welcoming flies at the picnic


mighty joe henry

 

I don’t call

any song finished if I don’t

think that it somehow is vibrating with

the awareness of how we live in spite of the inevitable.

Which is what all spirituality is, is how do we come into being,

how do we live fully in the constant, conscious knowledge

that we won’t always? How do you invest in the idea

of any real commitment in the face of

everything being finite?

 

…We’re sort of

seduced into thinking that here’s life,

and there’s these bad things that can happen,

obstacles that just fall into your road, as if the obstacle

is not the road. You know? We want to think that all things

being equal, we should be content all the time, and would

be, except for these pesky flies that want to ruin

every picnic. As if that isn’t what

the picnic is.

 

Joe Henry

 

❤️

have a listen to

Welcoming Flies at the Picnic,

it will gladden your

💜

 

there is some sort of spirit

right where you stand

 

We sense that

there is some sort of spirit

that loves birds and animals and the ants —

perhaps the same one who gave a radiance to you

in your mother’s womb. Is it logical you would be walking

around entirely orphaned now? The truth is you turned away

yourself, and decided to go into the dark alone. Now you

are tangled up in others, and have forgotten what

you once knew, and that’s why everything

you do has some weird

failure in it.

 

Kabir

and here

 

be done with knowing

how hard was it to be a baby?

 

Be done

with knowing and

your worries will disappear.

How much difference is there between

yes and no? How much distinction between

good and evil? Fearing what others fear,

admiring what they admire —

nonsense.

 

Conventional

people are jolly and reckless,

feasting on worldly things and carrying on

as though every day were the beginning of spring.

I alone remain uncommitted, like an infant

who hasn’t yet smiled: lost, quietly

drifting, unattached to ideas

and places and

things.

 

Conventional

people hoard more than

they need, but I possess nothing

at all, know nothing at all,

understand nothing

at all.

 

They

are sharp; I am dull.

Like the sea, I am calm and

indifferent. Like the wind I

have no particular

direction.

 

Everyone

else takes his place and

does his job; I alone remain wild

and natural and free. I am different

from the others; I drink

directly from the

Mother.

 

Tao te Ching of Lao Tzu,

Chapter 20

 

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