For Everything That Rises Must Converge

"Remain true to yourself, but move ever upward toward greater consciousness and greater love! At the summit you will find yourselves united with all those who, from every direction, have made the same ascent. For everything that rises must converge."

... Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Before I Die...

What would you do before you die, 
if you knew the hour of your death?

It’s easy to get caught up in the day-to-day and forget what really matters to you. With help from friends and neighbors, I turned the side of an abandoned house in my neighborhood into a giant chalkboard to invite people to share what is important to them. Before I Die transforms a neglected space into a constructive one where we can learn the hopes and aspirations of the people around us.

... Before I Die, Candy Chang

I Am Not Gone

I am not gone

I remain here beside you

Just in a different form

Look for me in your heart

And there you will find me

in our love which forever lives on

In those moments when you feel alone

Look for me in your thoughts

And there you will find me

in sweet memories that burn strong

Every time a tear

Forms in your beautiful eyes

Look up to the heavens

And there you will see me

Smiling down from God's glorious skies

... Injete Chesoni

What Is A Saint?

What is a saint? A saint is someone who has achieved a remote human possibility. It is impossible to say what that possibility is. I think it has something to do with the energy of love. Contact with this energy results in the exercise of a kind of balance in the chaos of existence. A saint does not dissolve the chaos; if he did the world would have changed long ago. I do not think that a saint dissolves the chaos even for himself, for there is something arrogant and warlike in the notion of a man setting the universe in order. 

It is a kind of balance that is his glory. He rides the drifts like an escaped ski. His course is the caress of the hill. His track is a drawing of the snow in a moment of its particular arrangement with wind and rock. Something in him so loves the world that he gives himself to the laws of gravity and chance. Far from flying with the angels, he traces with the fidelity of a seismograph needle the state of the solid bloody landscape. His house is dangerous and finite, but he is at home in the world. He can love the shape of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love.

... Beautiful Losers, Leonard Cohen

I Want You

... I Want You (Love Theme from "French Kiss")

Ask Not Of Me, Love, What Is Love?

Ask not of me, love, what is love?

Ask what is good of God above;

Ask of the great sun what is light;

Ask what is darkness of the night;

Ask sin of what may be forgiven;

Ask what is happiness of heaven;

Ask what is folly of the crowd;

Ask what is fashion of the shroud;

Ask what is sweetness of thy kiss;

Ask of thyself what beauty is.

... Festus, Philip James Bailey

If...

If you are, you breath.

If you breath, you talk.

If you talk, you ask.

If you ask, you think.

If you think, you search.

If you search, you experience.

If you experience, you learn.

If you learn, you grow.

If you grow, you wish.

If you wish, you find.

And if you find… you doubt.

If you doubt, you question.

If you question, you understand.

If you understand, you know.

And if you know, you want to know more.

And if you want to know more, you are… alive.

Koran By Heart

On his way home from covering the Persian Gulf war, the filmmaker Greg Barker stayed overnight in a small Egyptian village. Early the next morning, an undulating sound awakened him. For someone raised in Southern California, where predawn interruptions usually come from car alarms, it took some time to realize he was hearing the muezzin’s call to prayer.

In that moment, Mr. Barker sensed both epiphany and rebuke. Something about the summons to worship clearly mattered enormously to the people now heading toward the mosque. Yet even after working for months as a journalist in Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, reporting on a war in the midst of the Muslim world, Mr. Barker had to admit that he knew virtually nothing about Islam.

Now, 20 years later, the curiosity and challenge of that moment have reached fruition in the form of the documentary “Koran by Heart.” The film follows three children as they compete in an international contest to memorize and recite from the Koran, the Muslim holy book. Fittingly, it will be shown on HBO on Monday as the Muslim holy month of Ramadan begins.

... Koran By Heart

Trapped In Our Own NOW

The night sky is a time machine. Look out and you look back in time. But this "time travel by eyesight" is not just the province of astronomy. It's as close as the machine on which you are reading these words. Your present exists at the mercy of many overlapping pasts. So where, then, is "now"?

