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Cytat
Do celu tam się wysiada. Lec Stanisław Jerzy (pierw. de Tusch-Letz, 1909-1966)
A bogowie grają w kości i nie pytają wcale czy chcesz przyłączyć się do gry (. . . ) Bogowie kpią sobie z twojego poukładanego życia (. . . ) nie przejmują się zbytnio ani naszymi planami na przyszłość ani oczekiwaniami. Gdzieś we wszechświecie rzucają kości i przypadkiem wypada twoja kolej. I odtąd zwyciężyć lub przegrać - to tylko kwestia szczęścia. Borys Pasternak
Idąc po kurzych jajach nie podskakuj. Przysłowie szkockie
I Herkules nie poradzi przeciwko wielu.
Dialog półinteligentów równa się monologowi ćwierćinteligenta. Stanisław Jerzy Lec (pierw. de Tusch - Letz, 1909-1966)
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.In our psychotherapeutic and Zen practice, all we need do is enjoy linking the discrete steps into a spirited dance, enjoy lifting our voices in the delight ofconcerted effort. FOR FRAN TRIBEDeath is not a stranger.She needs no visa to enter,Is her own passport to return home.She does not even need a name for us to recognize her.Like a mother we must rail against(insisting we must break from her to be our precious selves apart,still indebted for our birth,for her dark ontogenetic soil)she smiles on our discomfort at her embrace,settles for a chaste kiss on the cheek.Knowing more than weShe needs no ornament,Her face holds no particular expressionNot because she s cold or disapproving,but because she s simply a mirror that strips us of our masksshe pierces our heartteaches us another way to greet all life with equal love.Her sharp tongue may goad us to journey in strange landsBut like a mother she comforts our hurtsEven when we are outraged at the painconstantly offers us her strong hands and soft lap.Beyond all our efforts to comprehend herBeyond all our efforts to bargain and come to termsShe does not bide her time nor plan nor remembershe does not come for us at the endbut is always there for us,sufficiently herself.A frightening refuge an effortless challengereminding us our home is always herethe yeasty smell of baking breadthe mysterious solidity of black, slick iceplaying with her husband the sun to jointly engender a permanent windblowing over the whole worldmaking the sea restlesssmoothing the land s uneven hills.Like a mother death takes our fear of disappearancePlays peek-a-boo with our frightGreets our startled laughter with welcome, sparkling eyes. Chapter 7Actualizing the Fundamental Point1251As all things are buddha-dharma, there is delusion and realization, practice, and birth anddeath, and there are buddhas and sentient beings.Each of us belongs.We are always, every moment, completely and uniquely ourselves:laughing or crying, sleeping or alert, we have ten fingers and ten toes, each with its unique bonesand muscles, each pointing in a slightly different direction.Clients and therapists sit in differentchairs and face myriad things from varied angles.Everything, everyone is a teacher, anapprentice, a song.Each instant we present ourselves to the world and the world presents itself tous in infinite variety.As the myriad things are without an abiding self, there is no delusion, no realization, nobuddha, no sentient beings, no birth and death.Insert a ring into some soapy water, blow on it, and a bubble appears: sunlight forms aglistening rainbow on the bubble s thin surface.Our lives are like this.Rainbows cannot be grasped; they move along with us.In rainbows there is no color separatefrom sunlight and mist, no sunlight and mist separate from color.We are rainbows dependent onspecial conditions in order to be ourselves: we have no existence separate from those definingconditions, which are constantly changing.We divide the rainbow by naming its colors, but redyellow orange green blue indigo violet don t exist: these are colorful labels, not colors themselves.We search for our self in our component colors.We think our thoughts are important.Wefeel our feelings are ourselves.We sense the solidity of our sensations.We experience the urgencyof our urges, and cling to the awareness of being conscious.Each of these fragments wants toassert the primacy of its being; each lays claim to being the core of our existence.But none of these abides as a constant fundament.Thoughts are just thoughts.Feelings arejust feelings.Sensations are just sensations.Impulses are just impulses.Consciousness is justconsciousness.Each arises in response to something which is arising in response to somethingelse.Each appears in concert with all the others, dancing with each other and the world,depending on its surroundings to give it shape.We and the world arise together, linked by mutual need and love: we cannot exist alone
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