Sonny Rollins on Jazz, on life...

 

"...We don't like cookie cutter everything exactly the same way.  We're about creation, thinking things out at the moment, like life is.  Life changes every minute.  A different sunset every night.  That's what Jazz is about."  - Jazz Saxaphonist, Sonny Rollins, NPR interiew

 

 

Nonviolence 25 Lessons from the History of a Dangerous Idea Written by Mark Kurlansky Foreword by Dalai Lama          ABOUT THIS BOOK In this timely, highly original, and controversial narrative, New York Times bestselling author Mark Kurlansky discusses nonviolence as a distinct entity, a course of action, rather than a mere state of mind. Nonviolence can and should be a technique for overcoming social injustice and ending wars, he asserts, which is why it is the preferred method of those who speak truth to power. Nonviolence is a sweeping yet concise history that moves from ancient Hindu times to present-day conflicts raging in the Middle East and elsewhere. Kurlansky also brings into focus just why nonviolence is a “dangerous” idea, and asks such provocative questions as: Is there such a thing as a “just war”? Could nonviolence have worked against even the most evil regimes in history? Kurlansky draws from history twenty-five provocative lessons on the subject that we can use to effect change today. He shows how, time and again, violence is used to suppress nonviolence and its practitioners–Gandhi and Martin Luther King, for example; that the stated deterrence value of standing national armies and huge weapons arsenals is, at best, negligible; and, encouragingly, that much of the hard work necessary to begin a movement to end war is already complete. It simply needs to be embraced and accelerated. Engaging, scholarly, and brilliantly reasoned, Nonviolence is a work that compels readers to look at history in an entirely new way. This is not just a manifesto for our times but a trailblazing book whose time has come. (From Random House Modern Library).

The Buddha and the Terrorist

Written by Satish Kumar

 

Exploring around our country’s shipping ports and industrial yards, where the accumulated detritus of our consumption is exposed to view like eroded layers in the Grand Canyon, I find evidence of a slow-motion apocalypse in progress. I am appalled by these scenes, and yet also drawn into them with awe and fascination. The immense scale of our consumption can appear desolate, macabre, oddly comical and ironic, and even darkly beautiful; for me its consistent feature is a staggering complexity.

The pervasiveness of our consumerism holds a seductive kind of mob mentality. Collectively we are committing a vast and unsustainable act of taking, but we each are anonymous and no one is in charge or accountable for the consequences. I fear that in this process we are doing irreparable harm to our planet and to our individual spirits.

As an American consumer myself, I am in no position to finger wag; but I do know that when we reflect on a difficult question in the absence of an answer, our attention can turn inward, and in that space may exist the possibility of some evolution of thought or action. So my hope is that these photographs can serve as portals to a kind of cultural self-inquiry. It may not be the most comfortable terrain, but I have heard it said that in risking self-awareness, at least we know that we are awake.

~cj  (Chris Jordan's statement regarding this series of photos on his website)

 

 

 

 

Check out these photos by photographer Chris Jordan.  This one is called "Cell Phones #2, Atlanta, 2005

From The War of Art by Steven Pressfield:

The artist and the fundamentalist both confront the same issue, the mystery of their existence as individuals. Each asks the same questions: Who am I? Why am I here? What is the meaning of life?

Read the rest of this excellent post with this link.

Tomorrow...Saturday, April 14th...there will be events and actions in all 50 states urging action on global warming.  Check out the Step It Up 2007 website for local events and info about the campaign itself.

When I was first falling in love with yoga, I tried to do it right.  I was often confused by the different concepts of "right" that I came across from teacher to teacher, from tradition to tradition.  Who was I to question?  What did I know?

 

I'd come home from a workshop and try to re-arrange my practice to fit what I "should" be doing.  "You should be doing 20 minute headstands".  "You should never practice on carpet." (That one had me trying to practice in the kitchen with two big dogs wandering in and out...it didn't last long). 

 

I was even worried about being unfaithful.  It took me months to tell my Kundalini teacher I was practicing Hatha yoga again. (I worried for nothing). 

 

Finally some lovely teachers I met along the path taught me to listen intently in my practice, to not look to them for answers but to my own direct experience. Now my love affair with yoga has mellowed in to a deep and lasting relationship.  We accept each other unconditionally most of the time.   After years of wondering how my teachers knew all the stuff they seemed to know I finally discovered the secret.  They did the practice.  They got on their mats and did their practice...not mechanically or with a sense of duty...but with a sense of curiousity, patience, courage and wonder. My practice is no longer abstract and conceptual but deeply intimate.  I still read and study with others but at some point I put down the book, I leave the workshop and I step back onto the mat and into life.

 

 

As a bee seeks nectar
from all kinds of flowers
seek teachings everywhere;
like a deer that finds
a quiet place to graze
seek seclusion to digest all you have gathered.
Like a madman,
beyond all limits, go wherever you please;
and live like a lion,
completely free of all fear.

-- tantra of dzogchen