As almost everyone knows, when you stare into the depths of space you are also looking back in time. Catch a glimpse of a relatively nearby star and you see it as it existed when, perhaps, Lincoln was president (if it's 150 light-years away). Stars near the edge of our own galaxy are only seen as they appeared when the last ice age was in full bloom (30,000 light-years away). And those giant pinwheel assemblies of stars called galaxies are glimpsed, as they existed millions, hundreds of millions or even billions of years in the past.

We never see the sky as it is, but only as it was.

Stranger still, the sky we see at any moment defines not a single past but multiple overlapping pasts of different depths. The star's image from 100 years ago and the galaxy image from 100 million years ago reach us at the same time. All of those "thens" define the same "now" for us.

The multiple, foliated pasts comprising our present would be weird enough if it was just a matter of astronomy. But the simple truth is that every aspect of our personal "now" is a layered impression of a world already lost to the past...

We live, each of us, trapped in our own now.

The simple conclusions described above derive, in their way, from relativity theory and they seem to spell the death knell for a philosophical stance called Presentism. According to Presentism only the present moment has ontological validity. In other words: only the present truly exists; only the present is real.

Presentism holds an intuitive sway for many people. It just feels right. For myself, when I try and explore the texture of my own experience, I can't help but feel a sense of the present's dominance. Buddhism, with its emphasis on contemplative introspection, has developed a sophisticated presentist stance concerning the nature of reality. "Anyone who has ever mediated for anytime" the abbot of a Zen monastery once told me "finds that the past and future are illusions."

Yes, but ...

The reality that even light travels at a finite speed forces us to confront the strange fact that, at best, the present exists at the fractured center of many overlapping pasts.

So where, then, are we in time? Where is our "now" and how does it live in the midst of a universe comprised of so many "thens"?

...Where Is The Now? The Paradox Of The Present

Only In My Thoughts...

‎"I have so much to tell you that I do not [know] where to begin. 

Nor do I know what things I have actually written to you about already, 

and what things I have related to you only in my thoughts" 

... Alban Berg to Theodor Wiesengrund-Adorno

Vienna. May 2, 1927

Mid-Sya'ban

“The Messenger of God stood [in prayer] and lengthened his prostration until I thought that he died. When I saw this, I got up to move his finger and it moved. And so I went back. When he rose his head from prostration towards me and completed his prayers he said, ‘O ʿĀʾisha, or O Ḥumayrāʾ, did you believe that the Prophet was deceiving you? I said: ‘By God, no. But I thought you died because of the length of your prostration. He said: ‘Do you know what night this is?’ I said: ‘God and His Messenger knows best.’ He said: ‘This is the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān. God looks at his servants on the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān and he forgives those seeking forgiveness, has mercy on those seeking mercy, and leaves the bearers of grudges as they are.’”

She also related: “God the Exalted showers goodness (khayr) in abundance during four nights; the Nights of Aḍḥā and Fiṭr (i.e. the night of the two ʿĪds), the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān in which deaths and provisions are determined as are the pilgrimages written, and the evening of ʿArafa until the call to prayers."

The Prophet used to spend the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān praying and its day fasting. On the authority of ʿAli the Prophet said: “If it is the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān then stand [in prayer] during its night and fast its day. For God descends to the heavens of the earth when the sun sets and says, ‘Is there anyone who seeks forgiveness so that I may forgive him? Is there anyone who seeks provision so that I may grant him provision? Is there anyone afflicted so that I may remove his affliction? Is there not such and such,’ until the dawn breaks.'

For this reason, it is encouraged to be abundant in worship during this night, particularly in prayer and supplication. ʿAtāʾ b. Yasār said: “After the Night of Power (Laylat al-Qadr), there is no night greater than the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān. It is from amongst the nights that supplications are answered.”

It is said that the angels in the heavens have two ʿĪds as humans on earth have two ʿĪds. The ʿĪd of the angels is the Night of Salvation (Laylat al-Barāʾa) which is the night of the fifteenth of Shaʿbān, and the Night of Power (Laylat al-Qadr). The ʿĪds of the believers are ʿĪd al-Fiṭr and ʿĪd al-Aḍḥā. For this reason, the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān has been described as the night of the ʿĪd of the angels.

