annalee

“When the starry sky, a vista of open seas, or a stained-glass window shedding purple beams fascinate me, there is a cluster of meaning, of colors, of words, of caresses, there are light touches, scents, sighs, cadences that arise, shroud me, carry me away, and sweep me beyond the things I see, hear, or think, The "sublime" object dissolves in the raptures of a bottomless...
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Notes on the Melody of Things

Sky is free.

Ocean is blissful.

Trees are divine.

Rocks are enlightened.

So are we.

Who is still searching ...

for what?

-- Anam Thubten Rinpoche

Hmmm. Happy Christmas xxx

I feel like I was a bit extreme in my last journal, having realised that despite my momentary crisis of emotions, life goes on. Everything else is still there, the "good" and the "bad". It definitely helps in those moments of panic to read of similar situations, to feel kindness, reassurance and take some good advice. I thank you for taking the time and effort...
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“Behold yon miserable creature. That Point is a Being like ourselves, but confined to the non-dimensional Gulf. He is himself his own World, his own Universe; of any other than himself he can form no conception; he knows not Length, nor Breadth, nor Height, for he has had no experience of them; he has no cognizance even of the number Two; nor has he a...
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“Ideally, what should be said to every child, repeatedly, throughout his or her school life is something like this: 'You are in the process of being indoctrinated. We have not yet evolved a system of education that is not a system of indoctrination. We are sorry, but it is the best we can do. What you are being taught here is an amalgam of current...
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"'Why, look,' said Neville, 'at the clock ticking on the mantelpiece? Time passes, yes. And we grow old. But to sit with you, alone with you, here in London, in this firelit room, you there, I here, is all. The world ransacked to its uttermost ends, and all its heights stripped and gathered of their flowers, holds no more. Look at the firelight running up...
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'For one day as I leant over a gate that led into a field, the rhythm stopped; the rhymes and the hummings, the nonsense and the poetry. A space was cleared in my mind. I saw through the thick leaves of habit. Leaning over the gate I regretted so much litter, so much unaccomplishment and separation, for one cannot cross London to see a friend,...
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Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates.

At the first gate, ask yourself, ‘Is it true?’

At the second ask, ‘Is it necessary?’

At the third gate ask ‘Is it kind?

- Sufi Saying

The quote above doesn't really relate to this journal, I just came across it today and liked it very much. It does make me feel that nothing I'm...
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