BirchLane.net
April 2003
Wednesday 30
Headlines. We will just call the month of April "The Month of Headlines" and move right into the month of May.
Sunday 27
The Elements.
Saturday 26
Bill Brandt at British Museum.
Friday 25
Dance.
Thursday 24
Where a Road Leads.
Wednesday 23
What?
Tuesday 22
A Family Seder at the Neighbor's.
Monday 21
Appointment with the Urologist.
Sunday 20.
Imagine.
When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body. 2Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb 3and they asked each other, "Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?"
4But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. 5As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.
6"Don't be alarmed," he said. "You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7But go, tell his disciples and Peter, 'He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.' "
8Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.
~Mark 16:1-8Saturday 19
Why History? From a friend in Vermont:
I was so excited by this quote, I wanted to call someone and read it aloud to someone, just to get more excited about it. I have never read anything so loving and gentle and inspiring about History. It made my cheeks flush and my skin tingle. Yes, I know there are things like this written about nearly every study, but this one rung true for me and helped me understand why I personally want to study history. I am still high off of it. Goodness. Maybe I'll print it out and hang it on my door.Friday 18
Test Results.
Thursday 17
Service of Darkness.
And He came out and went according to His custom to the aMount of Olives; and the disciples also followed Him.40 And when He came to the 1aplace, He bsaid to them, cPray that you do not enter into temptation.41 And He withdrew from them about a stone's throw, and He aknelt down and bprayed,42 Saying, Father, if You are willing, remove this 1acup from Me; yet, not My bwill, but 2Yours be done.43 1And an aangel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him.44 And being in aagony He prayed more earnestly, and His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down upon the ground.45 And when He rose up from prayer and came to the disciples, He found them sleeping from 1sorrow,46 And He said to them, Why are you sleeping? Rise up and pray that you may not enter into temptation.
~Luke 22:39-44
Wednesday 16.
Spiritual Guidance and Rejuvenation.
Tuesday 15.
Ct Scan.
Monday 14
Weston.
Sunday 13
Three Women.
Saturday 112.
Looking for Matisse.
Friday 11
More Inspiration. First this from a friend in Canada.
"Coming to terms with silence is a necessary element in self-knowledge and in prayer. Pascal claimed that 'most of man's troubles come from his not being able to sit quietly in his chamber'.
Throughout the writings of all the great spiritual guides, we find the call to inner silence. In the tradition of the desert, the early term for a monk was hesuchastes, one who lived in solitude and silence. Hesuchia was seen as the essential condition of prayerfulness. It is more than silence, it is state of soul characterized by sobriety, inner vigilance, attention to God.
One of the Desert Fathers, Arsenius, was told, 'Flee, keep silent, be still, for these are the roots of sinlessness.' St. John Climacus uses the same language about hesychia which Evagrius used about prayer itself. 'Hesychia is a laying aside of thought.'
Before true prayer can begin, there must be a discipline of thought through the practice of silence and withdrawal, and a discipline of the body through the practice of some degree of physical solitude and stillness. Then, says St. Basis, 'When the mind is no longer dissipated amidst external things, nor dispersed across the world through the senses, it returns to itself; and by means of itself it ascends to the thought of God.' It is in this context that silence can help us to grow by reducing the overcrowding of the mind, and enabling the heart to become centred in gentleness and peace."And this comes from a Buddhist nun of Thich Nhat Hahn's Plum Village in France.
Letter to a Young Activist During Troubled Times by
Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D.
Do not lose heart. We were made for these times.
I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and
properly bewildered. They are concerned about the
state of affairs in our world right now ... Ours is a
time of almost daily astonishment and often righteous
rage over the latest degradations of what matters most
to civilized, visionary people.
You are right in your assessments. I urge you,
ask you, gentle you, to please not spend your spirit
dry by bewailing these difficult times. Especially do
not lose hope. Most particularly because, the fact is
- we were made for these times. Yes. For years, we
have been learning, practicing, been in training for
and just waiting to meet on this exact plane of
engagement.
I grew up on the Great Lakes and recognize a
seaworthy vessel when I see one. Regarding awakened
souls, there have never been more able crafts in the
waters than there are right now across the world. And
they are fully provisioned and able to signal one
another as never before in the history of humankind...
Look out over the prow; there are millions of boats
of righteous souls on the waters with you. Even
though your veneers may shiver from every wave in this
stormy roil, I assure you that the long timbers
composing your prow and rudder come from a greater
forest. That long-grained lumber is known to withstand
storms, to hold together, to hold its own, and to
advance, regardless.
We have been in training for a dark time such as
this, since the day we assented to come to Earth. For
many decades, worldwide, souls just like us have been
felled and left for dead in so many ways over and over
brought down by naivete, by lack of love, by being
ambushed and assaulted by various cultural and
personal shocks in the extreme. We have a history of
being gutted, and yet remember this especially - we
have also, of necessity, perfected the knack of
resurrection. Over and over again we have been the
living proof that that which has been exiled, lost, or
foundered can be restored to life again.