Al-Subkī writes in his Tafsīr, the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān atones for the sins of a year, the night of Friday atones for the sins of the week, and the Night of Power (Laylat al-Qadr) atones for the sins of a lifetime. In other words, keeping vigil during this night is a cause of the atonement of a year’s sins. For this reason, the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān is also known as the “Night of Atonement.”

This night is also called the “Night of Forgiveness” because of the hadith on the authority of Abū Mūsā al-Ashʿar saying, the Messenger of God said: “God looks [at His creation] during the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān and forgives the entirety of His creation except for the polytheist and the inciter of ill-will amongst people (mushāḥin).”

It is also known as the “Night of Apportionment (qisma) and Determination (taqdīr),” ʿAṭāʾ b. Yasār said: “During the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān, the angel of death records all those who will die from Shaʿbān to Shaʿbān. The servant plants seeds, gets married, and builds buildings all the while his name is recorded amongst the dead. The angel of death but awaits for the order to seize his soul.”

It is said that the one who is miserable (shaqī) is he who has been deprived of the blessings and mercy of this night. In a hadith on the authority of ʿĀʾisha saying, “The Prophet said: ‘Jibrīl has come to me and said: ‘This is the Night of Mid-Shaʿbān. By God, there are people who will be saved from the Fire as the number of hairs on the sheep of [the tribe] of Kalb. In it, God will not look at a polytheist, one who incites rancor in the hearts of people towards others, one who severs the bonds of the womb, one who drags his clothing [out of pride], one who transgresses against his parents, or one who is addicted to alcohol.’”

... Taken from SeekersGuidance

Cathedral

How far up the river

Would you go, would you go

To meet me again ?

And I built the cathedral

With the shelves that you held

In the hole in a tree...

There's a time to let it grow
There's a time to let it slow
And a time to let it go

... Cathedral, Cocoon

Evening Solace

The human heart has hidden treasures,

In secret kept, in silence sealed;—

The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,

Whose charms were broken if revealed.

And days may pass in gay confusion,

And nights in rosy riot fly,

While, lost in Fame’s or Wealth’s illusion,

The memory of the Past may die.

But there are hours of lonely musing,

Such as in evening silence come,

When, soft as birds their pinions closing,

The heart’s best feelings gather home.

Then in our souls there seems to languish

A tender grief that is not woe;

And thoughts that once wrung groans of anguish

Now cause but some mild tears to flow.

And feelings, once as strong as passions,

Float softly back — a faded dream;

Our own sharp griefs and wild sensations,

The tale of others’ sufferings seem.

Oh! when the heart is freshly bleeding,

How longs it for that time to be,

When, through the mist of years receding,

Its woes but live in reverie!

And it can dwell on moonlight glimmer,

On evening shade and loneliness;

And, while the sky grows dim and dimmer,

Feel no untold and strange distress —

Only a deeper impulse given

By lonely hour and darkened room,

To solemn thoughts that soar to heaven

Seeking a life and world to come.

... Evening Solace, Charlotte Brontë

Of Cabbages And Kings

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--

Of cabbages--and kings--

And why the sea is boiling hot--

And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,

"Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

And all of us are fat!"

"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,

"Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

Are very good indeed--

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,

Turning a little blue.

"After such kindness, that would be

A dismal thing to do!"

"The night is fine," the Walrus said.

"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!

And you are very nice!"

The Carpenter said nothing but

"Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf--

I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,

"To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

And made them trot so quick!"

The Carpenter said nothing but

"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:

"I deeply sympathize."

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,

"You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

But answer came there none--

And this was scarcely odd, because

They'd eaten every one.

"I like the Walrus best," said Alice, "because you see he was a little sorry for the poor oysters."

"He ate more than the Carpenter, though," said Tweedledee. "You see he held his handkerchief in front, so that the Carpenter couldn't count how many he took: contrariwise."

"That was mean!" Alice said indignantly. "Then I like the Carpenter best—if he didn't eat so many as the Walrus."

"But he ate as many as he could get," said Tweedledum.

