To listen to the soul is to stop fighting with life – to stop fighting when things fall apart, when they don’t go our way, when we get sick, when we are betrayed or mistreated or misunderstood. To listen to the soul is to slow down, to feel deeply, to see ourselves clearly, to surrender to discomfort and uncertainty, and to wait.
Elizabeth Lesser, Broken Open
Faith is hope in the unseen. Often we cannot see the results of the efforts we are putting in …
Even if the Hour of Resurrection comes up,
and one of you is holding a sapling in your hand….
finish planting it.
The Prophet Mohammed
Just look around you and you will see that the world never ceases to churn out more and more of the same thing, and that the result is unremitting pain and unbearable suffering. It’s no surprise, then, that the masters have pointed out, that to maintain mindfulness for as long as it takes to drink a cup of tea accumulates more merit than years of practicing generosity, discipline, and asceticism.
Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse
The person who makes all cares into one care
– the care for simply staying present –
will be cared for by that presence which is creative love
Not an image that I had heard before, but the ideas behind it are quite useful:
The practice of “remaining like a log ” is based on refraining, not repressing. When you realize you’re thinking, just acknowledge that. Then turn your attention to your breath flowing in and out, to your body, to the immediacy of your experience. Doing this allows you to be present and alert, and thoughts have a chance to calm down.
With this practice, it can be helpful to gently breathe in and out with the restlessness of the energy. This is a major support for learning to stay present. Basic wakefulness is right here, if we can just relax. Our situation is fundamentally fluid, unbiased, and free, and we can tune into this at any time. When we practice “remaining like a log, ” we allow for this opportunity.
Pema Chodron, No Time to Lose: A Timely Guide to the Way of the Bodhisattva
We want the spring to come and the winter to pass.
We want whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss – we want more and more and then more of it.
But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass, say, the window of the corner video store, and I’m gripped by a cherishing so deep for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I’m speechless:
I am living…
Marie Howe, American poet, What the Living Do
With thanks to allchannels.blogspot.com