Eternally Winkling…

The heart of the person before you is a mirror. See there your own form.

Kinda on a role here. 3rd Turf in 3 days, whoa!

My walking with Mary and Sophie have helped me reassemble the latest form of the creative self. We to often think of our selves as something static I think, whilst we are anything but. My adventures in various realms of consciousness doesn’t give me great confidence in the static model. We are made of colonies of bacteria on one hand working in cooperation with each other and other rudimentary forms of life, yet we see ourselves as discreet individuals, isolated in our field of precious self-consciousness. The layers of the onion… peel a bit away, and another appears, until one is at the heart of it, then; nothing.

I have found that we are eternally winkling in and out of existence. We are here, then we are not. We do it all the time with shifting focus, and emerging personalities that rise to the surface, and then submerge back into the sea of “self, non-self”. “Each forward step we take we leave some phantom of ourselves behind.” ~ John Lancaster Spalding

We are consciousness thinking we are human, or not.


On The Menu:
The Golden Rule Through The Ages
Amon Tobin – At The End Of The Day
Visu the Woodsman and the Old Priest
Kakinomoto no Hitomaro 4 Poems
Ariwara no Narihira – 4 Poems
Galerie Stratique – Horizons Lointains

The Golden Rule Through The Ages

“This is the sum of duty. Do not unto others that which would cause you pain if done to you.”
– Mahabharata 5:1517, from the Vedic tradition of India, circa 3000 BC

“What is hateful to you, do not to our fellow man. That is entire Law, all the rest is commentary.”
– Talmud, Shabbat 31a, from the Judaic tradition, circa 1300 BC

“That nature alone is good which refrains from doing unto another whatsoever is not good for itself.”
– Avesta, Dadistan-i-dinik 94:5, from the Zoroastrian tradition, circa 600 BC

“Hurt not others in ways that you find hurtful.”
– Tripitaka, Udanga-varga 5,18 , from the Buddhist tradition, circa 525 BC

“Surely it is the maxim of loving kindness, do not unto others that which you would not have done unto you.”
– Analects, Lun-yu XV,23, from the Confucian tradition, circa 500 BC

“Be charitable to all beings, love is the representative of God.”
– Ko-ji-ki, Hachiman Kasuga of the Shinto tradition, circa 500 AD

“No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother that which he desires for himself.”
– Koran, Sunnah, from the Islam tradition, circa 620 AD


Amon Tobin – At The End Of The Day


Japanese Folk Tales:
Visu the Woodsman and the Old Priest

Many years ago there lived on the then barren plain of Suruga a woodsman by the name of Visu. He was a giant in stature, and lived in a hut with his wife and children.
One day Visu received a visit from an old priest, who said to him: “Honorable woodsman, I am afraid you never pray.”

Visu replied: “If you had a wife and a large family to keep, you would never have time to pray.”

This remark made the priest angry, and the old man gave the woodcutter a vivid description of the horror of being reborn as a toad, or a mouse, or an insect for millions of years. Such lurid details were not to Visu’s liking, and he accordingly promised the priest that in future he would pray.

“Work and pray,” said the priest as he took his departure.

Unfortunately Visu did nothing but pray. He prayed all day long and refused to do any work, so that his rice crops withered and his wife and family starved. Visu’s wife, who had hitherto never said a harsh or bitter word to her husband, now became extremely angry, and, pointing to the poor thin bodies of her children, she exclaimed: “Rise, Visu, take up your ax and do something more helpful to us all than the mere mumbling of prayers!”

Visu was so utterly amazed at what his wife had said that it was some time before he could think of a fitting reply. When he did so his words came hot and strong to the ears of his poor, much-wronged wife.

“Woman,” said he, “the Gods come first. You are an impertinent creature to speak to me so, and I will have nothing more to do with you!” Visu snatched up his ax and, without looking round to say farewell, he left the hut, strode out of the wood, and climbed up Fujiyama, where a mist hid him from sight.

When Visu had seated himself upon the mountain he heard a soft rustling sound, and immediately afterward saw a fox dart into a thicket. Now Visu deemed it extremely lucky to see a fox, and, forgetting his prayers, he sprang up, and ran hither and thither in the hope of again finding this sharp-nosed little creature.

