Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Naam japan kyu chhod diya - Kabir



Naam japan kyu chhod diya

krodh na chhoda jhoot na chhoda 
satya bachan kyu chhod diya 
jhhute jag mein dil lalchakar
asal vatan kyun chhod diya
kaudi ko to khoob sambhala 
lal ratan kyu chhod diya 
jin sumiran se ati sukh paave 
tin sumiran kyu chhod diya 
khalish ek bhagwaan bharose
tan man dhan kyu na chhod diya 



Mat kar moh tu hari bhajan ko maan le
nayan diye darshan karne ko
shravan diye sun gyan re 
vadan diya hari gun gaane ko 
haanth diye kar daan re 
kahat kabir suno bhai sadho
kanchan nipajat khan mein




http://bhajansagar.blogspot.com/2012/04/sangat-santan-ki-karle-listen-to-sangat.html



Translated by Rabindranath Tagore

baagon naa jaa re naa jaa

Do not go to the garden of flowers!
O friend! go not there;
In your body is the garden of flowers.
Take your seat on the thousand petals of the
 lotus, and there gaze on the infinite beauty.


koi prem ki peng jhulaao re

Hang up the swing of love today!
Hang the body and the mind between the
  arms of the beloved, in the ecstasy of love's joy:
Bring the tearful streams of the rainy clouds
  to your eyes, and cover your heart with
  the shadow of darkness:
Bring your face nearer to his ear, and speak
  of the deepest longings of your heart.
Kabir says: `Listen to me brother! bring the
  vision of the Beloved in your heart.'


Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Tao of Suffering


Once upon a time in ancient China, there was a sage who taught a group of disciples at a remote monastery. They studied teachings from many sources of wisdom, even some that originated from distant lands.



One imporant topic they delved into was human suffering. The disciples were taken by the concept and could not stop talking about it. “Suffering is unavoidable,” one of them declared while others nodded in agreement. “Birth, aging, sickness and death... we suffer through all of them, not to mention the setbacks, heartaches, annoyances and so many other causes of misery.”



This talk had an effect on all of them. They no longer went about their daily activities with good cheer. There was a sense of growing dissatisfaction, and some began to complain about everything.



The sage observed this and decided it was time for a Tao lesson. He gathered the disciples together and said: “I see quite a few moody expressions among you recently. Perhaps we can brighten the mood by taking a break. The nearby lake is particularly beautiful this time of the year. Let us go there.”



The lake was indeed beautiful, filled with pure and pristine water from streams of melted snow. The disciples paid little attention to this natural beauty, for their minds were still preoccupied. The sage knew this would be the case, so he was not surprised when one them finally broke the silence: “Master, what is the Tao perspective on suffering?”



The sage brought out a cup he had prepared, and showed it to all the disciples. They could see that it was half filled with salt. He handed it to the disciple who asked the question and said: “Fill this cup with water from the lake, and stir it well to dissolve all the salt.”



The disciple did as the sage ordered. It took a while, but eventually he was able to get all the salt dissolved. “Good,” the sage approved. “Now take a sip and tell us how it tastes.”



The disciple took a sip and immediately spit it out. “Master, it is much too salty. It tastes horrible!”



“Of course,” the sage smiled. “The salt is just like the suffering we experience in life. It can be extremely difficult to swallow. Even a little sip is horrible.”



“So that is the Tao perspective, Master? That suffering is horrible?” The disciple was puzzled.



Instead of answering, the sage brought out another cup. The disciple looked at it and was startled. The second cup was filled to the brim with salt. As bad as the first cup was, this could only be worse. Would he have to drink it too? He did not know what to think.



“Pour the salt in this cup into the lake,” the sage instructed. “Then use the empty cup to scoop up water from the lake and drink. Drink it all.”



The disciple did as he was told while the other disciples watched him. When he was done, everyone wanted to know: “Well? How was it?”



“Refreshing!” The disciple smiled. “I was a bit thirsty from sipping the first cup. Now my thirst is completely quenched and I feel great!”



“Do you see the difference?” The sage could tell the disciples were beginning to get it. “The ordinary mind is like the first cup. To such a mind, suffering can be almost unbearable. Even a sip of it is horrible, just like you saw for yourselves. This is why the natural response to suffering, for most people, is moodiness and complaints.”



