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The Eyes of My Eyes – are Open

We meet in high places.

Will Pegg. The poem is an offering of thanks and gratitude to Wills friends, family and fellow 12 Steppers, as well as fellow life travelers. The poem comes at the beginning of a long post on Facebook by a man who is facing death. Very soon. He is saying goodby. godde is his word.

i thank You godde for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is YES

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

e.e. cummings
1894-1962

Unimaginable You, the infinite ungraspable! Indeed. A poem; a prayer echoing in the hallways of all existence, where the idea of a separate self dissolves. Sir Edwin Arnold in The Light of Asia says it seeking nothing, he gains all; foregoing self, the universe grows “I.” What is there to say? Well lots as it turns out. We can imagine a Bodhisattva as superhuman, but watch out when they blaze in! However no, a Bodhisattva, this chap Will, is no super human. He’s every bit human with the human frailty that comes with this state. Countless people have benefitted from his living his life and countless people have taught him too. Humility is the watch word.

I met Will in a cafe in Victoria, Canada July before last. In the way that it can happen between people our eyes met, and a deep spiritual connection comes about, well past words or understanding. So it was and so it will be. Here I sit in England, Northumberland. Merit and meditations winging their way to a far off bedside. Join me why not.

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Natural Great Peace

Peace in The Way

Rest in Natural Great Peace,
this exhausted mind.
Beaten helpless by karma and thought,
like the relentless fury of the pounding waves,
in the Infinite Ocean of Samsara.
Rest in Natural Peace.

Taken from Sorrow Mountain
I have not read this book however a correspondent recommended it to me. So I’ll explore it further. She is a light of strength in adversity and no mistake. I was thinking about what I am for her since she already has fundamentally all she needs to move through this testing time. This is what I wrote to her:

I think of myself as a person who stands on the touch-line of the game of life and at half time, or whenever, I’ll run on with Orange slices! So when you are in need drop me a line and I will remind you of your fundamental…..can’t find a word however Nature as Buddha will do for now. We can all do with an Orange slice from time to time being human and frail, yet strong.

The merit of this post is offered for all those known and unknown who are currently sitting with and facing death. It’s not a mistake.

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Wishing for a Fig in Winter

Dear Jade Readers,
Thank you for returning to read here. Yes, I have been away from writing posts regularly for some considerable time. There has been a reason and it might well be to do with wishing for a fig in winter, so to speak. Let my intention be to open my hands and write my thoughts. It is about love basically.
Bows, Mugo
Epictetus — a proponent of the wonderful practice of self-scrutiny applied with kindness — proceeds to offer a meditation on loosening the grip of grief in parting permanently from someone we have loved:

When you are delighted with anything, be delighted as with a thing which is not one of those which cannot be taken away, but as something of such a kind, as an earthen pot is, or a glass cup, that, when it has been broken, you may remember what it was and may not be troubled… What you love is nothing of your own: it has been given to you for the present, not that it should not be taken from you, nor has it been given to you for all time, but as a fig is given to you or a bunch of grapes at the appointed season of the year. But if you wish for these things in winter, you are a fool. So if you wish for your son or friend when it is not allowed to you, you must know that you are wishing for a fig in winter.

Find more on surviving heartbreak.

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Into Morecambe Bay

Here is the River Bela shortly joined by the River Kent which empty into Morecambe Bay. The heavy rain has been a blessing, a joy to watch the fields grow green again. Ever renewing, we humans too. Gratitude is the response.

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Goodnight Lakeland Fells

The Deer in the park
Sheep and lambs
All growing
Along with the trees.

Nothing lacking.

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