“All nature has a feeling: woods, fields, brooks
Are life eternal: and in silence they
Speak happiness beyond the reach of books;
There’s nothing mortal in them; their decay
Is the green life of change; to pass away
And come again in blooms revivified.
Its birth was heaven, eternal in its stay,
And with the sun and moon shall still abide
Beneath their day and night
and heaven wide.”
–John Clare, All Nature Has A Feeling
Today the screaming and the howling of winter winds demands a way into the house. The wind chimes dance and sing in tinkling abandon, oblivious to the rage of the wind, unable to convert them, nor to distract them from their joy. Perfect union, not one without the other. Today warmth, the touch of soft clean sheets and gentle conforming heft of blankets round my body nestled in with cup and sip and swallow taste of glorious tea and books full of dross and treasure, married like the winds. Luxuria.
I am having a very pleasing morning. One of the reasons for this pleasure is that so far, things are going the way I wish them to go, I feel in control. (Ha, I haven’t missed the defect in my character, but since it is having a positive effect upon my day…I shall choose to address it later 😛 )
I was busy being thankful for having interesting photographs to view with my morning tea. I was noticing that I had not had an inkling of interest in viewing any news, AND that my morning isn’t poo like it has been, with said viewing! I was praying that this felt like the most excellent reprieve.
…it began to rain, pour down rain!
Glorious, musical, cleansing, perfection of form, falling to the ground, clinging to surfaces, reflecting life!!!
“TO A BUTTERFLY
I’VE watched you now a full half-hour;
Self-poised upon that yellow flower
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!–not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!
This plot of orchard-ground is ours; 10
My trees they are, my Sister’s flowers;
Here rest your wings when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We’ll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days, when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now. 1801.”
“One of the most difficult things to learn is that mindfulness is not dependent on any emotional or mental state. We have certain images of meditation. Meditation is something done in quiet caves by tranquil people who move slowly. Those are training conditions. They are set up to foster concentration and to learn the skill of mindfulness. Once you have learned that skill, however, you can dispense with the training restrictions, and you should. You don’t need to move at a snail’s pace to be mindful. You don’t even need to be calm. You can be mindful while solving problems in intensive calculus. You can be mindful in the middle of a football scrimmage. You can even be mindful in the midst of a raging fury.”
Mindfulness Versus Concentration
– Henepola Gunaratana
Mindfulness in Plain English
Mindfulness in Plain English