“The Tao mind is like this beautiful lake,” the sage waved his arms at everything around them. “If you can expand your mind into the great dimensions of the Tao, then suffering for you will be like salt poured into the lake. The salt is still the same, but your experience of it will be quite different. Even if you end up with more suffering in your life than other people, it will have no power over you, just as more salt has no effect on the lake. The water remains as pure, pristine and refreshing as ever. Now that is the Tao perspective on suffering!”


http://www.taoism.net/enter.htm

Quotations from Chuang Tzu by Thomas Merton



Chuang Tzu. The Way of Chuang Tzu. Translator/Editor Thomas Merton. New York: New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1965. ISBN 0877736766

Chuang Tzu was a Taoist sage, living sometime before 250 B.C. The book Chuang Tzu is believed to contain both his own writings and writings by others about him and his teachings. The quotations at this site were taken from The Way of Chuang Tzu, which was compiled by Thomas Merton (a Roman Catholic monk) after reading four different translations of Chuang Tzu. It is an abridged version of Chuang Tzu.
As Thomas Merton says in his introductory note, you enter upon the way of Chuang Tzu when you leave all ways and get lost.

  

Uncreated

To name Tao is to name no-thing.
Tao is not the name of (something created).
"Cause" and "chance" have no bearing on the Tao.
Tao is a name that indicates without defining.

Tao is beyond words and beyond things.
It is not expressed either in word or in silence.
Where there is no longer word or silence
Tao is apprehended.
(25:11, p. 226)



Beyond human knowledge and understanding

Great knowledge sees all in one. Small knowledge breaks down into the many.
(2:2, p. 55)

By ethical argument and moral principle the greatest crimes are eventually shown to have been necessary, and, in fact, a signal benefit to mankind.
(9:2, p. 101)




Distinguishing ego from true self

All that is limited by form, semblance, sound, color is called object.
Among them all, man alone is more than an object.
Though, like objects, he has form and semblance,
He is not limited to form.
He is more.
He can attain to formlessness.

When he is beyond form and semblance, beyond "this" and "that,"
where is the comparison with another object?
Where is the conflict?
What can stand in his way?
He will rest in his eternal place which is no-place.
He will be hidden in his own unfathomable secret.
His nature sinks to its root in the One.
His vitality, his power hide in secret Tao.
(19:2, pp 155-156)




Understanding the nature of desire

When he tries to extend his power over objects,
those objects gain control of him.
He who is controlled by objects loses possession of his inner self...
Prisoners in the world of object,
they have no choice but to submit to the demands of matter!
They are pressed down and crushed by external forces:
fashion, the market, events, public opinion.
Never in a whole lifetime do they recover their right mind!...
What a pity!
(23:8 and 24:4, p. 202, 211)

You train your eye and your vision lusts after color.
You train your ear, and you long for delightful sound.
You delight in doing good, and your natural kindness is blown out of shape.
You delight in righteousness, and you become righteous beyond all reason.
You overdo liturgy, and you turn into a ham actor.
Overdo your love of music, and you play corn.
Love of wisdom leads to wise contriving.
Love of knowledge leads to faultfinding.
If men would stay as they really are, taking or leaving these eight delights would make no difference.
But if they will not rest in their right state, the eight delights develop like malignant tumors.
The world falls into confusion.
Since men honour these delights, and lust after them, the world has gone stone-blind.
When the delight is over, they still will not let go of it...
(11:1-2, pp. 103-104)

Love of colors bewilders the eye and it fails to see right.
Love of harmonies bewitches the ear, and it loses its true hearing.
Love of perfumes fills the head with dizziness.
Love of flavors ruins the taste.
Desires unsettle the heart until the original nature runs amok.

