General Discussion everything and anything related to Integral Spiritual Center. ~Please enter this forum consciously. May the next words out of your mouth (and into this forum) be from your Highest Self as you understand it.en-USCommunityServer 2.0 (Build: 60217.2664)Re: The Spirit of the Season, 27 Dec 2006 21:09:42 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17265pattye0

Big Smile [:D]Dear Mascha, JW and Nomali:  Thank You so very much for the lovely pictures and thoughts for my birthday.  It meant so much as this just happens to be one of those years when we are all having different problems getting things together.  I understand that and treat myself nice but I was not prepared for how much I needed those thoughts and love coming through cyberspace.

Most of us are into caretaking of some kind and I am slow to know when I need .

I had an eye operation last year and the doc kept saying. "don't move sweetheart- now darlin stay still - look at the light  I will do the moving.  OK darlin you are doing good.  Yes, sweetheart that is fine."  He was not being cute like some of the rednecks (tho they are usually OK).  It was real sincerity.  And I just melted and my body was so relaxed.  Later I gushed all over him about his bedside manners.  The next time, I tried to make up for the gushing and said, "I know why you were so good with the bs manners.  It would not be too good if you said, "OOPS]smile. Don' know how to get that.

And so I melted once again when I got your good wishes.

I was thrilled.   Much Love    Pattye.

Re: The Spirit of the Season, 27 Dec 2006 20:56:01 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17264pattye0

Nomali:   Meant to tell you.  The "Mission" is on my favorites list.  I tried to get it some time ago and it was not available and I think the Blockbuster guy told me he could not get it.  So many images stay in my mind.  The violin floating in the water at the end.  Climbing that hill with tin cans and junk in a bag for pennance.  I thought how we all maybe just see what that is like.  Or at least take our garbage out and dump it somewhere without toxifying everything.  New word.  I am going to check on line and see if I can find a copy.  I doubt my kids and grands have seen it. Watched "Crash" with oldest grandson before Christmas and what a movie that was.

Later Pattye

Re: The Spirit of the Season, 24 Dec 2006 21:39:15 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17134balder0

Two Merton poems in the spirit of the season...

A Christmas Card - Written in 1947

When the white stars talk together like sisters
And when the winter hills
Raise their grand semblance in the freezing night,
Somewhere one window
Bleeds like the brown eye of an open force.

Hills, stars,
White stars that stand above the eastern stable.

Look down and offer Him.
The dim adoring light of your belief.
Whose small Heart bleeds with infinite fire.

Shall not this Child
(When we shall hear the bells of His amazing voice)
Conquer the winter of our hateful century?

And when His Lady Mother leans upon the crib,
Lo, with what rapiers
Those two loves fence and flame their brillancy!

Here in this straw lie planned the fires
That will melt all our sufferings:
He is our Lamb, our holocaust!

And one by one the shepherds, with their snowy feet,
Stamp and shake out their hats upon the stable dirt,
And one by one kneel down to look upon their Life.


The Holy Child's Song - Written in 1944

When midnight occupied the porches of the Poet's reason
Sweeter than any bird
He heard the Holy Child.

"When My kind Father, kinder than the sun,
With looks and smiles bends down
And utters My bodily life,
My flesh, obeying, praises Heaven like a smiling cloud.
Then I become the laughter of the watercourses.
I am the gay wheat fields, the serious hills:
I fill the sky with words of light, and My incarnate songs
Fly in and out the branches of My childish voice
Like thrushes in a tree.

And when My Mother, pretty as a church,
Takes Me upon her lap, I laugh with love,
Loving to live in her flesh, which is My house-and full of
(Because the sky My Spirit enters in at all the windows)
O, then what songs and what incarnate joys
Dance in the brightest rays of My childish voice!

In winter when the birds put down their flutes
And wind plays sharper than a fife upon the icy rain,
I sit in this crib,
And laugh like fire, and clap My golden hands:
To view my friends the timid beasts-
Their great brown flanks, muzzles and milky breath!

Therefore come, shepherds, from your rocky hill,
And bend about My crib in wonder and adore My joy.
My glances are as good as wine.
The little rivers of My smile
Will wash away all ruins from your eyes,
As I lift up My hands,
As white as blackthorn blossoms,
And charm and kiss you with My seven sacraments.

