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I’ve posted a new page on the “animal mind”

Further musings on the Animal Mind : self awareness

http://www.normanallan.com/Sci/animal%20mind%203.htm

 

do take a look

 

Untitled: Three young women…


Three young women,    girls,
tees and jeans,    arms raised in that infamous salute
celebrating the murder of millions…    and I’m stopped.
Yes, they were teased before teasing, abused before abusing,
and love gets me where?
Shedding a tear in this Instagram world.     

The Posthumous Myth: “Like the artists who is only recognized after their death!”
How many times have we heard, said, and accepted this stereotype, often offered as a consolation for our lack of success. But, the last time I heard it, I stopped, and thought: “Who, besides Van Gogh? Hmm?”

So today I asked a very knowledgeable friend. And there are, it seems, many many French writers who were only discovered after they died. Ah, but this is not rue for the major Russian, German, English and American writers. It is just the French writers, and Van Gogh.

The artist discovered posthumously is an outlier, an exception to the rule.

 

 

Michael asked me to enquire about one of the great Buddhist mysteries: the teachings on “emptiness”. Stanley referred me to the doctrine of the three bodies.

Wikisays: a Buddha has three bodies (trikāya)

  1. The Dharmakāya or “Truth body” which embodies the very principle of enlightenment and knows no limits or boundaries;
  1. TheSambhogakāya  or “Bliss body”, a clear light manifestation; (Stanley says it is the “rainbow body” {not the clear light!})
  2. TheNirmāṇakāya, the “..” or “form body”,  which manifests in time and space.

The dharma body, the true body, is limitless and boundless :  I think, with a relatively easy pirouette of the mind, we can see an equivalence of the dharma body with “the void”, emptiness, nothingness (in this everythingness).

The bliss body, rainbow body, because it the “self existent light”, because it is flowing (every changing, impermanent), one might see that as gone (gatẽ) and therefore “empty”, void.

The manifest body: here I am going to refer us to my poem “three thought: in search of the mind” which discusses how things exist in one of three “quantum” phases – (a) the phase of probability (wave function) boundless, (c) the measured, observed, manifest, which is gone! which is “historic”, and (b) the transition between these two, the “collapse” of the “wave form”, which, I think, as we try to wrap our minds round that one, we might see as “not unlike” nothingness, emptiness, the void (note: Orwell has cautions against this phrase “not unsomething” as essentially empty!).

So the Buddha (what we all are, potentially) is, in one aspect, “limitless” :boundless”, and, in its other aspects, “gone”! (Tathageta : one who is gone).

gatê gatê paragatê, parasamgatê, boddi swaha :
gone, gone, really gone, gone way beyond,
“boddi swaha”? oh, don’t get me started.

I’ve posted an “essay” on matrilineal as against patrliineal societies (and the craziness all around us) at matriliny / partiarchy. Sane as against malignant societies.  (Please tell me if it is too terse!)

when Lucky met Chase

when Lucky met Chase

 

 

when my dog Lucky met Chase
they rolled in the hay
it was one of those
where you been!  there you are!  days
born in the same barn

 

me   I’m always looking for that friend
and sometimes believe I’ve found them
falling in love    loosing my heart
she let me believe    that she welcomed my courtship
ah with the intimacy of cats and babies
she was “so cute”   “exactly”
and I saw all my life as a tempering
for the butterfly heart
the webbing between the cat’s toes
if this is home I’m healed
why would the spirits send such signs
if she weren’t mine

 

when Lucky met Chase
down on the boardwalk
they had their “pronto” moment
they nuzzled    they rolled
they there you are   corazon
there you are dear

they’ve met again twice since
Lucky and Chase
they’ve sniffed and wagged and walked

arriving at her door
I’d wondered    each time
what reality would meet me
is she that good friend of mine
oh webbing between cat’s toes
and I dreamed  baby knows
everything
here’s everything
but wait
wait at the gate

 

walking my dogs, that’s Lucky and Rita, walking the dogs through the quarry, the meadow space, they hunt mice. It seems the mice sometimes make their nests at the surface.  The dogs wag their tails enthusiastically as they pull the nests apart, and sometimes snack on babies. Then I’ll avoid the quarry for a few weeks.  I’m not heartless.

 

yeah I’m angry    of course
I feel teased    by promise on promise
I do try to wait on the measure
of my September days
grateful    but I’m bitter
the decades run
I thought she was my Chase

 

babe    whose going to fill your book
that was the gold ring
grab it
darn

 

walking the dogs in the quarry meadow
again waiting her call
one more hello
goodbye
not her dude   her dupe
so I’ll leave her with my love
my flowers    and my CDs

 

I’m back in the quarry arguing with fate
my life is little things
and I’m not enjoying the little things right
Rita  my beagle’s  cuteness
Lucky  my blue healer’s  smile
these things must now suffice
my heart has hardened since last night
we’ve come to hunt the little mice

 

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