An exciting novel about a count politely moving on his coutreous path of dignity in the wake of the Russian revolution, Thoreau's escapades into the nature and its chronicles in Walden and Eckhart Tolle's seminal work on the Power of Now. A little treasure on my table. A self-gift to my very own dear self on a wet, gloomy, cold day. A warm, exciting feeling pervades my mind and heart. I stare at them like a little hungry puppy ogling at a piece of meat. Watermouthed!
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One can't hope to survive as an all out truth speaking guy. Remember Jesus, Socrates and many others. These are hard times. Truth majorly needs to be supported by falsehood minorly. A fraction of falsehood pandering the vanity of a little section will save your truth against the ire of the bigger section whom you ribtickle with the iron fingers of your truth.
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It's not possible to know how far the influence of an amiable honest-hearted duty-going man flies out into the world; but it's very possible to know how it has touched one's self in going by...
Charles Dickens
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Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate.
__Thoreau
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As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.
__Thoreau
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By the diverse sets of cleverest means, most of us arrive at the same set of follies.
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The loving ripple of your lips on my cheek! Softest in silky emotion but sturdiest in ironed strength and steely support!
Post script: Speaking from objective, theoretical knowledge; not from subjective personal experience. Well, that shows poetry can come from calculating mind as well, not just from a heart in emotional whirlwind!
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Don't belittle or glorify your series of relative truths. These are no more than mind-created concepts and no less than the shadow of absolute truth when there is still no clue about the final truth. Watch them as no more or less than what they are and they become the stepping stones to the ultimate truth.
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Just into unexpected fortunes, an adolescent Pip, forced into stylish clothes, muses in Dickens' masterpiece Great Expectations:
"I am conscious that he carried off his rather old clothes much better than I carried off my new suit."
Playacted niceties are still soulless and genuine rusticity will still have its class and affable spirit. An open falsehood is still better than the pretended truth.
Because as another character says so aptly, "No varnish can hide the grain of the wood; and that the more varnish you put on, the more the grain will express itself."
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As Joe, the simple, but true to himself, countryside blacksmith tells Pip, the gentleman in making due to a sudden arrival of fortune, and hence under the weight of great expectations in Dickens' masterpiece Great Expectations:
"...life is made of ever so many partings welded together..."
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A little light of truth and one's soul blooms up like a spring flower!
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Joe, the true-to-himself countryside blacksmith in Great Expectations, 'did his duty in his way of life, and with a strong hand, a quiet tongue, and a gentle heart.'
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Through the harshest phase of the winters it was a sickly plant, subdued like an old man having aggravated bronchial problems. Then the healer comes in vibrant colours. Father sun sows the seeds of spring around. The plant feels well and says, "I'm ok now!" This little bud is the title of its wellness. Happy spring little flower!
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Weekend gifts to my very own dear self! Some books, what else! Shower yourself with self-love! Rest of the issues are mere offshoots of the same.
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Young lass and her dewy jewellery! Seems to say: A bright, happy and joyful Valentine day to everyone! Love you all!
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When we talk of this existence as an infinite entity, there has to be some illusionary element in its pattern. Only something dreamy, illusionary has the probability of spreading its spectrum in infinite ways. A specific entity cannot be explained in terms of infinity. Infinity is possible only when we include some illusionary elements in our estimation of the ultimate.
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I have seen many people who are good by instinct. Then there are many who at least try to be good after carefully measuring things on the scale of good and bad. The former are a bit more evolved on the basis of past karmas. The latter are a work in process. Everyone around is simply a work in process, a phenomenon.
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इसको कहते हैं खिलना। इतना खिलना की बिखरना सिर्फ खिलने का अगला, सुखद चरण मात्र बनके रह जाए। पूरा खिलने के बाद बिखरना अर्थहीन हो जाता है। होने और ना होने के द्वंद के परे है संपूर्णता से होना। जियो जीवन भर के, पूरा खिलो। पीड़ारहित बिखरना तभी संभव है जब आपने खिलने में सब कुछ अर्पित कर दिया हो।
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और ज्यादा खिला। It happens when you welcome life with the widest bear hug! This is expansion! Then a playful tug of the gentle air will aid in further expansion! A drizzle of ecstasy will occur! The petals will fly away to be a bigger part of a larger dimension! The smile doesn't die. It acquires a broader plain.
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About the number of breaths per minute Sadguru says: "If your breath becomes seven, you know everything that is worth knowing in existence. That means your body becomes so stable that there is no static, no crackle – it just perceives everything. Even now, the body perceives – otherwise you could not exist. You may not be conscious of it, but your body understands exactly how the Earth is spinning, what is happening with the Sun, what is happening with everything. As long as you live, your body is adjusting to all that."
I don't know how to put it. My breathing rate at rest is 7 breaths/minute. But far from feeling the divinity of it, as Sadguru says, I feel as restless and ignorant as ever. I mean I remember my journey from 12 breaths/ minute to the present rate. But as far as feeling is concerned it's the same. The bliss is missing. I still lack that crucial experiential dimension of knowledge. All the knowledge I possess seems theoretical and worthless! The entire set of stuff crammed in the mind is worthless unless one enters the experiential dimension. Till then all are same, be it a doctorate in philosophy or an illiterate beggar.
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Try to be a bird that enjoys perching upon the scarecrow itself. In easy lingo, s(h)it on your fears and bury them with the unwanted extras in you.
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