This seeming winter is your spring
When skies put off their armor:
Because My Heart already holds
The secret mortal wound,
By which I shall transform all deserts into garden-ground:
And there the peaceful trees,
All day say credos, being full of leaves -
And I will come and be your noon-day sun,
And make your shadows palaces of moving light:
And you will show Me your flowers."

When the midnight occupied the porches of the Poet's reason
Sweeter than any bird
He heard the Holy Child.


Re: The Spirit of the Season, 24 Dec 2006 09:27:26 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17113jikishin0 movie, The Mission, happens to have a cameo appearence of Fr. Dan Berrigan, who Br. David mentioned in one of the released sessions of the '06 ISC Contemplative Christianity event. The best close-up took place in a conoe, if i recall. Re: The Spirit of the Season, 24 Dec 2006 07:32:56 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17111maryw0

I love that movie, Nomali. Perhaps it's time to rent it again!


Re: The Spirit of the Season, 24 Dec 2006 03:38:07 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17102perera0

In the Spirit of the Season, I wish we could all get together and watch the old 1986 movie The Mission, Starring: Robert De Niro and Jeremy Irons. Well, it is terribly sad but oh, it is so beautiful.

I am right now listening to its sound track. It has been a while. Stunning!



Re: The Spirit of the Season, 24 Dec 2006 03:28:16 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17099perera0 think you might have to click on image because it is showing up squished ! Re: The Spirit of the Season, 24 Dec 2006 03:15:50 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17098perera0

Pattye Dearest,

I lit a candle for you! Happy Belated Birthday!!!

Smile [:)] Cool [H] Angel [A] Party!!! [<:o)] Beer [B] Music [8] Pizza [pi] Drinks [D] Gift [G] Cake [^] Right Hug [}]



Re: The Spirit of the Season, 23 Dec 2006 11:34:28 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17063jwcargile0 both...Great!Big Smile [:D] I bow to your presence in life. Merry Christmas and Happy belated Birthday, PattyeRe: The Spirit of the Season, 23 Dec 2006 01:53:59 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17025Mascha0, I hope it's not too late to say Happy Birthday to you. Four people I know have been born on this day - and they're all exceptional beings, each in their own way.

And here is a lotus flower, especially for you:

______click on pic_______
Re: The Spirit of the Season, 22 Dec 2006 23:48:33 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:17021pattye0

Dear jwcargile"  Happy Birthday Early!!!  I thought I would wait but may forget.  My birthday is today and is easily forgotten.  I have had some great birthdays tho.

So, in case you have suffered from the same problem or people giving you a gift that says, "Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday" from,  I wanted to say have a wonderful Birthday on January 5, 2007      Pattye

Re: The Spirit of the Season, 21 Dec 2006 13:20:42 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:16945jwcargile0 Yogananda, Founder "May the Christmas spirit you feel not end with today; rather may it be with you every night as you meditate. Then in the silence of your own mind, as you drive away all restless thoughts, Christ Consciousness will come." Yogananda for December 25th From his Spiritual Diary. We both share the same birth date: January 5.Re: The Spirit of the Season, 21 Dec 2006 10:35:00 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:16939maryw0

Here's another Inuit story, told by Mary Uukalat -- kind of long ... but very much in the spirit of the season.

"Skeleton Woman"

She had done something of which her father disapproved, although no one any longer remembered what it was. But her father had dragged her to the cliffs and thrown her over and into the sea. There, the fish ate her flesh away and plucked out her eyes. As she lay under the sea, her skeleton turned over and over in the current.

One day a fisherman came fishing, well, in truth many came to this bay once. But this fisherman had drifted far from his home place, and did not know that the local fishermen stayed away, saying this inlet was haunted.

The fisherman's hook drifted down through the water, and caught, of all places, the Skeleton Woman's rib cage. The fisherman thought, "Oh, now I've really got a big one! Now I really have one!" In his mind he was thinking of how many people this great fish would feed, how long it would last, how long he might be free from the chore of hunting. And as he struggled with this great weight on the end of the hook, the sea was stirred to a thrashing froth, and his kayak bucked and shook, for she who was beneath struggled to disentangle herself. And the more she struggled, the more she tangled in the line. No matter what she did, she was inexorably dragged upward, tugged up by the bones of her own ribs.