These five are enemies of true life.
Yet these are what men of discernment claim to live for.
They are not what I live for.
If this is life, then pigeons in a cage have found happiness!
(12:15, p. 118)




Becoming unattached


Yen Hui:
What is fasting of the heart?
Confucius:
The goal of fasting is inner unity.
This means hearing, but not with the ear;
hearing, but not with the understanding;
hearing with the spirit, with your whole being...
The hearing of the spirit is not limited to any one faculty, to the ear, or to the mind.
Hence it demands the emptiness of all the faculties.
And when the faculties are empty, then the whole being listens.
There is then a direct grasp of what is right there before you
that can never be heard with the ear or understood with the mind.
Fasting of the heart empties the faculties, frees you from limitation and from preoccupation.
Fasting of the heart begets unity and freedom.
Yen Hui:
I see. What was standing in my way was my own self-awareness. If I can begin this fasting of the heart, self awareness will vanish.
(4:1, pp. 75-76)




Forgetting about preferences

Tao is obscured when men understand only one pair of opposites,
or concentrate only on a partial aspect of being.
Then clear expression also becomes muddled by mere wordplay,
affirming this one aspect and denying all the rest.

The pivot of Tao passes through the center where all affirmations and denials converge.
He who grasps the pivot is at the still-point
from which all movements and oppositions can be seen in their right relationship...
Abandoning all thought of imposing a limit or taking sides, he rests in direct intuition.
(2:3, p. 59, p.61)

When we look at things in the light of Tao, nothing is best, nothing is worst.
Each thing, seen in its own light stands out in its own way.
It can seem to be "better" than what is compared with it on its own terms.
But seen in terms of the whole, no one thing stands out as "better" ...
All creatures have gifts of their own...
All things have varying capacities.

Consequently he who wants to have right without wrong, order without disorder,
does not understand the principles of heaven and earth.
He does not know how things hang together.
Can a man cling only to heaven and know nothing of earth?
They are correlative: to know one is to know the other.
To refuse one is to refuse both.
(17:4,5,8, pp. 131-133)

When the shoe fits, the foot is forgotten.
When the belt fits, the belly is forgotten.
When the heart is right, "for" and "against" are forgotten.

No drives, no compulsions, no needs, no attractions:
Then your affairs are under control.
You are a free man.
(19:12, pp. 166-167)

Paraphrased: When Chuang Tzu was about to die, his disciples began planning a splendid funeral. However some disciples expressed concern that given a particular arrangement, birds and kites would eat his remains. Chuang Tzu replied, "Well, above ground I shall be eaten by crows and kites, below it by ants and worms. What do you have against birds?"
(32:14, pp. 233-234)




Not working for personal gain


When an archer is shooting for nothing, he has all his skill.
If he shoots for a brass buckle, he is already nervous.
If he shoots for a prize of gold, he goes blind or sees two targets --
He is out of his mind!
His skill has not changed. But the prize divides him.
He cares. He thinks more of winning than of shooting--
And the need to win drains him of power.
(19:4, p. 158)


The non-action of the wise man is not inaction. It is not studied. It is not shaken by anything. The sage is quiet because he is not moved, not because he wills to be quiet...
Joy does all things without concern. For emptiness, stillness, tranquillity, tastelessness, silence, and non-action are the root of all things.
(13:1, pp. 119, 121)


Prince Wen Hui's cook was cutting up an ox ... The ox fell apart with a whisper. The bright cleaver murmured like a gentle wind. Rhythm! Timing! Like a sacred dance ...

Prince Wen Hui:
Good work! Your method is faultless!

The cook:
Method? What I follow is Tao beyond all methods!
When I first began to cut up oxen I would see before me the whole ox all in one mass. After three years I no longer saw this mass. I saw the distinctions. But now I see nothing with the eye. My whole being apprehends. My senses are idle. The spirit free to work without plan follows its own instinct guided by natural line, by the secret opening, the hidden space, my cleaver finds its own way...

Then I withdraw the blade, I stand still and let the joy of the work sink in. I clean the blade and put it away.


