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And when we ask of others, we are asking for mentorship. We are all mentors, and we are all mentored. When needed, may we all be humble and vulnerable enough to ask for mentorship. And when given the opportunity, may we all be humble and loving enough to be a mentor. It may be a give and take world, but it is also a give and ask world. In other words, let us love and be loved, and let us all be in realization of our need for each other.

Wild be. Ours is a culture built upon the ruthless foundation of mass migration, but it is more so now a culture of people unable to say who their people are. In that way we are, relentlessly, orphans. Being an orphan culture does not mean that we have no wisdom. But wisdom is being confused in our time with information.

Magic Tightrope: Original Poetry and musings

An orphan wisdom might be the only culture-making thing we can rightly, honourably, or faithfully claim. There is immense grief in knowing this well and going towards it anyway. That grief could be our way of working now, our labour. It could be our beauty, too. To search for small things worn by the deep is to be a poet.

Most of us achieve only at rare moments a clear realization of the fact that they have never tasted the fulfillment of existence, that their life does not participate in true, fulfilled existence, that, as it were, it passes true existence by. We nevertheless feel the deficiency at every moment, and in some measure try to find—somewhere—what we are seeking. Somewhere, in some province of the world or of the mind, except accept? The environment which I feel to be the natural one, the situation which has been assigned to me as my fate, the things that happen to me day after day—these contain my essential task and such fulfillment of existence as is open to me.

It is said of a certain Talmudic master that the paths of heaven were as bright to him as the streets of his native town. For it is here, where we stand, that we should try to make shine the light of the hidden divine life. Unless it is stopped, the dominant culture will kill everything on the planet, or at least everything it can. Each holocaust is unique. The destruction of the European Jewry did not look like the destruction of the American Indians.

It could not, because the technologies involved were not the same, the targets were not the same, and the perpetrators were not the same. They shared motivations and certain aspects of their socialization, to be sure, but they were not the same. Similarly, the slaughter of Armenians and Kurds by Turks did not and does not look like the slaughter of Vietnamese by Americans.

And just as similarly, the holocausts of the twenty-first century will not and do not already look like the great holocausts of the twentieth. They cannot, because this society has progressed. And every holocaust looks different depending on the class to which the observer belongs.

The Holocaust then also looked different to good Germans than it did to those who resisted, whose main concerns may have been how to bring down the system.

Poetry Review - Edna St. Vincent Millay's Collected Lyrics

And it looked different to those who resisted than it did to those who were considered untermenschen, whose main concerns may have been staying alive, or failing that, dying with humanity. American slavery looked different to slaves than it did to those whose comforts and elegancies were based on slavery, and than it did to those for whom free black labor drove down their wages. What will the great holocausts of the twenty-first century will look like?

It depends on where you stand. Look around. This means the holocaust will look like a booming economy beset by shifting problems that somehow always keep you from ever reaching the Promised Land, whatever that might be. The holocaust will look like numbers on ledgers. It will look like technical problems to be solved, whether those problems are increasing your access to necessary resources, dealing with global warming, calming unrest on the streets, or figuring out what to do about too many unproductive people on land you know you could put to better use.

The holocaust will look like houses with gates, limousines with bullet-proof glass, and a military budget that can never stop increasing. The holocaust will feel like economics. It will feel like progress.


It will feel like technological innovation. It will feel like civilization. It will feel like the way things are. Perhaps the holocaust will look like a new car. Perhaps it will look like lending your talents to a major corporation—or more broadly toward economic production—so you can make a better life for your children. Perhaps it will look like working as an engineer for Shell or on an assembly line for General Motors.

Perhaps it will look like anger at Mexicans or Pakistanis or Algerians or Hmong who compete with you for jobs. Perhaps it will look like outrage at environmentalists who want to save some damn suckerfish, even or especially if it impinges on your property rights, or if it takes water you need to irrigate, to make the desert bloom, to make the desert productive. Maybe it will feel like continuing to do a job that you hate—and that requires so little of your humanity—because no matter how you try, you never can seem to catch up.

Maybe it will feel like being tired at the end of the day, and just wanting to sit and watch some television. The journey to enlightenment involves shedding not collecting. Our surrender has to be genuine. DEEPER BOND Scathing tears set and takes no rest in silvery moon Lit up because their bond was deeper and free it will never touch venom I will illuminate this world, its inner peace and spirituality lashes of the eyes The depressed night even more than enough to brighten up my night Until the morning sun begins to rise and I sing a song Our love story got backtracked tranquillity Resting her head, Freed spirit over this shadow realm surreal I will let you carry me, as long I can catch your volatile dreams Wish the illusion of division, you stay your course And never stray the other side of the moon.

Brajesh Kumar Gupta.

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Be patient with yourself. Do you know what the Sacred is?

It is that which serves as your partner in your search for the highest and deepest things. Even if we find just a single fault in our own mind, it will bring us an infinite amount more benefit than doing nothing other than finding all of the faults in others. The planet is sick, in nature and culture, in need of urgent care from each of us.

The pith instruction is, Stay.

Please, no more! The lonely child who travels through The fearful waste and desolate fields, And listens to their barren tune, Greets as an unknown and best friend The terror in him, and he sings In darkness all the sweetest songs. Listening by Rumi What is the deep listening?

Sama is a greeting from the secret ones inside the heart, a letter. The branches of your intelligence grows new leaves in the wind of this listening. The body reaches a peace. The dead rise with the pleasure of listening. Listen, and feel the beauty of your separation, the unsayable absence. Learn to be companions with it. Give more of your life to this listening. As brightness is to time, so you are to the one who talks to the deep ear in your chest. I should sell my tongue and buy a thousand ears when that one steps near and begins to speak. Anything you are not willing to experience and open as, you will repeatedly confront.

If you are afraid to feel anger, if you are unwilling to love as anger and dissolve open as anger, then you will continually struggle with anger in yourself and others. If you are afraid to feel, love, and open as insecurity, then you will necessitate threats to your security. Your very recoil will sustain the ripples of that which you fear, necessitating a confrontation with whatever you are unwilling to fully feel, be alive as, and open as.

Either you look and see beyond language — as a first perception — or you see the world through the filter of your thoughts, by talking to yourself. Everyone knows what it is like to feel things directly. They are too intense in the first flash… Synchronizing mind and body is looking and seeing directly beyond language… you can see on the spot with wakefulness.

Your eyes begin to open wider and wider, and you see that the world is colorful and fresh and so precise, every sharp angle is fantastic. Let us tenderly and kindly cherish, therefore, the means of knowledge.

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Let us dare to read, think, speak, and write. A demon is not something with a large, open mouth and fiery eyes. If you have no confidence in the dharma, if you do not persevere in the dharma and only think about passing your whole life comfortably, you have a more dangerous demon right in your own mind. If boundaries are created Then brotherhood becomes a mere eleven lettered word No feelings of belonging remain When we perceive each other with an air of disdain And our pride becomes a concrete wall Dividing us And poetry dies an untimely death When segregation sets in..

If my thoughts are mere words Lost forever in the haze of separate identities Then my feelings are just worthless rantings of a lonely soul Forever mocked, laughed at and made fun of And then poetry dies an untimely death When segregation sets in… If we are not able to bridge this gap that we created And words and feelings take you further away from me Then I shall write no more And my poetry dies an untimely death… — Anita Limbu Moktan.

Strive to be uncynical, to be a hope-giving force, to be a steward of substance.


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I believe these are the teachers we most need today — the ones who can help right the ship. Thank you, thank you, thank you for ever educating me and modeling profound courage. Each species comes, of course, with its own dictionary.