Wednesday,
December 23, 2015
Toronto , Ontario
Through Fog
Some devotees came up fromMontreal .
We walked through a misty air. One of the walkers, Marc Andre, remarked, “It’s
like a life, isn’t it, moving through fog?” To that we had a chuckle, while
simultaneously it struck the nerve of reality. The laugh made light of gravity.
There’s a famous line by Ken Kesey, in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” –
“Man, when you lose your laugh, you lose your footing.”
We did our footing, practically, throughRosedale ,
and through what appeared like a mystical mist. We were chanting softly. Only
periodically would we stop or interrupt the chanting.
Tina, who was with us, fell a little behind. Compared to the others, her legs are more tiny. “Tiny Tina”, I thought. Another cause for laughter, but I really had to hold it inside because I didn’t want to disturb. This brahma muhurta hour, the hour at which we’re walking, is very sacred. It is the time before the passions of the day spill out.
And what about this time of the year? It’s rather messy, I would say. You know, that time before Christmas when maddened motorists and shoppers do the squeeze? There’s the squeezing-out of time, the squeezing-out of space, and the squeezing-out of the budget. Peace isn’t coming as it should.
“Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men (and women).” The Earth is tense with threat of terrorism looming in the air. It’s not a laughing matter, rather, it’s one of concern.
Christmas, for a long time, had not been my favorite time of the year. I recall that before becoming a monk, I became quite disappointed with all the commercialism which puts a lot of haze (fog) into the lives of people.
No offense to Jesus, I adore him.
May the Source be with you!
5 km
Through Fog
Some devotees came up from
We did our footing, practically, through
Tina, who was with us, fell a little behind. Compared to the others, her legs are more tiny. “Tiny Tina”, I thought. Another cause for laughter, but I really had to hold it inside because I didn’t want to disturb. This brahma muhurta hour, the hour at which we’re walking, is very sacred. It is the time before the passions of the day spill out.
And what about this time of the year? It’s rather messy, I would say. You know, that time before Christmas when maddened motorists and shoppers do the squeeze? There’s the squeezing-out of time, the squeezing-out of space, and the squeezing-out of the budget. Peace isn’t coming as it should.
“Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men (and women).” The Earth is tense with threat of terrorism looming in the air. It’s not a laughing matter, rather, it’s one of concern.
Christmas, for a long time, had not been my favorite time of the year. I recall that before becoming a monk, I became quite disappointed with all the commercialism which puts a lot of haze (fog) into the lives of people.
No offense to Jesus, I adore him.
May the Source be with you!
5 km
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