Prince Wan Hui:
This is it! My cook has shown me how I ought to live my own life!
(3:2, pp. 64-67)




Letting go of thoughts

To exercise no-thought and rest in nothing is the first step toward resting in Tao.
To start from nowhere and follow no road is the first step toward attaining Tao.
(22:1, p. 176)

The mind remains undetermined in the great Void.
Here the highest knowledge is unbounded.
That which gives things their thusness cannot be delimited by things.
So when we speak of 'limits', we remain confined to limited things.
The limit of the unlimited is called 'fullness.'
The limitlessness of the limited is called 'emptiness.'
Tao is the source of both.
But it is itself neither fullness nor emptiness.
(22:6, pp. 182-183)




Being humble

If a man is crossing a river and an empty boat collides with his own skiff,
even though he be a bad-tempered man he will not become very angry.
But if he sees a man in the boat, he will shout at him to steer clear.
If the shout is not heard, he will shout again, and yet again, and begin cursing.
And all because there is somebody in the boat.
Yet if the boat were empty, he would not be shouting, and not angry.

If you can empty your own boat crossing the river of the world,
no one will oppose you, no one will seek to harm you....

Who can free himself from achievement, and from fame, descend and be lost amid the masses of men?
He will flow like Tao, unseen, he will go about like Life itself with no name and no home.
Simple is he, without distinction. To all appearances he is a fool.
His steps leave no trace. He has no power. He achieves nothing, has no reputation.

Since he judges no one, no one judges him.
Such is the perfect man:
His boat is empty.
(20:2, 4, pp. 168-171)

The man who has some respect for his person keeps his carcass out of sight, hides himself as perfectly as he can.
(23:2, pp. 187)




Surrendering

If you persist in trying to attain what is never attained (It is Tao's gift),
if you persist in making effort to obtain what effort cannot get,
if you persist in reasoning about what cannot be understood,
you will be destroyed by the very thing you seek.

To know when to stop,
to know when you can get no further by your own action,
this is the right beginning!
(23:3-7, p. 197)

... You never find happiness until you stop looking for it.
My greatest happiness consists precisely in doing nothing whatever that is calculated to obtain happiness:
and this, in the minds of most people, is the worst possible course...

If you ask "what ought to be done" and "what ought not to be done" on earth in order to produce happiness,
I answer that these questions do not have an answer.
There is no way of determining such things.

Yet at the same time, if I cease striving for happiness,
the "right' and the "wrong" at once become apparent all by themselves.

Contentment and well-being at once become possible
the moment you cease to act with them in view,
and if you practice non-doing (wu wei), you will have both happiness and well-being.
(18:1, pp. 140-150)




Seeing the light

Look at this window: it is nothing but a hole in the wall, but because of it the whole room is full of light. So when the faculties are empty, the heart is full of light.
(4:1, pp. 77-78)




Experiencing freedom

The true men of old were not afraid when they stood alone in their views.
No great exploits. No plans.
If they failed, no sorrow.
No self-congratulation in success...

The true men of old knew no lust for life, no dread of death.
Their entrance was without gladness, their exit, yonder, without resistance.
Easy come, easy go.
They did not forget where from, nor ask where to, nor drive grimly forward fighting their way through life.
They took life as it came, gladly;
took death as it came, without care; and went away, yonder. Yonder!

They had no mind to fight Tao.
They did not try by their own contriving, to help Tao along.
These are the ones we call true men.

Minds free, thoughts gone. Brows clear, faces serene.
(6:1, pp. 89-90)

Goods and possessions are no gain in his eyes.
He stays far from wealth and honor.
Long life is no ground for joy, nor early death for sorrow.
Success is not for him to be pround of, failure is no shame.
Had he all the world's power he would not hold it as his own.
If he conquered everything he would not take it to himself.
His glory is in knowing that all things come together in One and life and death are equal.
(12:2, pp. 106-107)

The man in whom Tao acts without impediment harms no other being by his actions
yet he does not know himself to be "kind", to be "gentle"...
(He) does not bother with his own interests and does not despise others who do.
He does not struggle to make money and does not make a virtue of poverty.
He goes his way without relying on others and does not pride himself on walking alone.
While he does not follow the crowd he won't complain of those who do.
Rank and reward make no appeal to him; disgrace and shame do not deter him.
He is not always looking for right and wrong, always deciding "Yes" or "No."
The ancients said, therefore:

The man of Tao remains unknown.
Perfect virtue produces nothing.
"No-Self" is "True-Self".
And the greatest man is Nobody.
(17:3, pp. 137-138)






THOMAS MERTON BIBLIOGRAPHY
by Zos Imos