This was a puzzler. After a pause, Alice began, "Well! They were both very unpleasant characters—"

... The Walrus and The Carpenter, Lewis Caroll

The Seven

“There are seven whom Allah will shade with His shade on the Day when there is no shade except His: a just ruler; a youth who grew up in the worship of His Lord; a man whose heart is attached to mosques; two men who love each other only for Allah’s sake, meeting and parting for that love; a man who resists the call of a woman of noble birth and beauty to commit fornication, but he refuses and says “I fear Allah”; a man who gives charity secretly so that his left hand does not know what his right hand has given; and a man whose eyes flood with tears whenever he remembers Allah in private.” [Sahih Bukhari]

The Lady Of Shalott

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale yellow woods were waning,

The broad stream in his banks complaining,

Heavily the low sky raining

Over tower'd Camelot;

Down she came and found a boat

Beneath a willow left afloat,

And round about the prow she wrote

The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river's dim expanse

Like some bold seer in a trance,

Seeing all his own mischance--

With a glassy countenance

Did she look to Camelot.

And at the closing of the day

She loosed the chain, and down she lay;

The broad stream bore her far away,

The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white

That loosely flew to left and right--

The leaves upon her falling light--

Thro' the noises of the night

She floated down to Camelot:

And as the boat-head wound along

The willowy hills and fields among,

They heard her singing her last song,

The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,

Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,

Till her blood was frozen slowly,

And her eyes were darken'd wholly,

Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.

For ere she reach'd upon the tide

The first house by the water-side,

Singing in her song she died,

The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,

By garden-wall and gallery,

A gleaming shape she floated by,

Dead-pale between the houses high,

Silent into Camelot.

Out upon the wharfs they came,

Knight and burgher, lord and dame,

And round the prow they read her name,

The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? and what is here?

And in the lighted palace near

Died the sound of royal cheer;

And they cross'd themselves for fear,

All the knights at Camelot:

But Lancelot mused a little space;

He said, "She has a lovely face;

God in his mercy lend her grace,

The Lady of Shalott.

... Alfred Lord Tennyson

For Good

I've heard it said

That people come into our lives for a reason

Bringing something we must learn

And we are led

To those who help us most to grow

If we let them...

It well may be

That we will never meet again

In this lifetime

So let me say before we part

So much of me

Is made from what I learned from you

You'll be with me

Like a handprint on my heart

And now whatever way our stories end

I know you have re-written mine

By being my friend...

... Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you

I have been changed for good

... Wicked

Photographs And Memories

Photographs and memories

All the love you gave to me

Somehow it just can't be true

That's all I've left of you

But we sure had a good time

When we started way back when

Morning walks and bedroom talks

Oh how I loved you then

... Photographs And Memories, Jim Croce

If I could save time in a bottle

The first thing that I'd like to do

Is to save every day

Till Eternity passes away

Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever

If words could make wishes come true

I'd save every day like a treasure and then,

Again, I would spend them with you

... Time In A Bottle, Jim Croce

Drifting Further Away

Come make your peace, come find your way

Come lay your wreath at the altar of change

Don't lose your step, don't break the bones

Don't shoulder the burden out there on your own

Cause every word and every turn

Every sign points to your hurt

With every hour you're drifting further away...

... Powderfinger

One Never Reaches Home...

"One never reaches home, but where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time"

"If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us"

"But every man is more than just himself; he also represents the unique, the very special and always significant and remarkable point at which the world's phenomena intersect, only once in this way and never again. That is why every man's story is important, eternal, sacred; that is why every man, as long as he lives and fulfills the will of nature, is wondrous, and worthy of consideration"

"Each man had only one genuine vocation - to find the way to himself. He might end up as a poet or madman, as prophet or criminal - that was not his affair, ultimately it was of no concern. His task was to discover his own destiny - not an arbitrary one - and live it out wholly and resolutely within himself. Everything else was would-be existence, an attempt at evasion, a flight back to the ideals of the masses, conformity and fear of one's own inwardness"

"The things we see are the same things that are within us. There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself. You can be happy that way. But once you know the other interpretation you no longer have the choice of following the crowd. Sinclair, the majority's path is an easy one, ours is difficult"

"I live in my dreams... Other people live in dreams, but not in their own. That's the difference"

... Demian: The Story of Emil Sinclair's Youth, Hermann Hesse

Landslide

I've been afraid of changing

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older and I'm getting older too

Oh yes, I'm getting older too

So, could you take this love, take it down?

