Monday, 20 February 2012

Howdy folks!

Well, I was gonna post most of this yesterday but my brand new, week old computer was freakin out on me. Just froze 3 or 4 times! So in desperation n big gloom I decided to leave it till tomorrow (today..) n hope it won't be getting up to the same mischief..

So here goes..

First of all, Ems left for far away paradise tday so it's a bit of a droopy faced day.. 

(man! check out those cats in the band!=) How bloody cool are those dudes eh?! Brilliant=) that kind of took the droop off my face for a bit..) that's pretty much how it is when she's gone (n always gone too long..) 

so this is where yesterday's post began.. 

Listenin to this in the background so I'll start with that:

(actual song starts at about 0.56...) 

Brilliant stuff!=) back in good ol' 87=) 

On to other stuff..
Earlier tday I was pondering what it would be like if nature ( n us human beasts as part of that nature..) were in complete balance & order? Imagine that! Everything supporting each other and working in total co-operation. The way it is supposed to.

N you think about dudes like these & what they understood:

And at times I feel like fleeing to a place like this:

Digging them happy mad monks up in the mountains, learning some gung fu, meditating, long walks in the forests n mountains n valleys.. 

(bat monks..=) )

and don't get me wrong! I'm in a pretty good mood n all! Not in one of those gloomy Eeyore moods. I love the world n I dig maybe even too many things.. N at times I struggle with so much stuff, like leading a healthy, all good n pure life, meditating n doin yoga n studying all things natural and healthy and being great nature knower n healer n crazy wizard n then on the other hand, just letting go n do all the sort of stuff that I used to, sex n drugs n rock n roll type things, absolutely living life to the fullest, on the road, all guns blazing, stayin up all night n talking n smoking n dreaming n coming up with mad ideas n hangin out with friends n doin all sorts, goin wherever the wind blows you.. 
And of course I think why couldn't I lead a perfectly healthy life n still live life to the fullest, or even more fullest in fact cos you wouldn't spend so much time being hungover n feeling like shit.. So I'm trying t find my way in all this.. N sometimes I wonder am I where I'm supposed to be? Am I leading the life that I should? But then I think that there's no point in any of that "cool" n unhealthy stuff. N how could I ever go back to that life when I knew how bad all that stuff really is.. I'll just have to be a light onto myself n walk that road tho it is a bit harder n more trying.. 

So bit of a babbling session there for ya.. 

Let's give "the floor" t ol Krishnamurti:

Has consciousness any depth or only a surface fluttering? Thought can imagine its depth, can assert that it has depth or only consider the surface ripples. Has thought itself any depth at all? 
Consciousness is made up of its content; its content is its entire frontier. Thought is the activity of the outer and in certain languages thought means the outside. The importance that is given to the hidden layers of consciousness is still on the surface, without any depths. Thought can give itself a centre, as the ego, the "me", and that centre has no depth at all; words, however cunningly and subtly put together, are not profound. The "me" is a fabrication of thought in word and in identification; the "me", seeking depth in action, in existence, has no meaning at all; all its attempts to establish depth in relationship end in the multiplications of its own images whose shadows it considered are deep. The activities of thought have no depth; its pleasures, its fears, its sorrows are on the surface. The very word surface indicates that there is something below, a great volume of water or very shallow. A shallow or deep mind are the words of thought and thought in itself is superficial. The volume behind thought is experience, knowledge, memory, things that are gone only to be recalled, to be or not to be acted upon. 
  Is there depth to life, to existence at all? Is all relationship shallow? Can thought ever discover it? Thought is the only instrument man has cultivated and sharpened, and when that's denied as a means to the understanding of depth in life, then the mind seeks other means. To lead a shallow life soon becomes wearying, boring, meaningless and from this arises the constant pursuit of pleasure, fears, conflict and violence. To see the fragments that thought has brought about and their activity, as a whole, is the ending of thought. Perception of the whole is only possible when the observer, who is one of the fragments of thought, is not active. Then action is relationship and never leads to conflict and sorrow. 
  Only silence has depth, as love. Silence is not the movement of thought nor is love. Then only the words, deep and shallow, lose their meaning. There is no measurement to love nor to silence. What's measurable is thought and time; thought is time. Measure is necessary but when thought carries it into action and relationship, then mischief and disorder begin. Order is not measurable, only disorder is. 


