The Goddess Kali
Philadelphia Museum of Art
Having a cheeky ice cream with @finnharries (Taken with Instagram)
Happy Janmashtami!!!! The anniversary of the blessed day our divine Lord, Sri Krishna, was born!
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Hare Rama Hare Rama
Rama Rama Hare Hare
My teacher often likens meditation practice to a river flowing through our life. In the early stages, like a mountain spring, our practice is fleeting and undeveloped. There may be a fair few leaps and crashes before we settle into a more regular rhythm. Little by little our practice continues to grow and mature until eventually it becomes like a vast river, attracting everything else to it, no longer a small trickle in our life, but the most compelling force of it. The river may still encounter obstacles, but they are of little consequence. It will simply flow over or around them, having developed a smooth, calm, but unstoppable momentum.
Photo by Nigel Killeen.
hahahaha heck yess I love your blog!
15 Jun 2012 / 1 note
The truth of God is being told at every moment, by everything.
If it seems a lie, it is not a lie, but a half told truth not yet realized. (it seems to be that the fear of lies is fertile ground for lying)
A rich man happy in his riches is a half told truth:
the honest story of man’s search for meaning, his temporary belief in
his present comfort, his many beautiful things,
the certain and coming erosion of that joy, and
his necessary movement to find new happiness, or certain misery.
Sometimes that movement is jumping deeper into the half told story:
more things, more riches will appease the relative boredom of purpose
that comes with achievement…
but again, it is the first half of the story, the repetition of an exposition already told.
It is God sewing into us an insatiable desire for meaning, for true mingling-belonging in the universe that cannot be owned, but only belonged to. And the hunger to own is just the bastardized craving of being one-with. How the rancher, when he owns the land, feels it a part of him, and extension of his arms.
I see man, made in the image of God, bastardizing his making with lies. Speaking half truth or poison in an attempt to create reality in the mind of another. But even if a man is doing so, squandering his birthright of creation… the Lord of truth is righting his wrong with nothing less than the Universe and its ever-present working.
I see God telling the truth in everything.
Each day dies at dark and mourns until it is reborn again in blinding sharp white glory sunrise.
Everyday we must die to our self and believe the night lasts only so long as to reflect
on our death, and then believe in the coming sun.
The seasons also tell us of this true cycle of spirit.
The tides tell us of this true cycle of spirit.
The stages of human life and aging tell us of this cycle of spirit.
And the sun, what a story of God:
It is the source of all life,
It is the marker of day and the opposite of night.
If you abuse it, if you get too close it will kill you.
If you stare at it too long, without reverence or bowing your head,
you will go blind.
How obvious it must have been to ancient people to worship the sun.
And the truth continues: if you try to find energy from other sources,
like oil and your own toil, you will some day run out…
and you will surely destroy the planet and the place you call home. Maybe not today,
but this is a half told story.
I hesitated writing this for fear of controversy or tiring debate with distant relationships, but I believe a man of character would not have hesitated, so here I am compelled and convicted.
I’ve decided to start a bible study for gay men in their 20’s and early 30’s who are interested in…