In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer
toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in
the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency
too to fall into being weakened by perseverating on
what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be.
Do not focus there. That is spending the wind
without raising the sails. We are needed, that is all
we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more
so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us
and guide us, and we will know them when they appear.
Didn't you say you were a believer? Didn't you say
you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn't you
ask for grace? Don't you remember that to be in grace
means to submit to the voice greater?...
Understand the paradox: If you study the physics
of a waterspout,you will see that the outer vortex
whirls far more quickly than the inner one. To calm
the storm means to quiet the outer layer, to cause it
to swirl much less, to more evenly match the velocity
of the inner core - till whatever has been lifted into
such a vicious funnel falls back to Earth, lays down,
is peaceable again. One of the most important steps
you can take to help calm the storm is to not allow
yourself to be taken in a flurry of overwrought
emotion or desperation thereby accidentally
contributing to the swale and the swirl.
Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world
all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of
the world that is within our reach.
Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to
help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor
suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given
to us to know which acts or by whom,will cause the
critical mass to tip toward an enduring good. What is
needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts,
adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know
that it does not take "everyone on Earth" to bring
justice and peace, but only a small, determined group
who will not give up during the first, second, or
hundredth gale.
One of the most calming and powerful actions you
can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up
and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in
dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can
send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper
matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul
in shadowy times like these -- to be fierce and to
show mercy toward others, both, are acts of immense
bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls
catch light from other souls who are fully lit and
willing to show it.
If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one
of the strongest things you can do.
There will always be times when you feel
discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my
life, but I do not keep a chair for it; I will not
entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate.
The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know
something, as do you.
It is that there can be no despair when you
remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who
sent you here. The good words we say and the good
deeds we do are not ours: They are the words and deeds
of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I
hope you will write this on your wall: When a great
ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be
no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built
for.
This comes with much love and prayer that you
remember who you came from, and why you came to this
beautiful, needful Earth.
- Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Author, Women Who Run
With the WolvesThursday 10
The Book of the Dove. I find this fascinating story here:
0nce, a Russian folk tale relates, a great book
fell to earth from out of a thundercloud. It was
hundreds of feet in length and width and the people
were unable to open and read it until it disclosed
something of its meaning to a wise king, who explained
to the gathered people that the universe is the garment
of God. But no man,not even the wisest, could read
the book. The title of that book, which must represent
the mystery of nature, was "The Book of the Dove."
There is a "Book of the Dove" by the 13th century
Syrian Bar Hebraeus which can be indeed be opened
and read. It is, unlike that great book from the
sky, a very small book, if hard to find. But it
too has its mysteries.
Bar Hebraeus (1226-1286) was the last and perhaps
most brilliant of the great Syriac writers. His
work is in a wide range of genres from a history
of the world, to humor, to an encycleopedia. In
chapter four of his Book of the Dove he tells
something of his inner life.
When he was young he studied and argued theology
with other Christians, but then he came see the
differences as not worth the hatred he saw them
engender,
"I became convinced that these quarrels of
Christians among themselves are not a
matter of facts, but of words and of
semantics..."and I wholly eradicated the root
of hatred from the depth of my heart and
absolutely forsook disputation with anyone
regarding confession"
Then he turned to logic, and mathematics and
astronomy and physics and metaphysics, "because
life is short and learning long and broad I read
concerning every branch of science only what was
most necessary."
He learned "that the colours of the rainbow are
only caused by density and rarefaction,compactness
and transparency." I recall one of my early science
teachers teaching this to us, and drawing the simple
materialist lesson from it that therefore we
ought not feel a sense of wonder when we look at
the rainbow, since all it is is light refracted.
But Bar Hebraeus derives from this rather that
the wonder of the source of light is something greater,
and other,than the colors of the refracted image.
Yet what science could not do, incline him to doubt,
the words of the theologians did He fell towards
unbelief for the words of the theologians of his time
seemed all nulls, or "simple thoughts without effect."
Then "some of the rays of the light without limit
came on me like the flash of lightning
and my eyes opened a little and I saw more
but only partly..
Now without ceasing I pray that all that
impedes my sight yet may be destroyed
and eye to eye I may behold the beloved..
The following few sentences are a part of
what I saw in the flash of lightning.."
And there follow one hundred paragraphs, of the genre
of the "Century" so common in that time. Some of
them are conventional, here and there is something
remarkable,
"..I found myself in the light of light,
my limbs relaxed, my mind vanished and I was
like a man on a runaway stallion or flying
through the air .."
and sometimes something wise and earned
from his experience as well as from illumination,
(concerning "teachers and sages, exoteric and esoteric")
"... when I see that they have dared to
weigh all in their scale their boast does
not seem beautiful to me, for thought their
scale seems just and right it does not contain
the multitude of things of the world to come."