The hunter had turned to scoop up his net, so he did not see her bald head rise above the waves, he did not see the little coral creatures glinting in the orbs of her skull, he did not see the crustaceans on her old ivory teeth. When he turned back with his net, her entire body, such as it was, had come to the surface and was hanging from the tip of his kayak by her long front teeth.

"Agh!" cried the man, and his heart fell into his knees, his eyes hid in terror on the back of his head, and his ears blazed bright red. "Agh!" he screamed, and knocked her off the prow with his oar and began paddling like a demon toward the shoreline. And not realizing she was tangled in the line, he was frightened all the more for she appeared to stand upon her toes while chasing him all the way back to shore. No matter which way he zigged his kayak, she stayed right behind, and her breath rolled over the water in clouds of steam, and her arms flailed out as if to snatch him down into the depths.

"Aggggghhhh!" he wailed as he ran aground. In one leap he was out of his kayak, clutching his fishing stick and running, and the coral-white corpse of Skeleton Woman, still snagged in the fishing line, bumpety-bumped behind right after him. Over the rocks he ran and she kept right up. Over the meat laid out to dry he ran, cracking it to pieces as his mukluks bore down.

Throughout it all she kept right up, in fact grabbed some of the frozen fish as she was dragged behind. This she began to eat, for she had not gorged in a long, long time. Finally, the man reached his snowhouse and dove right into the tunnel and on hands and knees scrabbled his way into the interior. Panting and sobbing he lay there in the dark, his heart a drum, a mighty drum. Safe at last, oh so safe, yes safe, thank the gods, Raven, yes, thank Raven, yes, and all-bountiful Sedna, safe ... at ... last.

Imagine when he lit his whale oil lamp, there she--it--lay in a tumble upon his snow floor, one heel over her shoulder, one knee inside her rib cage, one foot over her elbow. He could not say later what it was, perhaps the firelight softened her features, or the fact that he was a lonely man. But a feeling of some kindness came into his breathing, and slowly he reached out his grimey hands and, using words softly like mother to child, began to untanble her from the fishing line.

"On, na, na, na." First he untangled the toes, then the ankles. "Oh, na, na, na." On and on he worked into the night, until dressing her in furs to keep her warm, Skeleton Woman's bones were all in the order a human's should be.

He felt into his leather cuffs for his flint, and used some of his hair to light a little more fire. He gazed at her from time to time as he oiled the precious wood of his fishing stick and rewound the gut line. And she in the furs uttered not a word--she did not dare--lest this hunter take her out and throw her down to the rocks and break her bones to pieces utterly.

The man became drowsy, slid under his sleeping skins, and soon was dreaming. And sometimes as humans sleep, you know, a tear escapes from the dreamer's eye; we never know what sort of dream causes this, but we know it is either a dream of sadness or longing. And this is what happened to the man.

The Skeleton Woman saw the tear glisten in the firelight, and she became suddenly sooooo thirsty. She tinkled and clanked and crawled over to the sleeping man and put her mouth to his tear. The single tear was like a river and she drank and drank and drank until her many-years-long thirst was slaked.

While lying beside him, she reached inside the sleeping man and took out his heart, the mighty drum. She sat up and banged on both sides of it: Bom, Bomm! . . . Bom, Bomm!

As she drummed, she began to sing out "Flesh, flesh, flesh! Flesh, flesh, flesh!" And the more she sang, the more her body filled out with flesh. She sang for hair and good eyes and nice fat hands. She sang the divide between her legs, and breasts long enough to wrap for warmth, and all the things a woman needs.

And when she was all done, she also sang the sleeping man's clothes off and crept into his bed with him, skin against skin. She returned the great drum, his heart, to his body, and that is how they awakened, wrapped one around the other, tangled from their night, in another way now, a good and lasting way.

The people who cannot remember how she came to her first ill-fortune say she and the fisherman went away and were consistently well fed by the creatures she had known in her life under water. The people say that it is true and that is all they know.



Re: The Spirit of the Season, 20 Dec 2006 02:47:58 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:16866maryw0

Smile [:)] Nothing at all "post-metaphysical" about The Nativity Story, but it was full of beautiful images, such as this one ...


Re: The Spirit of the Season, 17 Dec 2006 03:58:07 GMTee28e699-b6ce-41f9-9b68-f4b3d2b14a5b:16705maryw0

A game of virtual dreidel, anyone?