June 10th, 2012

Daily Tao - 29

Want to take over the world?
Think again.
The world's a holy place.
You can't just fuck around with it.
Those who try to change it destroy it.
Those who try to possess it lose it.

With Tao, you push forward,
or maybe you stay behind.
Sometimes you push yourself,
other times you rest.
Sometimes you're strong,
sometimes you're weak.
Sometimes you're up,
and sometimes you're down.

A Master lives simply,
avoiding extravagance and excess.

The Beatrice Tao.
Daily Tao - 29

Nature Mysticism.

Much thanks to pilgrimmage

The heavens declare the glory of God
  and the firmament show his handiwork.

One day tells its tale to another,
  and one night imparts knowledge to another.

Although they have no words or language,
  and their voice s are not heard,

Their sound has gone out into all lands
  and their message to the ends of the world.

-- Psalm 19,1979 Book of Common Prayer

Minds which are separated pretend to blend in one another's language.  The marriage of souls in concepts is mostly an illusion.  Thoughts which travel outward bring back reports from You from outward things, but a dialogue with You, uttered through the world, always ends by being a dialogue with my own reflection in the stream of time.  With You there is no dialogue, unless You choose a mountain, circle it with cloud and print Your words in fire upon the mind of Moses.  What was delivered to Moses on tablets of stone, as the fruits of lightning and thunder, is now more thoroughly born in our souls as quietly as the breath of our own being.

-- Thomas Merton, Dialogues with Silence

"I am discovering how exceedingly wise and faithful the birds are.  At three in the morning, (In fact, today I discovered that even at 2:30 in the morning) before the first ray of the new day's Sun has pierced the darkness with an azure hope, the birds sing out the Day's song  with a faithful certainty.  Their high pitches pierce the sky when as yet no light has come to merit their loyal call.  Likewise, the deep coos of the watchful owl do not stop until near 7am.  He keeps his vigil until the Sun is well established, as though calling it forth and fanning its fledgling heat into a living Flame by his faithfulness alone.

"They have neither words nor language, and their sounds wash mystical truths over me, incomprehensible to a grasping mind that would corrupt them like possessions, analytics, or proofs.  Yet, in those wee hours my heart basks in their wisdom as surely as its own beat.  My soul keeps watchful hope in a certainty beyond any manner of "possibility" just as surely as my lungs catch their next breath to sustain me in Life."  -- Pilgrimmage.

mysticism, nature
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