“All other spiritual teachings are in vain if we cannot love. Even the most exalted states and the most exceptional spiritual accomplishments are unimportant if we cannot be happy in the most basic and ordinary ways, if, with our hearts, we cannot touch one another and the life we have been given.” Jack Kornfield
“Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.” Carl Sagan
“When you are intimately aware of your own pain you recognise the pain in others, regardless of the mask it wears…anger, pride, fear…..you don’t hold anything against them because you know that underneath they are suffering, just as you have…and do. Let them be. Give them space. Recognise that you can’t change them. You can only allow the space for change to happen. Remain open. Welcome them into your peace over and over again. Give no thought to any words that came out of their mouths that were meant to hurt. That is the pain speaking. If you translate what is said through your heart and not your head, you can clearly see that all anyone asks of you, ever, is love.” Unknown
I’m sorry but I struggle to believe that the same government who allows the food companies to put all those chemical additives into our food, allows fracking to continue, who allow big pharma to experiment on us with unproven drugs, who added flouride to our water, who thinks it is a good idea to have genetically engineered foods, is now wanting to force people to have adult vaccines . . . . because they are concerned about our health.
Bill Cosby – latest in the groups of “wholesome” entertainers that families welcomed into their homes and enjoyed for years, oblivious to the reality. Like others before, he not only denied the rumours of his sexual abuse, he attacked and belittled the victims encouraging die hard fans to turn against them and victimize them even further.
The fear of not being believed is the biggest barrier for many victims of sexual abuse. Time does no-one any healing favours here. It bolsters the idea for the perpetrator that they can act without any real consequences and it furthers the idea for the victims that they don’t matter. Justice is not just about law, it is often necessary to facilitate, or even begin, the process of healing.
I would like to single out Janice Dickinson among Bill Crosby’s victims. Who has not watched her over the years, with her out of control and often inappropriate behaviour and her eventual stint with Dr. Drew in rehab and not realized there is something really wrong with this woman? When we see people who act out like she did, we tend to discount them as people. We no longer seem to be able to look at symptoms and search for the underlying cause. It is easier to convince ourselves, some people are just like that, and to blame her. Have we become that callous we no longer see pain? Continue reading Monsters Under the Bed.
“We live in terror because persuasion is no longer possible…because man can no longer tap that part of his nature, as real as the historical part, which he recaptures in contemplating the beauty of nature and of human faces… We suffocate among people who think they are absolutely right, whether in their machines or their ideas. And for all those who can live only in an atmosphere of human dialogue… this silence is the end of the world.” – Albert Camus
Seeds of hate and anger, of contention and destruction, of stress and worry, are planted in our lives every day by those people we associate with, those we have contact with, and the situations we experience.
Most of those seeds simply blow by and bounce off of our hearts as we move purposefully forward.
But when the seed comes from someone that has any place within our hearts and lives, it always seems to manage to go deeper. Some seeds hit upon sensitive places of distant pain or worries and seem to target our fears. It is fertile ground, and they begin to take root.
Now and then, we run our thoughts over the slight irritation those seeds can cause, like a finger over a small bite on our skin, until it begins to itch. We scratch at it and we can make it bleed.
Most of us hold a cool cloth to the spot, some of us make it even worse by picking at it, causing it to fester, perhaps even become infected. Time passes and we seem powerless to leave it alone. It pulls our attention, it interrupts our other activities. This seed that was not born of our own thoughts, but hurled at us by another is at best a weed, at worst a poisonous growth that will choke out all else and completely darken our lives. We wait giving it the power to control us. We surrender to its demands. Continue reading Our Pockets Full of Seeds.
Time for your annual fruit and veggie update brought to you by a Canadian who used to live on a farm now living in Australia with a man who used to have a farm. We may be farm-less but we have years of wisdom between us.
THIS is a custard apple: Note its un-apple like appearance. That is because it is not an apple.
THIS is information about a custard apple from a farmer currently in possession of a farm.
The Weekend Edition (you can read it even if it is not the weekend, just another example of people not saying what they mean)
“Custard Apple Recipes” is not a search request for some other apple hollowed out and filled with some form of prepared or wanna be custard. Neither is it a cake or some other dessert containing custard or apples. It is certainly NOT an apple anything with custard poured over it. It is a recipe using custard apples. Please don’t try to interpret my words for me, listen to what I am saying. Continue reading Custard Apples and the Google Conspiracy to Limit Your Life Experience.