Our frustration is greater when we have much and want more than when we have nothing and want some. We are less dissatisfied when we lack many things than when we seem to lack but one thing.
Eric Hoffer, The True Believer - Thoughts on the nature of mass movements
"Writing itself, if not misunderstood and abused, becomes a way of empowering the writing self. It converts anger and disappointment into deliberate and durable aggression, the writer's main source of energy. It converts sorrow and self-pity into empathy, the writer's main means of relating to otherness. Similarly, his wounded innocence turns into irony, his silliness into wit, his guilt into judgment, his oddness into originality, his perverseness into his stinger."
I haven't ever really found a place that I call home I never stick around quite long enough to make it I apologize once again I'm not in love But it's not as if I mind that your heart ain't exactly breaking
It's just a thought, only a thought
But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy Well I deserve nothing more than I get Cos nothing I have is truly mine
I've always thought that I would love to live by the sea To travel the world alone and live more simply I have no idea what's happened to that dream Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me
It's just a thought, only a thought
But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy Well I deserve nothing more than I get Cos nothing I have is truly mine
If my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy Well I deserve nothing more than I get Cos nothing I have is truly mine
While my heart is a shield and I won't let it down While I am so afraid to fail so I won't even try Well how can I say I'm alive
If my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy Well I deserve nothing more than I get Cos nothing I have is truly mine
If my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy Well I deserve nothing more than I get Cos nothing I have is truly mine Cos nothing I have is truly mine Cos nothing I have is truly mine Cos nothing I have is truly mine
And yet, our collective fascination with his life rather than his writing suggests another bit of code, or at least a set of clues. Wasn't this, after all, what Salinger was rejecting, a culture of celebrity in which the most important thing was appearance and no one cared about the level of the soul?
"I just quit, that's all," Franny Glass tells her boyfriend early in "Franny and Zooey," explaining why she gave up acting. " . . . I don't know. It seemed like such poor taste, sort of, to want to act in the first place. I mean all the ego. And I used to hate myself so, when I was in a play, to be backstage after the play was over. All those egos running around feeling terribly charitable and warm."
For all that "The Catcher in the Rye" made him famous, "Franny and Zooey" is Salinger's masterpiece, an evocation of loss and longing within the bonds of family. Composed of two novellas, it introduces the youngest members of the Glass family, about whom Salinger would devote more than half of his published work.
Among my friends love is a great sorrow. It has become a daily burden, a feast, a gluttony for fools, a heart's famine. We visit one another asking, telling one another. We do not burn hotly, we question the fire. We do not fall forward with our alive eager faces looking thru into the fire. We stare back into our faces. We have become our own realities. We seek to exhaust our lovelessness.
Among my friends love is a painful question. We seek out among the passing faces a sphinx-face who will ask its riddle. Among my friends love is an answer to a question that has not been asked. Then ask it.
Among my friends love is a payment. It is an old debt for a borrowing foolishly spent. And we go on, borrowing and borrowing from each other. Among my friends love is a wage that one might have for an honest living.
Jhana is called the pleasure of renunciation, the pleasure of seclusion, the pleasure of peace, the pleasure of enlightenment. I say of this kind of pleasure that it should be pursued, that it should be developed, that it should be cultivated, that it should not be feared.
This holy life is led not for gain honour and fame, not for endowment of virtues, not for endowment of concentration, and not for the endowment of knowledge and vision.
It is for the unshakeable release of mind. This is the essence of the holy life, it is the heartwood and the end of the holy life.
Judy Lief teaches us to walk through life without holding on. - From Tricycle
IN OUR FAST-PACED SOCIETY, letting go is often paired with moving on. People encourage friends who have suffered a loss to learn to let go of the past and get on with living. In New Age terminology, “just let go” has become an all-purpose piece of advice. But we humans are very cunning: While we talk a lot about letting go, we usually find a way to have our cake and eat it, too—to let go and still manage to hang on. In fact, it is easy to use the notion of letting go as yet another ego-tool. We can use it to prop ourselves up, to cloud things over, and uphold our illusion of solidity. We are so clever: we can take a concept like letting go, so threatening to our ego-fixation, and turn it completely on its head, so that instead it becomes a credential, an ego adornment. We can take pride in our letting go and revel in how pure we are now that we have pared down and simplified and become so much less materialistic. We can mask our laziness by seeing it instead as a letting go of ambition; we can mask our inability to connect with other people with the more spiritual notion of letting go of frivolous attachments. The possibilities are endless. So if we are to deepen our understanding of letting go, it is important to begin with an insight into how easily it can be distorted. Then we may be able to discriminate between a pretense of letting go and the real thing.
When there's no one else that makes me whole i get this feeling That i've loved you before.
Were we lovers in an army marching all for Rome? Side by side in battle Did we bravely leave our home?
Did i hold you in my arms As you were taking your last breath? Did i shout to all the Gods that i would love you beyond death?
Have i wondered through the desert? Have i looked and learned all the stars? Have i rode the days and nights on rails to get back where you are? And every time i floundered It's your eyes i know for sure.
I know, i've loved you before I've loved you before
New Delhi, India -- A Buddhist story about freeing oneself from the tyranny of thoughts, paving way for a silent mind. A short story about leading one from the mind to the no mind, a state of eternal peace. Gautama Buddha one day asked one of his disciples to beg alms from a certain household and report to him at dusk. The monk returned to the master as per his command only to let him know that he would not beg for alms in that particular house again. When pressed for the reason, the monk answered, " I savoured the delicious food served and I suddenly felt an urge to eat something sweet. The lady of the house offered me a sweet dish. I then felt like sleeping and the lady immediately asked me to rest for a while. I was surprised by her ability to read my thoughts that I asked how she knew of my desires?"
"The lady replied, 'Witnessing my thoughts, my mind has become silent now that I can now see other thoughts as well."
The monk continued to Buddha, " Looking at her I had sexual thoughts also and now I am embarrassed to see her again for alms as she would have read my sensual desire as well. So I do not want to visit her house for alms" The Buddha said that the monk ought to go to the particular house for alms again. He advised, "This time you will go as a changed person. Just be aware of your thoughts, every bite of your food and every step that you take. You will just have to watch every thought that arises, but do not co-operate with it . Disassociate with it and do not analyze it. No thought is yours, they come from outside!"
The monk did as advised by Gautama Buddha. He remained a mere witness to his thoughts and there was no co-operation from his end. There was a change within him, an inner peace, though the world continued to remain the same.
The one and only trouble is one's own mind. When one knows one's true self, the mind ceases to be.
Los Angeles, CA (USA) -- Thirty years ago, I visited a Buddhist monastery for the first time in my life. Two weeks later, I decided to shave my head and become a nun. At the time, I was a student at the law school of National Taiwan University, and wanted to be a lawyer or even a politician. I had felt, since I was a child, great sympathy toward the suppressed classes in society and was attracted to fairness and justice. These have been the guiding values in my life.