Johannes Buchmann
Johannes Buchmann

Karlfried Graf Dürckheim: "Jedes Tun ist rasch und genau: Nur was nottut, sonst nichts! Wasserholen, wenn's brennt, und nichts als das! Schlafen, wenn man schläft, und nichts als das. Alles ist voller Präsenz, hellwach und aus der Mitte heraus, ohne einen Hauch zwischen Denken und Tun. Kein Ver-halten, sondern ein Zulassen des Lebens, das aus der Mitte kommt, unbehindert und leicht wie ein Flügelschlag, zielsicher, wie ein Pfeil, der ins Zentrum trifft, unbeschwert wie der Schritt eines Tänzers, ... präzise wie der Meißelschlag eines Meisters, lösend wie der Frühlingswind und immer durchsättigt von Liebe. Kein Haften, kein Haften, an was es auch sei. Im tiefsten Innern still, auch mitten im Lärm. Jeder Augenblick frisch wie der Tau ...Kraftvolle Gelassenheit, die ein Sterben gelehrt hat, die heitere Klarheit des Sinns, die auch den Unsinn mit einschließt, die glückhafte Geborgenheit in aller Verlassenheit dieser Welt."

 

 

Jack Kornfield, from: A Mind like Sky: Wise Attention, Open Awareness.

Meditation comes  alive through a growing capacity to release our habitual entanglement in the stories and plans, conflicts and worries that make up the small sense of self, and to rest in awareness. In meditation we do this simply by acknowledging the moment-to-moment changing conditions — the pleasure and pain, the praise and blame, the litany of ideas and expectations that arise. Without identifying with them, we can rest in the awareness itself, beyond conditions, and experience what my teacher Ajahn Chah called jai pongsai, our natural lightness of heart. Developing this capacity to rest in awareness nourishes samadhi (concentration), which stabilizes and clarifies the mind, and prajna (wisdom), that sees things as they are.

 

 

The summer day

By Mary Oliver

 

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean-

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

The Journey

By Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save. 

Rainer Maria Rilke

Eines ist nur wahr neben dem anderen, und ich denke immer, die Welt ist geräumig genug vorgesehen, um alles zu erfassen: das, was war, muß nicht von der Stelle geräumt, nur langsam verwandelt werden, so wie das, was sein wird, nicht von den Himmeln fällt im letzten Augenblick, sondern immer schon neben uns, um uns und in unserem Herzen sich aufhält, auf den Wink wartend, der es ins Sichtbare ruft.

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