Behold, Arjuna, a million divine forms, with an infinite variety of color and shape. Behold the gods of the natural world, and many more wonders never revealed before. Behold the entire cosmos turning within my body, and the other things you desire to see. But these things cannot be seen with your physical eyes; therefore I give you spiritual vision to perceive my majestic power. - Bhagavad Gita 11:5-8 |
Thursday, September 30, 2010
The Gita
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Watching the rain
I returned from Ktaadn, forced out by the persistent rain and stayed in Concord. Which as it turns out is a year to the date, and ironically, again,watching the rain come down.
Monday, September 27, 2010
autumn leaves, water and rocks
Camping at Mt Katahdin saw these lovely leaves in the water as I filtered the water from the Abol Stream just steps from my site. I love the colors of autumn. Lesson learned, be mindful of filtering while in the awe of nature.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Pretenders - Back On The Chain Gang HD
This song always reminds me of my sister. "I found a picture of you...those were the happiest days of my life." I was listening to this song driving through Ohio this summer, listening to Hynde traveling in her home state I thought was happenstance. But I digress, I had to pull over listening to the words, they never seemed so significant as they did at that moment. Funny how things just strike at certain moments. thoughts of her catch me off guard at times. Why she pops into my thoughts when she does? This very nice man pulled behind me to see if I was having car trouble. I told him I was just missing someone a lot and was overcome. Very sweet man. Makes me wonder at times what the people I met along my journey are doing now. I miss being on the road, meeting people, and finding out about them, where they live, where they are headed and what brought them to that time and space.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Thoreau's Birth House
The house is beautifully done. The house had been in several hands since Thoreau's time there. Since they didn't know for certain what the furnishings were like they didn't furnish the house. The tour consist of a walk through the third of the house the Thoreau's lived in. The walls are adorned with quotes from Thoreau's journals and pieces written about him. There is also a wall of significant people who's live were affected by Thoreau's life and writings.
"The Thoreau Farm Trust is a non-profit group dedicated to the restoration and reuse of the c.1730 farmhouse in Concord where Henry David Thoreau was born. Currently, there is no house site in Concord that celebrates the entire life and legacy of this extraordinary American author and philosopher and our country's first environmentalist. The fact that the house where Thoreau was born is located in a modest neighborhood and is surrounded by farmland makes it a perfect place to carry on Thoreau's belief in living simply and close to the land." The Thoreau Farm Trust
Hindu Wisdom
Of what avail is an outer appearance of saintliness, If the mind suffers inwardly from knowledge of its iniquity? He who has not attained the power yet wears the garb of saints Is like a cow that grazes about wearing a tiger's skin. He who conceals himself beneath saintly robes and commits sins Is like the hunter who hides in the bushes to snare unwary birds.
- Tirukkural 28:272-274
Monday, September 20, 2010
Death, Grieving and Moving on
I had an interesting conversation with my neighbor this afternoon. She asked me if I ever had days where I really missed my sister. I said everyday. I told her it was one of the reasons for my journey this summer. The pain was so great I just couldn't take it. I told her about the days driving through the west I would pull over and just cry because I missed her so much, it hurt so much. I never felt I could tell anyone that before.
No one seems to understand the empty place in my life and heart I have since she left. She was my sister, but more than that she was more of a mother than my mother and she was a fantastic friend and so encouraging and loving. I think that is what I miss most is her unconditional love for me.
I got into an argument with my parents after her death. Actually it was more of them telling me everything that was wrong about me and they proceeded to tell me all the things Virginia had said about me. Yes, I know. That was her greatest characteristic she knew I wasn't complete, but she still loved me.
No one seems to understand the empty place in my life and heart I have since she left. She was my sister, but more than that she was more of a mother than my mother and she was a fantastic friend and so encouraging and loving. I think that is what I miss most is her unconditional love for me.
I got into an argument with my parents after her death. Actually it was more of them telling me everything that was wrong about me and they proceeded to tell me all the things Virginia had said about me. Yes, I know. That was her greatest characteristic she knew I wasn't complete, but she still loved me.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Autumnal Tints
We love to see any redness in the vegetation of the temperate zone. It is the color of colors. This plant speaks to our blood. It asks a bright sun on it to make it show to best advantage, and it must be seen at this season of the year. Autumnal Tints
And now, in this month of September, this month of travelling, when men are hastening to the sea-side, or the mountains, or the lakes, this modest maple, still without budging an inch, travels in its reputation,— runs up its scarlet flag on that hill-side, which shows that it has finished its summer’s work...
And now, in this month of September, this month of travelling, when men are hastening to the sea-side, or the mountains, or the lakes, this modest maple, still without budging an inch, travels in its reputation,— runs up its scarlet flag on that hill-side, which shows that it has finished its summer’s work...
The Restless Mind
The Restless Mind
By William Ellery Channing
By the bleak wild hill,
Or the deep lake still
In the silent grain
On the upland plain,
I would that the unsparing Storm might rage,
And blot with gloom the fair day's sunny page.
The lightning's gleam
Should gentle seem,
The thunder's blow
Both soft and low,
For now the world hath fill of summer weather,
Ye shining days thy throng you thus together.
I am possesst
With strange Unrest,
My feelings jar.
My heart is war,
A spirit dances in my dreams to-day.
I am too cold, for its strange, sunny play.
Then hurry down
With angry frown,
Thou sudden storm
come fierce and warm,
And splinter trees and whistle o'er the moor,
For in thy Bravery I can life endure.
By William Ellery Channing
By the bleak wild hill,
Or the deep lake still
In the silent grain
On the upland plain,
I would that the unsparing Storm might rage,
And blot with gloom the fair day's sunny page.
The lightning's gleam
Should gentle seem,
The thunder's blow
Both soft and low,
For now the world hath fill of summer weather,
Ye shining days thy throng you thus together.
I am possesst
With strange Unrest,
My feelings jar.
My heart is war,
A spirit dances in my dreams to-day.
I am too cold, for its strange, sunny play.
Then hurry down
With angry frown,
Thou sudden storm
come fierce and warm,
And splinter trees and whistle o'er the moor,
For in thy Bravery I can life endure.
Whitman on Walden
In 1881 Walt Whitman visited the cabin site, and later wrote: "Then to Walden Pond, that beautifully embower'd sheet of water, and spent over an hour there. On the spot in the woods where Thoreau had his solitary house is now quite a cairn of stones, to mark the place; I too carried one and deposited on the heap."
Whitman's beguiling description of Walden here "beautifully empowered sheet of water" is how I see it when I am there. Walden has such and alluring power over me. I'm not sure what it is, but I feel complete when I am there. Perhaps Henry's spirit is there? This past week I hiked around the pond and into Lincoln what a beautiful day. People always ask what the attraction to Walden is perhaps Whitman hits on it here, beauty, empowerment, and nature. What more could a spirit ask?
Labels:
nature,
poets,
rocks,
thoreau,
transcendentalist,
walden pond,
water,
whitman,
woods
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Sleepy Hollow
Ah me! it was my childhood's thought
If he should make my web a blot
On life's fair picture of delight
My heart's content would find it right.
On the back of Mary Moody Emerson's headstone. Sleepy Hollow Cemetery
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