Ruminating On Rumi

As you start to walk out on the way, the way appears.

~ M. Rumi

Friday, October 28, 2011

The Way

Starting a new way, The Way face book page. The Way is epitomized by the Rumi quote, "If you start to walk out on the way, the way appears." The Way is unwayed in the wonderful words, only pointers, in the Tao Te Ching, "The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao" (Tao means the Way) This is the Way. In a practical, relative sense we are not only on the Way but we are the way. The way of the Way is waking up to it. The way is being okay with our inherent humanness, our complexities, our simplicities, our conditionings, all senses, all forms that guide us to the "knowing" that we are all of the formless.

At the Victoria Zen Centre, we chant, "Affirming Faith Mind" with the first two lines as "The great way is not difficult for those who do not pick and choose. When love and hate both disappear the way stands clear and undisguised."
Byron Katy writes, "I'm a lover of reality. When I argue with What Is, I lose,
but only 100% of the time." This is what not picking and choosing means, what is is.
Eckhart Tolle reminds us in "The Power Of Now", "Nothing ever happened in the past; it happened in the Now. Nothing will ever happen in the future; it will happen in the Now". Now is the Way.

In Kurt Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse Five" he continuously used the now famous words, "So it goes".  So it goes is also the Way.

The Mary Oliver poem, "Where Does The Temple Begin, Where Does It End? is the Way.


Where Does the Temple Begin,
Where Does It End?

There are things you can’t reach.  But
you can reach out to them, and all day long.

The wind, the bird flying away.  The idea of God.

And it can keep you as busy as anything else, and happier.

The snake slides away; the fish jumps, like a little lily,
out of the water and back in; the goldfinches sing
from the unreachable top of the tree.

I look; morning to night I am never done with looking.

Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
as though with your arms open.

And thinking: maybe something will come, some
shining coil of wind,
or a few leaves from any old tree –
they are all in this too.

And now I will tell you the truth.
Everything in the world
comes.

At least, closer.

And, cordially.

Like the nibbling, tinsel-eyed fish; the unlooping snake.
Like goldfinches, little dolls of gold
fluttering around the corner of the sky

of God, the blue air.

~ Mary Oliver ~
(Why I Wake Early)


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