正念和意见.

现实, 正念和意见.

只是最近我有一个佛教的再度关注, 并已阅读关于禅和内观禅修方法,它让我的现实思考.

据说在佛教教义,了解原因 ‘痛苦’ (只是一切可能导致情绪, 身体和精神上的痛苦), 通过我们的正念和冥想不仅可以过着幸福的生活,而且解除的面纱,以防止我们看到的东西,因为他们真的是.

这是什么意思? 许多年前, 在澳大利亚,我买了一把刀, 我从来没有真正想过很多关于刀,但由的摩洛著名的瑞典刀阅读文章的地方, 关于优钢叶片可以得到尖锐的刀片,如何能敲打成树的叶片和站在手柄上,以及如何在有需要时,摩洛刀不会让你失望, 兰博在我被垂涎三尺. 我刚刚有一个.

多年来,刀已经从家到回家, 要诚实并没有让我下来, 多年来,它一直菜刀和日常使用, 刀片保持锋利的年龄和容易激化需要的时候.

它已经与我在欧洲和澳大利亚的宿营, 虽然腐烂了皮革持有者年前,它是我信赖的刀或!

正念的做法是我请客, 这是很难解释的经验的话,但它是通常我仿佛缺席是一个过滤器,通过体验生活时,在正念的状态观测, 有一个感知清晰,我知道在正念, 是否对我们的扩展狗散步或拍打泥膏. 所以我mindfully洗涤了一天,当我的信任摩洛刀的红色手柄通过香肥皂水和我第一次看到它,因为它确实是, 它是一把刀!

确定你不笑, 当然,它一直是刀, 现实并没有改变,, 是什么改变了第一次 25 多年来,它已不再 ‘我的’ 刀, 它不再是一个表示 ‘兰博’ 在我, 它不再是我的骄傲的事情,因为它的质量, 它是它是什么, 一把刀.

“ ‘我的’ 走了, the ‘幻想求生存’ had gone, the ‘所有权的骄傲’ had gone, the 在216;这是什么刀代表我’ had gone.去了是什么, 一把刀.

这一直是我的第一个洞察了解,面纱是什么,防止我们看到的现实. 抓东西,我思想上理解,但这是我第一次真正的现实意识, 我第一次看到现实没有情感的面纱, 自我, 痛苦, 抓, 没有意见.

这一切都发生在几秒钟的过程,但它是通过抓我自以为是一个非常强大的几秒钟,非常具有象征意义的认识切割刀的教训, 主观自我基于现实.

这让我对象现实思考, 和同时性的讨论,我参与,我在, 其中在我们的世界是客观现实?

我看着在政治, 医药, 法律制度, 时尚, 和愉悦的只有三件事,我们遇到的客观, 所有某种伴随的疼痛, 我们出生, 我们会死去,一切都变了. 事实上,死亡本身是主观的太平间板显着活着的人的死亡证书已被写入, 当然也有是在活体脑死亡, 其中所有的基础上看来,这当然是主观, 但我们最终会消亡,但什么是死亡?

该法是基于合理的怀疑, 好,如果有任何疑问,那么,不能客观, 政治不会存在于客观世界,有将是没有必要的政治意见或讨论.

我带着这些想法,直到出现一个有趣的结论, 在客观世界,我们将不再存在,这种​​形式的分离,相互.

当然,这只是我的主观意见!

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Spring Water giving life to Jorox

 

天气已经阻止我最近工作, 所以我决定带着我的相机周围的村庄Jorox散步. 以前散步,我已经看到了对西班牙猫鼬, 作为作为一个小足球,最近IBEX家庭大蟾蜍, 当然,我看到的最好的景点只有当我已经离开了我的相机背后! 所以,你只会有需要我的话!

At the top of Jorox is this unremarkable hole in the rock covered in a concrete ‘监狱’ 结构. 正如你可以看到它是一个春天, a spring that supplies the whole of Jorox with spring water for drinking and irrigation.

是的,我们喝,! 直出的山, as did the Jorox cave dwellers over 30,000 年前. jorox已发现证据联系起来,从旧石器时代人类生活在这里的许多洞穴, 与剑齿虎和猛犸象清凉洁净的泉水.

