
Life is known only by those who have found a way to be comfortable with change and the unknown. Given the nature of life, there may be no security, but only adventure.
Rachel Naomi Remen
photo Vienna heldenplatz

Life is known only by those who have found a way to be comfortable with change and the unknown. Given the nature of life, there may be no security, but only adventure.
Rachel Naomi Remen
photo Vienna heldenplatz

From the beginning of time,
everyone has mistakenly identified themselves with what they are aware of.
Controlled by their experience of perceived objects,
they lose track of their fundamental deeper mind.
The Surangama Sutra, Mahāyāna Buddhist text, pre 705 AD

Today the Christian Liturgy starts to chant the O Antiphons – aspirations used since the 5th Century in the final days before Christmas and which resonate with deep needs in our humanity,
The first of them wishes that we may grow in wisdom at this time of year around the Winter Solstice, when the days are shorter and nature quietens down, and we can see more clearly the bare elements in our lives. What maters most? In many old traditions, having a wise perspective on what was important in life was greatly treasured. In some ways it is the best gift one could get in these days, leading to a resting of the mind and contentment.
To the mind that is still,
the whole universe surrenders.
Lao Tzu

As already said earlier in Advent, this time of year is good for noticing the restlessness of the human heart and the different ways it seeks to satisfy itself. Like other energies, desire passes through the mind-body, frequently in short bursts and is not permanent. Desire is to be understood and we come to see that we can let go of it.
But most hearts say, I want, I want,
I want, I want. My heart
is more duplicitous,
though no twin as I once thought.
It says, I want, I don’t want, I
want, and then a pause.
It forces me to listen,
and at night it is the infra-red
third eye that remains open
while the other two are sleeping
but refuses to say what it has seen.
It is a constant pestering
in my ears, a caught moth, limping drum,
a child’s fist beating
itself against the bedsprings:
I want, I don’t want.
How can one live with such a heart?
Long ago I gave up singing
to it, it will never be satisfied or lulled.
One night I will say to it:
Heart, be still,
and it will.
Margaret Atwood, The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart

Advent starts today, the period of looking forward to Christmas, but more deeply, it is a good season to look at desire and longing. There is a type of hole at the heart of human subjectivity, which gives rise to a perpetual cause of desire. In traditions, both East and West, it is understood that this desire, this restlessness or emptiness, will never go away. Indeed, it the this emptiness which gives rise to a longing that takes us beyond ourselves. Advertisers try to lure us into the belief that we can make this longing go away, encouraging us to think that once we we get this thing or feeling we will be at rest.
Dear soul, if you were not friends
with the vast nothing inside,
why would you always be casting your net
into it, and waiting so patiently?
Rumi

The last day of the year in the Christian liturgical calendar. Advent and the preparation for Christmas starts tomorrow:
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,
even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now
of grief, and of getting past it;
I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart
pumping hard. I want
to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.
Mary Oliver, Starlings in Winter