25.2.17

Truth is sincerity of fiction – the shock of the new – rather than precision of fact.

24.2.17


Adyashanti, when asked what enlightenment is like, said: It's like going to the best restaurant in town, ordering the most expensive meal on the menu, and the waiter arrives with an empty plate.
"Only by risking the incoherence of identity is connection possible."
We live in, and so have no choice but to be part of, a sick culture in which an education consists of teaching children to overrule their hearts with their heads. Hardly surprising therefore that despite the obscene level of wealth of the middle-class, depression has reached epidemic proportions. As I told my eight year old daughter this morning, when I found her weeping because she thinks she lacks the talent (and meanness) of one of her friends: Listen to your heart, learn to trust it, and it will make you happy.
"Let's face it. We're undone by each other. And if we're not, we're missing something."

23.2.17

"I've taught over 10,000 students in my time, and the only thing I've ever wanted is for them to get their bums in."

John Kells

Because when the bum is in – when the sacrum is directly under the heart – then the heart is always being directed upward, like a fountain. And remember: the bum is in but the tail is out, otherwise the knees, and your sense of humour, will suffer.

"There's always something you missed or something you didn't notice or somehow you got wrong… I don't really have a beginning."
Meditation is spring cleaning the mind. Sifting through your shit, looking at each precious item, seeing it for the turd it is, and asking, "Do I really need to hold onto this or can I safely let it go?"
As far from life as from death.
A friend of mine is in Nepal: "The smell of life is visceral & primal – putrefaction, piss and incense."
"Culture is a sham – a cosmetic painted on life by rich people to conceal its ugliness."

Those injured plaints of imperial dudgeon that the perennially lazy feel entitled to intone.
I remember clearly my first Taiji class with John Kells. His presence – a perfect mix of softness and sobriety – inspired, or rather demanded, a level of attention that I had never previously given anything. My foremost concern, at that first class, was to concentrate hard so that I could recall the work and the words (I didn't know about energy at that point) and practice them when I got home. I came to Taiji to learn something that I could work on, and with, in my own time, that would, unequivocally, help me become a whole person and therefore a better person. And so, my unwholeness, my unwholesomeness, my maladjusted autism worked in my eventual favour because without it that persistent dull ache for transformation, which I had, have, felt, for as long as I remember, would have been the last thing in my fledgling heart.
"Everyone wants to be special, and some people are, but never in the way they think they are."

John Kells

22.2.17

Sensus divinitatis.
When a student reacts violently against something you say, you've touched a nerve, a place they won't look at, and you're on the right track. Just tread gently.