Found this in someone´s comments today:
A personal blog by a graying (mostly Anglo with light African-American roots) gay left leaning liberal progressive married college-educated Buddhist Baha'i BBC/NPR-listening Professor Emeritus now following the Dharma in Minas Gerais, Brasil.
Friday, November 6, 2020
Via FB // Frodo & Sam
Via Spotlight on David Hinton | Author of China Root from Shambhala Publications
Experience the Wild Beauty of Hunger Mountain
|
|
|
Thursday, November 5, 2020
Today's Gay Wisdom via White Crane Institute: 2017 - Equinox/Return
An excerpt from Mark Thompson’s Gay Spirit: Myth & Meaning
What Edward Carpenter, Gerald Heard and Harry Hay recognized was the “new city of Friends” described by Walt Whitman over a hundred years ago—a sustaining place where “robust love” might thrive, a deep source of empowerment. It has been a dream asserted by a few and glimpsed by others at crucial points in our development. The early 1950s and 1970s were times when our movement howled at the moon, briefly acknowledging that this dream could be a reality. That this rude awakening represented something instinctual, wildly alive, posed problems for our leaders. Here was nature, woolly and cloven-hoofed, taking on unexpected form. Here were luminous faces peering out on the edges of accepted reality. How strangely familiar, too, for others to suppress what they do not comprehend, to fear what they’ve been taught to distrust.
Power, status, the hierarchy of who’s on top is the real currency of American culture, and so many of our leaders have been seduced by it all. These are the tactics of assimilation and they smell of panic. Thinking we have gained so much, we have been led to settle for less than we can be.
There is a tyranny implicit in any label, and certainly the label of Gay has now been revealed as much for its limitations as for its liberations. Why not consider difference, whatever its reason, in terms of function? The concept of a faerie shaman is just one idea that indicates a purposeful role, beyond that of just political or sexual identity. In times past and in many cultures, we often assumed the tasks of the shamans—wise and creative ones—and were duly honored as such. If we can but take gay beyond society’s definition—which we have internalized—and see ourselves as part of this function, our secret will be out.
I failed in my father’s eyes, and he in mind, as, I suppose, it had been fated. More to the point, few gay men ever seem to find complete acceptance from their fathers. (And even tolerance, however honorable, cannot account for true knowing.) Gay men have even less hope of being accepted by the greater father, the world of our daily existence, which, despite tolerant inroads, remains disapproving to its core. But neither can an opposite reality—that is, the matriarchy—hold any more honest place for us. Perhaps at one time, and according to the current feminist myth, the dominant Great Mother societies of agrarian, pre-Judeo-Christian times accepted gay men as welcomed sons. But I suspect, more likely, as subservient sons, in contrast to the outlawed sons of our contemporary age.
So gay men remain suspended in a horrible dilemma. Both the matriarchy and the patriarchy have, in effect, played themselves out; and the future, symbolized through an historic union of the two—has yet to fully emerge. Gay male consciousness remains stymied, unable to come of age. This is why so much of recent gay-identified culture appears to lack deeper meaning; however fresh and guileless its messages, empowered as it is by ritual dance and sex and defiance against corrupt authority.
At what point do gay boys stop finding favor in their father’s eyes? What stories are withheld, what rites of manhood lost in that uncomprehending gaze? Now, as gay men, we must begin by finding forgiveness in each other’s eyes, seek favor in stories of our own telling — our own fairy tales, the instructional fables we need to assume a mature and ever evolving gay adulthood. And for this we need to reinvest in wonder.
By learning more fully to evoke and to balance the powers of (what were once known as) the Earth Mother and Father Sky, we can set into motion our own whiling evolution as gay men beyond definition. We will no longer suffer from the constraints of living on a fraction of a life. We will evidence harmony as men who see clearly within and thus act cleanly without. We can learn to revel in our perspective, as much as our preference, and we don’t need a name. Our freedom is our responsibility. We simply need to do our work.
But first we must take the dark fantasies of our suppressed spirits out of their closets into the powerful light of reality. We can have a vision, and, thus, a culture to affirm, until one day perhaps our fathers will knowingly proclaim: “I have one of those.”
Gay Spirit: Myth & Meaning is now available at www.gaywisdom.org www.whitecranebooks.org
Via Daily Dharma: Breathe into Freedom
Each
day presents a new confrontation with reality. I want to run; instead, I
breathe. One breath—the freedom to choose my response in that moment.
—Marilyn Buck, “The Freedom to Breathe”
CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE
Wednesday, November 4, 2020
Via Ram Dass - Love Serve Remember Foundation // Words of Wisdom - November 4, 2020 💌
- Ram Dass -
Via Daily Dharma: Listen in Good Faith
Understanding occurs best when there’s an opportunity for an open dialogue in good faith.
—Thanissaro Bhikkhu, “Lost in Quotation”
CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE
Tuesday, November 3, 2020
Via Tricycle // Defending Democracy
Defending Democracy
By Jamyang Norbu
|
|
Via Daily Dharma: Sharing Your Vision for Society
With
a pure motivation, voting and being politically active can be ways of
sharing our vision and values with others, in an attempt to stop harm
and create happiness in society.
—Ven. Thubten Chodron, “Should Buddhists Vote?”
CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE
Monday, November 2, 2020
Via Mushim Patricia Ikeda - EBMC Sangha
Via Tricycle // Tina Turner
Absolutely, Indestructibly Happy
Interview with Tina Turner by Clark Strand
|
Via Daily Dharma: Twenty-Four Hours of Opportunity
If
you are aware that you are alive, that you have twenty-four hours to
create new joy, this would be enough to make yourself happy and the
people around you happy.
—Interview with Thich Nhat Hanh by Helen Tworkov, “Interbeing with Thich Nhat Hanh: An Interview”
CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE
Sunday, November 1, 2020
Via Daily Dharma: Beginning Again
As
with breathing practice, walking meditation, loving kindness practice or
living in harmony with the precepts, we take refuge over and over
again. We make progress, we slip backwards and sideways, we get
distracted, we get discouraged, we get elated, and we begin again.
—Beth Roth, “Family Dharma: Taking Refuge (On the Wings of Angels)”
CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE
Via Ram Dass - Love Serve Remember Foundation // Words of Wisdom - November 1, 2020 💌
Learn how to be comfortable with aloneness without defining it as loneliness, and realize that while your incarnation, your ego, is a socially derived construct, your soul is not. Your meditation practice is done in order to bring you back into your soul identity, where you can recognize that we are all alone, but you’re only lonely if you’re caught down in your ego.
- Ram Dass -
Saturday, October 31, 2020
Via Tricycle // Living in a World That No Longer Exists
Living in a World That No Longer Exists
A writer reflects on finding beauty that endures.
By Curtis WhiteThere is no heavier fate than to live in a time that is not your own.
—Vasily Grossman, “Life and Fate”
Our moment is rife with impermanence. Nearest to us is that form of impermanence familiar to Buddhists: birth, aging, sickness, and death. Baudelaire described this ordinary catastrophe in lines as forceful as Tibetan skull beads: “Time engulfs me in its steady tide/As blizzards cover corpses with their snow.”
But recently the ageless fear of our approaching demise has been greatly quickened by the COVID-19 pandemic. It feels as if we are now accelerating through the stages of life. If we thought that we still had long, lazy years in front of us, it now feels as if many of us will be dead by the end of the week, every week, and on into the foreseeable future. Untimely deaths indeed. Anxious, we try to shut our ears to it, but we still hear what Albert Camus called “that eerie sound above, the whispering of the plague.”