Morning Trip (130)

“The problem is that most people feel cozy enough in samsura. They do not really have the genuine aspiration to go beyond samsura; they just want samsura to be a little better. It is quite interesting that “samsura” became the name of a perfume. And it is like that. It seduces us into thinking that it is okay: samsura is not so bad; it smells nice! The underlying motivation to go beyond samsura is very rare, even for people who go to Dharma centers. There are many people who learn to meditate and so forth, but with the underlying motive that they hope to make themselves feel better. And if it ends up making them feel worse, instead of realizing that this may be a good sign, they think there is something wrong with Dharma. We are always looking for a way to make ourselves comfortable in the prison house. We might think that if we get the cell wall painted a pretty shade of pale green, and put in a few pictures, it won’t be a prison anymore.”

–Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo, Into the Heart of Life

One Shoot Sunday and Noticing–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

Good Morning! It’s One Shoot Sunday again! The following is quoted to attribute the photographer and the site that supports and encourages The Poetry Challenge of One Shoot Sunday.

“Sunday Photography Interview: Rob Hanson & Poetry Challenge (Part 1)

Rob Hanson is a photographer dedicated to the art of HDR. This North Carolina photographer has moved through a number of mediums over the years, but always with a strong desire to make his images and his work as perfect as possible. Constantly on the lookout for new techniques and technologies to explore, he doesn’t shy away from the uniqueness of the world—he expresses it in his colorful work. Find out more in the first of this two-part interview…

~Chris Galford

One Shoot Sunday Challenge Time!

"Purple Phase"--by Rob Hanson

Noticing
Smooth sheets caressing naked calves and feet

The soft grunted intake of air

Upon bumping a familiar round belly

A sigh and change of position

To spoon one back into sleep

Hands on breast and thigh

Soft sleep warmed lips brushing fur

Smiling

Relaxing into

Familiarity

Significant non-quickening

Careful languishing sighs

Sheer curtains move

As always they move

In winter

From blowing heat.

A door creaks open

Something wanders in

Stares intently,

Observer of a chrysalis

Eyes rub

Feet flex

Toes wriggle

Sheets move

Feet hit the floor

Born again

Noticing

–by elisabeth connelley