Oh, if you climb a mountain and you turn around

If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills

Well, the landslide bring it down

... Stevie Nicks / Fleetwood Mac

Blackbird

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly

Into the light of the dark black night

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly

Into the light of the dark black night

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

... Beatles

The Good Life

Top 15 songs about the "colorful state." Click HERE.

Oh... how I missed thee so

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

Blessings on the hand of women!

Angels guard its strength and grace,

In the palace, cottage, hovel,

Oh, no matter where the place;

Would that never storms assailed it,

Rainbows ever gently curled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy's the tender fountain,

Power may with beauty flow,

Mother's first to guide the streamlets,

From them souls unresting grow--

Grow on for the good or evil,

Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission

Here upon our natal sod!

Keep, oh, keep the young heart open

Always to the breath of God!

All true trophies of the ages

Are from mother-love impearled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!

Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,

And the sacred song is mingled

With the worship in the sky--

Mingles where no tempest darkens,

Rainbows evermore are hurled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

... William Ross Wallace 

Beautiful

I have often asked myself the reason for the sadness

In a world where tears are just a lullaby

If there's any answer, maybe love can end the madness

Maybe not, oh, but we can only try

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face

And show the world all the love in your heart

Then people gonna treat you better

You're gonna find, yes, you will

That you're beautiful as you feel

... Carole King

Always The Love, Always The Hours

"Dear Leonard:

To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face and to know it for what it is.

At last to know it, to love it for what it is, and then, to put it away.

Leonard, always the years between us, always the years.

Always the love.

Always the hours"

... The Hours, adapted from Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

Your Soul Is In Your Keeping Alone

King Baldwin IV: A King may move a man, a father may claim a son, but remember that even when those who move you be Kings, or men of power, your soul is in your keeping alone. When you stand before God, you cannot say, "But I was told by others to do thus." Or that, "Virtue was not convenient at the time." This will not suffice. Remember that.

Godfrey of Ibelin: Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong. That is your oath.

Balian of Ibelin: It has fallen to us, to defend Jerusalem, and we have made our preparations as well as they can be made. None of us took this city from Muslims. No Muslim of the great army now coming against us was born when this city was lost. We fight over an offence we did not give, against those who were not alive to be offended. What is Jerusalem? Your holy places lie over the Jewish temple that the Romans pulled down. The Muslim places of worship lie over yours. Which is more holy? The wall? The Mosque? The Sepulchre? Who has claim? No one has claim. All have claim! We defend this city, not to protect these stones, but the people living within these walls. (Audio)

... Kingdom Of Heaven

Laila And Majnun

"The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.

The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing"

... Mathnawi, Mevlana Rumi

"To see the beauty of Laila, one requires the eyes of Majnun"

"I pass by these walls: the walls of Layla

And I kiss this wall and that wall

It’s not Love of the houses that has taken my heart

But of the One who dwells in those houses"

... Laila And Majnun, Nezami Ganjavi

"Whoever would find a place in that world must tread on the lusts of this world. This world is dust and is perishable. That world is pure and eternal... Commit yourself to love's sanctuary and at once find freedom from your ego. Fly in love as an arrow towards its target. Love loosens the knots of being, love is liberation from the vortex of egotism. In love, every cup of sorrow which bites into the soul gives it new life. Many a draft bitter as poison has become in love delicious... However agonizing the experience, if it is for love it is well"

... Follow Your Heart, JT Coker

Secrets Of Success

When I woke up this morning I asked myself: 

What are some of the secrets of success in life? 

I found the answer right there in my very room:

The fan said : Be cool

The roof said : Aim high

The window said : See the world

The clock said : Every minute is precious

The mirror said : Reflect before you act

The door said : Push hard for your goals

And finally, the carpet said : Kneel down and pray.

... Author Unknown

I Am A Pause

Between going and staying the day wavers,

in love with its own transparency.

The circular afternoon is now a bay

where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,

all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,

rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats

the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall

into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,

watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,

I stay and go: I am a pause.

... Octavio Paz