Been at B&S's place makin food for 16 people.
Not much time to write about all sorts.
LOTR very friggin long.
Will write more stuff soon.
Here's a couple of Krishanumrti's:
Missed yesterdays post cos of food making n LOTR
As a young boy, he used to sit by himself under a large tree near a pond in which lotuses grew; they were pink and had a strong smell. From the shade of that spacious tree, he would watch the thin green snakes and the chameleons, the frogs and the watersnakes. His brother, with others, would come to take him home. It was a pleasant place under the tree, with the river and the pond. There seemed to be so much space, and in this the tree made its own space. All those birds on telegraph wires, sitting so equally spaced on a quiet evening, make the space for the heavens.
Within the narrow confines of a temple or church, man gives form to the vast movement of space. It is like this everywhere; in the mosque it is held in the graceful lines of words. Love needs great space.
The space that thought creates is measurable and so is limited; cultures and religions are its product. Bu the mind is filled with thought and is made up of thought; its consciousness is the structure of thought, having little space within it. But this space is the movement of time, from here to there, from its centre towards its outer lines of consciousness, narrow or expanding. The space which the centre makes for itself is its own prison. Its relationships are from this narrow space but there must be space to live; that of the mind denies living. Living with the narrow confines of the centre is strife, pain and sorrow and that is not living.
The space, the distance between you and the tree, is the word, knowledge which is time. Time is the observer who makes the distance between himself and the trees, between himself and what is. Without the observer, distance ceases. Identification with the trees, with another or wit ha formula, is the action of thought in its desire for protection, security. Distance is from one point to another and to reach that point time is necessary; distance only exists where there is direction, inward or outward. The observer makes a separation,a distance between himself and what is; from this grows conflict and sorrow. The transformation of what is takes place only when there is no separation, no time , between the seer and the seen. Love has no distance.
The brother died and there was no movement in any direction away from sorrow. This non-movement is the ending of time. Man lives is boxes with drawers, acres of them and they have no space; they are violent, brutal, aggressive and mischievous; they separate and destroy each other. The river is the earth and the earth is the river; each cannot exist without the other.
There are no ends to words but communication is verbal and non-verbal. The hearing of the word is one thing and the hearing of no word is another; the one is irrelevant, superficial, leading ti inaction; the other is non-fragmentary action, the flowering of goodness. Words have given beautiful walls but no space. Remembrance, imagination, are the pain of pleasure, and love is not pleasure.
(forgive any typos.. In a hurry to get back t LOTR!)
lots of love