“Thich Nhat Hanh was caring for a young girl, Thuy, when after playing they came in for something to drink. Thich Nhat Hanh offered them apple juice that had been shared from a neighbor. When he poured Thuy the juice it was toward the end and had a lot of pulp in it. She left it and went to play and came back very thirsty. He pointed to the glass of apple juice which was now clear as the pulp had settled to the bottom with time and stillness -- practicing sitting meditation, as he told the girl. And she understood!
"She said, Now I understand why you practice sitting meditation -- you want to be clear."
"I said, "Yes, you understand what sitting meditation means. If you know how to sit, how to put yourself in a stable physical position, if you know how to handle your in-breath and out-breath, then after some time you become peaceful and clear."
"That is why we like to do sitting meditation every day. We imitate the glass of apple juice, or the apple juice imitates us!"
Planting Seeds - (2011, p.17)”
―
"She said, Now I understand why you practice sitting meditation -- you want to be clear."
"I said, "Yes, you understand what sitting meditation means. If you know how to sit, how to put yourself in a stable physical position, if you know how to handle your in-breath and out-breath, then after some time you become peaceful and clear."
"That is why we like to do sitting meditation every day. We imitate the glass of apple juice, or the apple juice imitates us!"
Planting Seeds - (2011, p.17)”
―
“Hold fast
To the law
Of the last
Cold tome,
Where the earth
Of the truth
Lies thick
On the page,
And the loam
Of faith
In the ink
Long fled
From the drone
Of the nib
Flows on
Through the breath
Of the bone
Reborn
In a dawn
Of doom
Where blooms
The rose
For the winds
The child
For the tomb
The thrush
For the hush
Of song,
The corn
For the scythe
And the thorn
In wait
For the heart
Till the last
Of the first
Depart,
And the least
Of the past
Is dust
And the dust
Is lost.
Hold fast!”
― Gormenghast
To the law
Of the last
Cold tome,
Where the earth
Of the truth
Lies thick
On the page,
And the loam
Of faith
In the ink
Long fled
From the drone
Of the nib
Flows on
Through the breath
Of the bone
Reborn
In a dawn
Of doom
Where blooms
The rose
For the winds
The child
For the tomb
The thrush
For the hush
Of song,
The corn
For the scythe
And the thorn
In wait
For the heart
Till the last
Of the first
Depart,
And the least
Of the past
Is dust
And the dust
Is lost.
Hold fast!”
― Gormenghast
Larry’s 2024 Year in Books
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