He was about to give up the chase when, coming to an open space in a wood, he saw two ladies sitting down by a brook playing go. The woodsman was so completely fascinated that he could do nothing but sit down and watch them. There was no sound except the soft click of pieces on the board and the song of the running brook. The ladies took no notice of Visu, for they seemed to be playing a strange game that had no end, a game that entirely absorbed their attention. Visu could not keep his eyes off these fair women. He watched their long black hair and the little quick hands that shot out now and again from their big silk sleeves in order to move the pieces.

After he had been sitting there for three hundred years, though to him it was but a summer’s afternoon, he saw that one of the players had made a false move. “Wrong, most lovely lady!” he exclaimed excitedly. In a moment these women turned into foxes and ran away.

When Visu attempted to pursue them he found to his horror that his limbs were terribly stiff, that his hair was very long, and that his beard touched the ground. He discovered, moreover, that the handle of his ax, though made of the hardest wood, had crumbled away into a little heap of dust.

After many painful efforts Visu was able to stand on his feet and proceed very slowly toward his little home. When he reached the spot he was surprised to see no hut, and, perceiving a very old woman, he said: “Good lady, I am amazed to find that my little home has disappeared. I went away this afternoon, and now in the evening it has vanished!”

The old woman, who believed that a madman was addressing her, inquired his name. When she was told, she exclaimed: “Bah! You must indeed be mad! Visu lived three hundred years ago! He went away one day, and he never came back again.”

“Three hundred years!” murmured Visu. “It cannot be possible. Where are my dear wife and children?”

“Buried!” hissed the old woman, “and, if what you say is true, you children’s children too. The Gods have prolonged your miserable life in punishment for having neglected your wife and little children.”

Big tears ran down Visu’s withered cheeks as he said in a husky voice: “I have lost my manhood. I have prayed when my dear ones starved and needed the labor of my once strong hands. Old woman, remember my last words: “If you pray, work too!”

We do not know how long the poor but repentant Visu lived after he returned from his strange adventures. His white spirit is still said to haunt Fujiyama when the moon shines brightly.

Kakinomoto no Hitomaro 4 Poems

From the heights of Tsuno Mountain

In Iwami,
From the heights of Tsuno Mountain,
Even through the trees,
My waving sleeves,
My darling must have seen.

From uncountable Ôtsu

From uncountable
Ôtsu, she came and,
On the day I met her,
Glanced at her but briefly,
So, now, regret fills me.

Harvested Jewelled Seaweed

Harvested jewelled seaweed
At Minume; passed on,
Lush as summer grasses,
To the point at Noshima,
My boat draws near.

Heaven’s Clouds

Heaven’s clouds,
Layer on layer, conceal
The rumbling thunder:
Sound alone-
Must I continue just to hear?

Ariwara no Narihira – 4 Poems

The purple
Hue is deep-now is the time
Every sprouting shoot-seen from afar
Throughout the fields-of trees and plants
Is equally dear.

c. mid-ninth century
I know not whether
Is was I who journeyed there
Or you who came to me:
Was it dream or reality?
Was I sleeping or awake?
Last night I too
Wandered lost in the darkness
Of a disturbed heart
Whether dream or reality
Tonight let us decide!
Shallow the inlet
If the traveler wading it
Is not even wetted
I shall cross again to you
Over Meeting Barrier.

Upon this pathway,
I have long heard others say,
man sets forth at last –
yet I had not thought to go
so very soon as today–

For sorrowing sons
who would have their parents live
a thousand long years –
how I wish that in this world
there were no final partings.

Galerie Stratique – Horizons Lointains


“The fish trap exists because of the fish. Once you’ve gotten the fish you can forget the trap. The rabbit snare exists because of the rabbit. Once you’ve gotten the rabbit, you can forget the snare. Words exist because of meaning. Once you’ve gotten the meaning, you can forget the words. Where can I find a man who has forgotten words so I can talk with him?” ~Chuang Tzu

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