it is likely that I
would now be that sea pirate. So it is not easy to take
sides. Out of suffering, I wrote this poem. It is called
"Please Call Me by My True Names," because I have many names,
and when you call me by any of them, I have to say, "Yes."


Don't say that I will depart tomorrow --
even today I am still arriving.


Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.


I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.


The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.


I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.


I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.


I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.


I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.


I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his "debt of blood" to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.


My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.


Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.


Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart
can be left open,
the door of compassion.

Remember to be kind today. Especially to those who know how to push your  buttons.  :)
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Impermanence

4/25/2016

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Exactly one year ago, I was in Nepal, teaching yoga at a few places around Kathmandu.

It was Saturday, we went to the Farmer’s market. We bought avocados and goat cheese. And some really good home-made bread. Maybe some cookies as well. We were on our way to a picnic to celebrate a friend’s birthday.

But then with no warning, no countdown, no one to be held responsible – the earthquake happened.

I had classes to teach, friends to meet, places to see, a plane to India to board. To say the least, Mother Earth cared little for my plans, or anyone else’s.

It shook us all down to our very cores. Friends were out of reach. Friends lost houses. Friends lost their family members. Friends lost their lives. Friends showed up for each other. Friends helped to whomever they could and as much as they could.


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We all know that nothing lasts forever, including ourselves. We know it, but we don’t live that knowledge - the fact slips our mind often. The earthquake showed us exactly how fragile we are, reminding us that the most precious thing we have – our lives – are so easily lost. It showed us what Impermanence really means.

It showed us that every breath we take matters so much as if it was the last. Because it could easily be.
As the aftermath of the Nepal earthquake, during a mental earthquake inside of me, I promised myself that I would celebrate each day, no matter what it brings. That I will appreciate every feeling, as feeling means I am alive. That I will take care of the people around me, no matter who they are. That I will make every moment worth being your last.

Honestly, sometimes I forget to live the knowledge of impermanence and take myself and my plans too seriously. It’s ok, I am just a human. I am still learning.  :)

Sending love to Nepal and concluding with a few lines by Buddha and a photo from Bhaktapur taken before the earthquake:


Thus shall ye think of all this fleeting world:


a star at dawn,

a bubble in a stream;

a flash of lightning in a summer cloud,

a flickering lamp,

a phantom

and a  dream.



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The Peace of Wild Things

4/18/2016

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Whenever I feel frustrated, agitated, purposeless, sad, angry, scared, worried, jealous, alone, abandoned, uncertain, hopeless... I go and find a big tree. The bigger the better. The older the better. The rougher the bark the better.
I let my bare feet feel the ground, I sit under the tree and lean against its roughness. I sit with the tree and try to just be.

More often than not, things fall back into place.

It the photo is one of those trees. I ''found'' this one in Sri Lanka and it taught me that when you choose to grow in unconventional ways, the results can be magical!

This Monday I wanted to share with you a poem by Wendell Berry, an inspiring contemporary American poet and environmentalist.
The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.


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What reason could we even wish for?

4/11/2016

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We mostly don't associate Mondays with joy.
Usually, it's the opposite - Monday is like the ultimate nagging reminder or impermanence: no matter how amazing your weekend was, here I am and there's nothing you can do to stop me.
That's why we decided to offer you some inspiration every Monday in this new section in our blog, called quite appropriately - Monday Inspiration
Every Monday we'll share with you some of our favorite poems, inspirational quotes, or some other piece of inspirational writing.

And for the grand opening of this blog section, who could be a better guest that one of the greatest Persian mystic poets - Hafez? Hafez lived in 14th century Persia, but is still widely read in present day Iran.


This poem of his is one of my personal favorites. It is so easy forget that we don't need reasons to feel joy. Actually, there can be no reason behind joy - joy is the cause and the effect. 

Enjoy the poem and feel free to share your reflections in the comments below.

And For No Reason

And
For no reason
I start skipping like a child.

And
For no reason
I turn into a leaf
That is carried so high
I kiss the Sun's mouth
And dissolve.

And
For no reason
A thousand birds
Choose my head for a conference table,
Start passing their
Cups of wine
And their wild songbooks all around.

And
For every reason in existence
I begin to eternally,
To eternally laugh and love!

When I turn into a leaf
And start dancing,
I run to kiss our beautiful Friend
And I dissolve in the Truth
That I Am.

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