But at the end he says.. "speech already wearies me,
while my heart tends to what is more expedient"
and finally one more word..
(There is the book from the thunder cloud,and here in
this little book is the lightning of illumination, but
after the thunder and the lightning flash surely this
too is the voice of the Dove..)
"I realized that a man can receive nothing except
as gift."
Tuesday 08.
ART. I read the following here:
"Who is that person whom you call an artist? A man who is momentarily creative? To me he is not an artist. The man who merely at rare moments has this creative impulse and expresses that creativeness through perfection of technique, surely you would not call him an artist. To me, the true artist is one who lives completely, harmoniously, who does not divide his art from living, whose very life is that expression, whether it be a picture, music, or his behavior; who has not divorced his expression on a canvas or in music or in stone from his daily conduct, daily living. That demands the highest intelligence, highest harmony. To me the true artist is the man who has that harmony. He may express it on canvas, or he may talk, or he may paint; or he may not express it at all, he may feel it. But all this demands that exquisite poise, that intensity of awareness and, therefore, his expression is not divorced from the daily continuity of living."
Jiddu Krishnamurti, Living in Ecstasy, Ojai, California, June 29, 1934And this: Jack Kerouac's "Belief and Technique for Modern Prose" List of Essentials:
1. scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy
2.submissive to everything,open,listening
3.try never to get drunk outside yr own home
4.be in love with yr life
5.something that you feel will find its own form
6.be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
7.blow as deep as you want to blow
8.write what you want bottomless from the bottom of your mind
9.the unspeakable visions of the individual
10.no time for poetry but exactly what it is
11.visionary tics shivering in the chest
12.in tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
13.remove literary,grammatical and syntactical inhibition
14.like Proust be an old teahead of time
15.telling the true story of the world in interior monologue
16.the jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
17.write in recollection and amazement of yrself
18.work from middle eye out swimming in a language of sea
19.accept loss forever
20.believe in the holy contour of life
21.struggle to sketch the flow..that exists intact in the mind
22.don't think of words when u stop but to see picture better
23.keep track of everyday emblazoned in yr morning
24. no fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience,language and knowledge
25.write for the world to see yr exact picture in it
26.bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual american form
27.in praise of character in the bleak inhuman loneliness
28.composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under,crazier the better
29. yr the geenius of all time
30.Writer- Director of Earthly movies Sponsored and Angeled in heavenMonday 07.
The Wonder. I went to Forbes Library today and checked out:
Clara Schumann, The Artist and the Woman, by Nancy B. Reich
The Daybooks of Edward Weston, Edited by Nancy Newhall
Edward Weston 1886-1958, Edited by Manfred Heiting
Henri Matisse, A Retrospective, by John Elderfield (MOMA)
Callahan, Edited by John SzarkowskiSunday 06
So Many Gifts and Cormac Calls. (Add something about Cormac and Church sermon)
There are so many gifts
Still unopened from your birthday,
There are so many hand-crafted presents
That have been sent to you by God.
The Beloved does not mind repeating,
"Everything I have is also yours."
Please forgive Hafiz and the Friend
If we break into a sweet laughter
When your heart complains of being thirsty
When ages ago
Every cell in your soul
Capsized forever
Into this infinite golden sea.
Indeed,
A lover's pain is like holding one's breath
Too long
In the middle of a vital performance,
In the middle of one of Creation's favorite
Songs.
Indeed, a lover's pain in this sleeping,
This sleeping,
When God just rolled over and gave you
Such a big good-morning kiss!
There are so many gifts, my dear,
Still unopened from your birthday.
O, there are so many hand-crafted presents
That have been sent to your life
From God.
(The Gift: Poems by Hafiz, translations by Daniel Ladinsky)
and
Sonnet 146
Poor soul the centre of my sinful earth,
[Fooled by] these rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms inheritors of this excess
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?
Then soul live thou upon thy servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more,
So shall thou feed on death, that feeds on men,
And death once dead, there's no more dying thenSaturday 05
The Ice Storm.
Friday 04
3:47 p.m.
Gort, Klaatu barada nikto. Thursday 03
A Life With Picasso. (book excerpt)
Wednesday 02
Mozart Piano Sonata in A. (dano, holyoke, opera, eyes of leonardo)
Tuesday 01
Today. My eyes were closed, but I heard Betsy say "Snow." I thought this was an April Fools Day joke. But when I opened my eyes and looked out the window there was indeed a thin blanket of snow on the ground; the sun was bright and the sky blue and by late morning the snow was gone. I worked at my desk for an hour and then went to Smith College to lift weights, came home, showered, and worked for a few more hours. At noon I went to the Post Office, the bank, and the Municipal Building to inquire about a parking ticket I received last week; the lady behind the counter was kind and dismissed the fine. Before heading home, I stopped at JavaNet Cafe for a cup of decaf and took a few photos:
