10-09-2010, 12:00 AM
With an exhausted mind I have strained to say what needs to be said. The truth is that others have said it before, and with better words. Here are some of those words, sung to a people, if they could only hear:
IN HELD TWAS I
Words by
Keith Reid
Music by Procol Harum
In the darkness of the
night, only occasionally relieved by glimpses of Nirvana as seen through other
people's windows, wallowing in a morass of self-despair made only more painful
by the knowledge that all I am is of my own making ...
When everything around me,
even the kitchen ceiling, has collapsed and crumbled without warning. And I am
left, standing alive and well, looking up and wondering why and wherefore.
At a time like this, which
exists maybe only for me, but is nonetheless real, if I can communicate, and in
the telling and the bearing of my soul anything is gained, even though the
words which I use are pretentious and make you cringe with embarrassment, let
me remind you of the pilgrim who asked for an audience with the Dalai Lama.
He was told he must first
spend five years in contemplation. After the five years, he was ushered into
the Dalai Lama's presence, who said, 'Well, my son, what do you wish to know?'
So the pilgrim said, 'I wish to know the meaning of life, father.'
And the Dalai Lama smiled
and said, 'Well my son, life is like a beanstalk, isn't it?'
Held close by that which
some despise
which some call fake, and
others lies
And somewhat small
for one so tall
a doubting Thomas who
would be?
It's written plain for all
to see
for one who I am with no
more
it's hard at times, it's
awful raw
They say that Jesus healed
the sick and helped the poor
and those unsure
believed his eyes
- a strange disguise
Still write it down, it
might be read
nothing's better left
unsaid
only sometimes, still no
doubt
it's hard to see, it all
works out
'Twas tea-time at the circus:
King Jimi, he was there
Through hoops he skipped, high wires he tripped, and all the while the glare
of the aching, baking spotlight beat down upon his cloak
and though the crowd clapped furiously they could not see the joke
'Twas tea-time at the circus,
though some might not agree
as jugglers danced, and horses pranced and clowns clowned endlessly
But trunk to tail the elephants
quite silent, never spoke
and though the crowd clapped desperately they could not see the joke
In the autumn of my madness when my hair is turning grey
for the milk has finally curdled and I've nothing left to say
When all my thoughts are spoken (save my last departing birds)
bring all my friends unto me and I'll strangle them with words
In the autumn of my madness which in coming won't be long
for the nights are now much darker and the daylight's not so strong
and the things which I believed in are no longer quite enough
for the knowing is much harder and the going's getting rough
I know if I'd been wiser this would never have occurred
but I wallowed in my blindness so it's plain that I deserve
for the sin of self-indulgence when the truth was writ quite clear
I must spend my life amongst the dead who spend their lives in fear
of a death that they're not sure of, of a life they can't control
It's all so simple really if you just look to your soul
Some say that I'm a wise man, some think that I'm a fool
It doesn't matter either way: I'll be a wise man's fool
For the lesson lies in learning and by teaching I'll be taught
for there's nothing hidden anywhere, it's all there to be sought
And so if you know anything look closely at the time
at others who remain untrue and don't commit that crime
PILGRIMS PROGRESS
Words by
Keith Reid
I sat me down to write a
simple story
which maybe in the end
became a song
In trying to find the
words which might begin it
I found these were the
thoughts I brought along
At first I took my weight
to be an anchor
and gathered up my fears
to guide me round
but then I clearly saw my
own delusion
and found my struggles
further bogged me down
In starting out I thought
to go exploring
and set my foot upon the
nearest road
In vain I looked to find
the promised turning
but only saw how far I was
from home
In searching I forsook the
paths of learning
and sought instead to find
some pirate's gold
In fighting I did hurt
those dearest to me
and still no hidden truths
could I unfold
I sat me down to write a
simple story
which maybe in the end
became a song
The words have all been
writ by one before me
We're taking turns in
trying to pass them on
Oh, we're taking turns in
trying to pass them on
This contains the same purpose as the Warriors Way, in my opinion.
What Is Your Intent?
posted by Deepak Chopra
Aug 31, 2009 5:04 am
Intent is a seed in consciousness, or spirit. If you pay attention to it,
it has within it the means for its own fulfillment.
We can restore the power of intent through a return to the true self, or
self-actualization. People who attain self-actualization reestablish their
connectedness to the non-local mind. They have no desire to manipulate and
control others. They are independent of criticism and also of flattery. They
feel beneath no one, but they also feel superior to no one. They are in touch
with the internal reference point that is their soul, and not their ego.
Anxiety is no longer an issue, because anxiety comes from the ego’s need
to protect itself. And that anxiety is what interferes with the spontaneity of
intent. Intent is the mechanics through which spirit transforms itself into material
reality.
Mature spirituality requires sobriety of awareness. If you are sober, you
are responsive to feedback but at the same time immune to criticism and
flattery. You learn to let go and you do not worry about the result. You have
confidence in the outcome, and you start to see the synchronicity that is
always organized around you.
Intention provides opportunities that you have to be alert to. Good luck
is opportunity and preparedness coming together. Intention will provide you
opportunities, but you still need to act when the opportunity is provided.
Whenever you take action, have the attitude that you are not performing
the action. Have the attitude that your actions are really the actions of
nonlocal intelligence, the organizing universal spirit. You will begin to
notice a great diminution of anxiety. You will also be less attached to the
result.
Adapted from The Spontaneous Fulfillment of Desire, by Deepak Chopra
(Three Rivers Press).
IN HELD TWAS I
Words by
Keith Reid
Music by Procol Harum
In the darkness of the
night, only occasionally relieved by glimpses of Nirvana as seen through other
people's windows, wallowing in a morass of self-despair made only more painful
by the knowledge that all I am is of my own making ...
When everything around me,
even the kitchen ceiling, has collapsed and crumbled without warning. And I am
left, standing alive and well, looking up and wondering why and wherefore.
At a time like this, which
exists maybe only for me, but is nonetheless real, if I can communicate, and in
the telling and the bearing of my soul anything is gained, even though the
words which I use are pretentious and make you cringe with embarrassment, let
me remind you of the pilgrim who asked for an audience with the Dalai Lama.
He was told he must first
spend five years in contemplation. After the five years, he was ushered into
the Dalai Lama's presence, who said, 'Well, my son, what do you wish to know?'
So the pilgrim said, 'I wish to know the meaning of life, father.'
And the Dalai Lama smiled
and said, 'Well my son, life is like a beanstalk, isn't it?'
Held close by that which
some despise
which some call fake, and
others lies
And somewhat small
for one so tall
a doubting Thomas who
would be?
It's written plain for all
to see
for one who I am with no
more
it's hard at times, it's
awful raw
They say that Jesus healed
the sick and helped the poor
and those unsure
believed his eyes
- a strange disguise
Still write it down, it
might be read
nothing's better left
unsaid
only sometimes, still no
doubt
it's hard to see, it all
works out
'Twas tea-time at the circus:
King Jimi, he was there
Through hoops he skipped, high wires he tripped, and all the while the glare
of the aching, baking spotlight beat down upon his cloak
and though the crowd clapped furiously they could not see the joke
'Twas tea-time at the circus,
though some might not agree
as jugglers danced, and horses pranced and clowns clowned endlessly
But trunk to tail the elephants
quite silent, never spoke
and though the crowd clapped desperately they could not see the joke
In the autumn of my madness when my hair is turning grey
for the milk has finally curdled and I've nothing left to say
When all my thoughts are spoken (save my last departing birds)
bring all my friends unto me and I'll strangle them with words
In the autumn of my madness which in coming won't be long
for the nights are now much darker and the daylight's not so strong
and the things which I believed in are no longer quite enough
for the knowing is much harder and the going's getting rough
I know if I'd been wiser this would never have occurred
but I wallowed in my blindness so it's plain that I deserve
for the sin of self-indulgence when the truth was writ quite clear
I must spend my life amongst the dead who spend their lives in fear
of a death that they're not sure of, of a life they can't control
It's all so simple really if you just look to your soul
Some say that I'm a wise man, some think that I'm a fool
It doesn't matter either way: I'll be a wise man's fool
For the lesson lies in learning and by teaching I'll be taught
for there's nothing hidden anywhere, it's all there to be sought
And so if you know anything look closely at the time
at others who remain untrue and don't commit that crime
PILGRIMS PROGRESS
Words by
Keith Reid
I sat me down to write a
simple story
which maybe in the end
became a song
In trying to find the
words which might begin it
I found these were the
thoughts I brought along
At first I took my weight
to be an anchor
and gathered up my fears
to guide me round
but then I clearly saw my
own delusion
and found my struggles
further bogged me down
In starting out I thought
to go exploring
and set my foot upon the
nearest road
In vain I looked to find
the promised turning
but only saw how far I was
from home
In searching I forsook the
paths of learning
and sought instead to find
some pirate's gold
In fighting I did hurt
those dearest to me
and still no hidden truths
could I unfold
I sat me down to write a
simple story
which maybe in the end
became a song
The words have all been
writ by one before me
We're taking turns in
trying to pass them on
Oh, we're taking turns in
trying to pass them on
This contains the same purpose as the Warriors Way, in my opinion.
What Is Your Intent?
posted by Deepak Chopra
Aug 31, 2009 5:04 am
Intent is a seed in consciousness, or spirit. If you pay attention to it,
it has within it the means for its own fulfillment.
We can restore the power of intent through a return to the true self, or
self-actualization. People who attain self-actualization reestablish their
connectedness to the non-local mind. They have no desire to manipulate and
control others. They are independent of criticism and also of flattery. They
feel beneath no one, but they also feel superior to no one. They are in touch
with the internal reference point that is their soul, and not their ego.
Anxiety is no longer an issue, because anxiety comes from the ego’s need
to protect itself. And that anxiety is what interferes with the spontaneity of
intent. Intent is the mechanics through which spirit transforms itself into material
reality.
Mature spirituality requires sobriety of awareness. If you are sober, you
are responsive to feedback but at the same time immune to criticism and
flattery. You learn to let go and you do not worry about the result. You have
confidence in the outcome, and you start to see the synchronicity that is
always organized around you.
Intention provides opportunities that you have to be alert to. Good luck
is opportunity and preparedness coming together. Intention will provide you
opportunities, but you still need to act when the opportunity is provided.
Whenever you take action, have the attitude that you are not performing
the action. Have the attitude that your actions are really the actions of
nonlocal intelligence, the organizing universal spirit. You will begin to
notice a great diminution of anxiety. You will also be less attached to the
result.
Adapted from The Spontaneous Fulfillment of Desire, by Deepak Chopra
(Three Rivers Press).