后来在人类发展, long after the Sabre Tooth Tiger had disappeared the Muslim Moors drank  this spring water, 和削减的Jorox山坡岩石中的水渠道灌溉后,摩尔人的土地和天主教西班牙被删除, mills were built along the Moorish irrigation canals to capture the power of this spring to mill locally grown grain. 时间在佛朗哥铣粮食在这里的是非法的, 谁使他像一个博物馆的古老家族轧机一个值得骄傲的Jorox前居民告诉我,粮食所带来的高贵的安达卢西亚骡子沿着秘密的轨道,在夜间和碾磨秘密,仿佛它是一种药物.

有这里现在只有约20间房屋, 全年只有两个其他的房子都住在.

今年春天, 的河Jorox源一直支持这里的生活,因为之前的历史和整个人类的历史, 它已经看到物种的来和去, 可能是少数的冰河期,仍流一年四季都给予生活.

在村中心是一个天主教的圣地, 而春天将被忽略,独自留在其丑陋的混凝土监狱的包裹下公路桥亲切倾向于, 没有人去那里的感谢或接受其愈合秘密, 也没有任何以上,但如何不同,它可能已被.

已知最早的巫师无可争议的埋葬 (和延伸最早的无可争议的证据巫师和巫师做法) 可以追溯到旧石器时代早期时代 (C.30,000BP) 在现在的捷克共和国。“ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paleolithic

As I stood next to the spring in the rain I could imagine early humans drinking the spring water, revering this gift from the earth. 仿佛从黑暗的黑社会无处这样的生活永无止境的源泉流出的日光.

历史上的异教徒看到水作为其他世界的门户和智慧和愈合的源泉.

在某种程度上, 布里吉德, the Celtic Goddess associated with healing wells and spring water is a bridge between the Catholic faith and the shaman-ism of pre history. 布里奇特圣是天主教相当于.

二月 1 或二月 2 布里吉德在的盖尔Imbolc节日庆祝时,她的土地带来了春天的第一高潮. 罗马天主教, 东正教基督徒和一些圣公会标记为宴圣布里吉德的一天; 节也被称为烛和纯化的处女“ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brigid

When the Catholic faithful tend our little shrine on Candlemas I will walk on to the spring and stand a while by an unbroken link to humanity’s beginnings. imbolc是一个净化的时间, 我会在泉水洗和打坐什么我想我成长,在未来的一年,我的家人和这个地球.

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Just a funny story about death.

I have a category namedstrange’, this is for life stories, strange or interesting things that have happened to me during my life, this weeks post is one of thosestrangestories.

This is a very true story, all people and places in this story are real so I cannot identify who and where.

To set the scene, I was working for the NHS in O….., living in a converted ambulance, it was Friday morning before a weekend of raving in the wild Welsh hills.

I arrived at work at as usual at 7 am got a coffee, sat down to be informed of the unit’s previous night’s problems and was introduced to a student nurse who was to be training with us for the next couple of days. While the talking continued I could hear some very deep breathing, in fact one could describe it as a loud gasping. I asked the nurse in charge what that noise was and was told it was J, he hadn’t slept well that night, he had just sat up all night in a chair in the lounge.

The hand over continued and so did the noise until I just had to go and check on him, it just didn’t sound very good to me.

Before training as a nurse I had done half of a course on traditional Chinese medicine, the first two years, the years I actually did , were mainly involved with methods of diagnosis, one of which was pulse diagnosis.

I walked into the lounge and there was J asleep, breathing very heavily with long gaps between each breath.

I took his pulse and realised he was dying, I called the nurse in charge and in he came with student nurse.

I told them J was dying and was met with complete disbelief from the nurse in charge and a look of abject fear on the face of the poor student.

He is just tired” said the nurse in charge, “He is dying” I repeated,

No he just breaths like that” replied, a by now, very scared looking nurse in charge.

He is dying” I repeated.

Now part of me wanted to laugh as anyone familiar with the Monty PythonParrot Sketchwill see the funny side to this conversation, but inside I knew what I had to.