Romanticism and sentimentality were safely locked up in the cities, and here deep in the country, with trees, meadows and streams, there was beauty and delight. There's a road that goes through the woods, and dappled shadows and every leaf holds that beauty, every dying leaf and blade of grass. Beauty is not a word, an emotional response; it is not soft, to be twisted and moulded by thought. When beauty is there, every movement and action in every form of relationship is whole, sane and holy. When that beauty, love, doesn't exist, the world goes mad. 
  On the small screen the preacher, with carefully cultivated gesture and word, was saying that he knew his saviour, the only saviour, was living; if he was not living, there would be no hope for the world. The aggressive thrust of his arm drove away any doubt, any enquiry, for he knew and you must stand up for what he knew, for his knowledge is your knowledge, your conviction. The calculated movement of his arms and the driven word were substance and encouragement to his audience, which was there with its mouth open, both young and old, spellbound and worshipping the image of their mind. A war had just begun and neither the preacher nor his large audience cared, for wars must go on and besides it is part of our culture.
  On that screen, a little later, there was shown what the scientists were doing, their marvelous inventions, their extraordinary spas control, the world of tomorrow, the new complex machines; the explanations of how cells are formed, the experiments that are being made on animals, on worms and flies. The study of the behavior of animals was carefully and amusingly explained. With this study the professors could better understand human behavior. The remains of an ancient culture were explained; the excavations, the vases, the carefully preserved mosaics and the crumbling walls; the wonderful world of the past, its temples, its glories. Many, many volumes have been written about the riches, the paintings, the cruelties and the greatness of the past, their kings and their slaves. 
  A little later there was shown the actual war that was raging in the desert and among the green hills, the enormous tanks and the low-flying jets., the noise and the calculated slaughter; and the politicians talking about peace but encouraging war in every land. The crying women were shown and the desperately wounded, the children waving flags and the priests intoning blessings. 
  The tears of mankind have not washed away man's desire to kill. No religion has stopped war; all of them, on the contrary, have encouraged it, blessed the weapons of war; they have divided the people. Governments are isolated and cherish their insularity. The scientists are supported by governments. The preacher is lost in his words and images. 
  You will cry, but educate your children to kill and be killed. You accept it as the way of life; your commitment is to your own security; it is your god and your sorrow. You care for your children so carefully, so generously, but then you are so enthusiastically willing them to be killed. They showed on the screen baby seals, with enormous eyes, being killed. 
  The function of culture is to transform man totally.


There is in Sanskrit a long prayer to peace. It was written many, many centuries ago by someone to whom peace was an absolute necessity, and perhaps his daily life had its roots in that. It was written before the creeping poison of nationalism, the immortality of the power of money and the insistence on worldliness that industrialism has brought about. The prayer is to enduring peace: May there be peace among the gods, in heaven and among the stars; may there be peace on earth, among men and four-footed animals; may we not hurt each other; may we be generous to each other; may we have that intelligence with will guide our life and action; may there be peace in our prayer, on our lips and in our hearts.
  There is no mention of individuality in this peace; that came much later. There is only ourselves - our peace, our intelligence, our knowledge, our enlightenment. The sound of Sanskrit chants seems to have a strange effect. In a temple, about fifty priests were chanting in Sanskrit and the very walls seemed to be vibrating. 
  Peace is not an interval between the ending and beginning of conflict, of pain and of sorrow. No government can bring peace; its peace is of corrupt hand decay; the orderly rule of a people breeds degeneration for it is not concerned with all the people of the earth. Tyrannies can never hold peace for they destroy freedom: peace and freedom go together. To kill another for pace is the idiocy of ideologies. You cannot buy peace; it is not the invention of the intellect; it is not to be purchased through prayer, though bargaining. It is not in any holy building, in any book, in any person. No one can lead you to it, no guru, no priest, no symbol. 
  In meditation it is. Meditation itself is the movement of peace. It is not an end to be found; it is not put together by thought or word. The action of meditation is intelligence. Mediation is none of those things as you have been taught or experienced. The putting away of what you have learnt or experienced is meditation. The freedom of the experiencer is meditation. When there is no peace in relationship, there is no peace in meditation; it is an escape into illusion and fanciful dreams. It cannot be demonstrated or described. You are no judge of peace. You will be aware of it, if it is there, through the activities of your daily life, the order, the virus of your life. 

There you go, a good bit of Krishnamurti! =)

It's pretty late n I'd quite like to finish Howl's Moving Castle
(it's brilliant!)

Be well!

Lotsa love!


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