J was about to die. What he may or may not have been conscious of at the time I do not know but ignoring the nurse in charge’s conversation I held J in my arms until, telling him it was all OK that he had nothing to fear, the breathing became shallower and shallower until his life spirit left.

Now I describe this moment as I felt it to be, everything that had been J just seemed to leave his earthly body, it felt like I was left holding just some skin and bone.

The skin and bone let out one last gasp, the nurse in charge said “look see he is just sleeping” I stood up and turned to the other two completely clueless as to what they should be doing and took charge of the situation.

J is dead, call the doctor” I said to the frozen nurse in charge and beckoned to the student to help get what was once J into a wheel chair so we could take his body to his room.

The rest of my shift was worked and after having a chat with J’s wife I was allowed to leave early.

I got some sleep, woke up and got some food and when the people I was giving a lift to arrived we set off for Wales in my home.

There is something really cool about being a snail, that is taking one’s home everywhere one goes, finally we arrived at the turn off that took us up high into the welsh hills forestry land, as I parked up I felt like I had earned the weekend of fun that was about to happen.

And so at about 11 pm I self medicated (having prescribed myself an ecstasy tablet) and walked down to where the party was taking place. Needing to urinate I walked over to a bush and began to pee, as I looked up at the stars I thought of J, wondering where he was now and asked him if everything was now OK, as the ecstasy began to take effect I continued to think of the day’s events and this time I allowed myself to laugh at the tragic comedy of myParrot Sketchconversation. And then a realisation of my present situation made me really burst out in loud laughter, I had suddenly realised anyone looking at me would have been watching a guy for twenty minutes or so standing in front of a bush holding his willy babbling to himself and then breaking down in hysterical laughter.

I zipped up and joined the festivities !!

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Life Death and the Spirit World

Two unusual things happened  this week, the first was that I read a book! I rarely read anything, I look, I scan, I take on the general meaning but there is always so much else to do that I almost never actually sit down and take the time to just read , think and enjoy.

The second unusual thing that happened was that my uncle finally succumbed to the tumour in his brain.

The book I read took a humorous look at Paganism, ‘Patchwork of Magicby Julia Day. I have always been achild of nature’, my most spiritual moments have been where nature in it’s antiquity spoke to me and when synchronicity opened up new direction . I noticed that Julia Day’s book was written at about the same time I wrote The Map I would like to include this extract from The Map about a visit to Glastonbury.

As we walked up the snaking path up towards the Tor, through theMists of Avalonmy climbing steps merged into the rhythm being drummed out by a group of dreadlocked travelers huddled in the tower at the top of the Tor, every step took me higher, higher into the swirling mist, back to a Celtic dream-time.

Suddenly we broke through the mist, the Tor was now only about two hundred yards away, bathed in the silvery light of the full moon that had been our guiding light.

I Gazed purposefully, straight at the tower, I did not want to look around me until I had reached the vantage point of the tower, the tower stones amplifying the hypnotic tribal rhythm, calling to the spirit of the earth, a metaphorical mouth to mouth resuscitation, breathing life into mythology.

I reached the tower and then allowed myself to take in the most awe inspiring sight I have ever seen in my life.

The moon was bigger and brighter than I have ever seen it before, the stars seemed to have grown and multiplied in number, I have never seen so many, so clear and all this silvery light shone down on the sea of mist below us that covered all but upper parts of the surrounding hills.

As I stood on the Tor I could feel the magic, the power and the spirit of the earth, I was on the mythological Isle of Avalon, at one with spirit and fable, at one with myself.

I was fortunate enough to be given the experience of the preciousness of life’s experience that night in Glastonbury, and as my family mourns the death of a brother, a husband, a father and an uncle it brings back to me that the real magic in life is in its contact with the spirit world to which we are brought when death is close by, reminding us of what really matters in our lives.

My uncle would not of held the beliefs I speak of above but I hope he doesn’t mind me remembering him through the mist of a Pagan perspective that celebrates the preciousness of the spirit in life and the spirit in  death.

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