On logic, and the times we catch ourselves being irrational:
“Anything outside yourself, this you can see and apply your logic to it.  But it’s a human trait that when we encounter personal problems, those things most deeply personal are the most difficult to bring out for our logic to scan.  We tend to flounder around, blaming everything but the actual deep-seated thing that’s really chewing on us.”

On intuition, the Invisible Landscape, and the “safety” of plans:
“Muad’Dib could indeed see the Future, but you must understand the limits of this power.  Think of sight.  You have eyes, yet cannot see without light.  If you are on the floor of a valley, you cannot see beyond your valley.  Just so, Muad’Dib could not always choose to look across the mysterious terrain.  He tells us that a single obscure decision of prophecy, perhaps the choice of one word over another, could change the entire aspect of the future. He tells us “The vision of time is broad, but when you pass through it, time becomes a narrow door.”  And always, he fought the temptation to choose a clear, safe course, warning “That path leads ever down into stagnation.”

On evolution and involution:
“Life improves the capacity of the environment to sustain life.”

On the lessons of the space fire:
“…that metaphysical realm where all physical limitations are removed.  And he knew fear at the thought of such a place, because removal of all limitations meant removal of all points of reference.  In the landscape of a myth, he could not orient himself and say “I am I because I am here .”

On the need for dualities:
“When law and duty are one, united by religion, you never become fully conscious, fully aware of yourself.  You are always a little less than an individual.”

On the staleness of life, leading to war and destruction:
“The race of humans had felt its own dormancy, sensed itself grown stale and knew now only the need to experience turmoil in which the genes would mingle and the strong new mixtures survive”

In its place there is now animal time (doing, moving about, preying on others, eating, building, killing, etc. ); plant time (dreaming, languishing, imagining); or “mineral” — that is, mechanical — time: the time of devices such as clocks and computers. What we call logical thinking is often just an internal version of these lifeless machines. Implicitly, we even take pride in the mechanicity of our thinking when, forgetting the metaphorical origin of the usage, we refer to a computer’s “intelligence.” This is mental time, “mineral” in its rigidity and sterility. We lay this logical cement over organic life out there and in ourselves. Carried to its extreme, this becomes the mindset that measures the whole of human life solely by the “bottom line.”

In the Old Testament the lower world is called Sheol. Here there are no images of raging fire. No cacophonous sounds. No sulfurous fumes. Sheol is simply and solely the place of shadows, dark, weak existence, continually fading, ever-paler life. Sheol is the realm of diminishing being.

(from here)

The best way to make this point is to keep tracing the thread from the desire to its resulting actions and their consequences. If the desire causes suffering to others, notice how their corresponding desire for happiness leads them to undermine the happiness you seek. If the desire aims at a happiness based on things that can age, grow ill, die, or leave you, notice how that fact sets you up for a fall. Then notice how the distress that comes from acting on this sort of desire is universal. It’s not just you. Everyone who has acted, is acting, or will act on that desire has suffered in the past, is suffering right now, and will suffer in the future. There’s no way around it.

(from here)

Nine in the third place means:
He who does not give duration to his character
Meets with disgrace.
Persistent humiliation.

If a man remains at the mercy of moods of hope or fear aroused by the outer
world, he loses his inner consistency of character. Such inconsistency
invariably leads to distressing experiences. These humiliations often come
from an unforeseen quarter. Such experiences are not merely effects
produced by the external world, but logical consequences evoked by his own nature.

Six at the top means:
Restlessness as an enduring condition brings misfortune.

There are people who live in a state of perpetual hurry without ever attaining
inner composure. Restlessness not only prevents all thoroughness but actually
becomes a danger if it is dominant in places of authority.

Anywhere you go, there you are.   Don’t seek out adventure for the sake of restlessness and escape…

(from here)

(from here, image links to source)

(from here)

(from here)

(from here)

(from here, where there’s more good stuff)

(found via here)

CHANGING LINE:
Hexagram Sixteen/Line Five

Six in the fifth place means:
Persistently ill, and still does not die.

Here enthusiasm is obstructed. A man is under constant pressure, which prevents him from breathing freely. However, this pressure has its advantage – it prevents him from consuming his powers in empty enthusiasm. Thus constant pressure can actually serve to keep one alive.

J. Krishnamurti in Krishnamurti to Himself: His Last Journal (March 18th, 1983)

(from here)

(from here)

(via here)

There are many ways of cultivating ki, such as yoga, qigong, and tai chi. However, the ideal way to cultivate the all-embracing ki that informs our entire being is through zazen. Zazen is a matter of physically experiencing our essential oneness with the very existence of the universe, and it is through this experience that our ki develops. What is most important is that we partake of ki in its universal expression.

We can cultivate ki creatively as we go about our daily lives. Such cultivation-in-action is called dochu no kufu. However, a living practice depends on a thorough grounding in jochu no kufu, the quiet cultivation of seated meditation. There is no basic separation between “passive” and “active,” of course, but those who are unable to partake of universal essence in sitting will not be able to partake of it in action. The fundamental point in zazen is to experience oneself not as a separate, limited body but as the body of the entire universe.

The body itself is central to zazen. When meditating we regulate the body, regulate the breath, and regulate the mind. Ki fills our physical being to overflowing and expands through the breath to an ever-widening circle of our surroundings until it permeates the universe itself. This activation of our universal mind is the true meaning of “regulating the mind” in zazen.

Is this word “ki,” as you are using it, synonymous with buddha-nature?

To know buddhanature is to experience the way in which our wisdom, our consciousness, and our sensation are one with all that exists. “Buddhanature” is simply a word we use to indicate that universal functioning in which the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, body, and especially mind grasp the whole and not just the part. Buddhanature is recognizing the life of buddha in every creature, in every tree and blade of grass.

Ki is our very essence. Lacking ki, we look with our eyes but cannot see. Lacking ki, we think but cannot understand. To embrace and partake of all existence is possible because ki is the essence of all things. From this, too, manifests the wisdom that recognizes buddhanature.

(from this interview)

A. Yes, but that does not mean that one has to live by the extremes of trying too hard or not trying at all. One has to work with a kind of “middle way,” a complete state of “being as you are. ” We could describe this with a lot of words, but one really has to do it. If you really start living the middle way, then you will see it, you will find it. You must allow yourself to trust yourself, to trust in your own intelligence. We are tremendous people, we have tremendous things in us. We simply have to let ourselves be. External aid cannot help. If you are not willing to let yourself grow, then you fall into the self-destructive process of confusion.

It’s possible that different people use the term “radical identification” in different ways (I hadn’t heard the term before I saw it in your post), but I would say that little Tommy was “radically identified.” And he was suffering. It was an act of compassion to reach out and help him dis-embed from his nightmare. We can learn to do that for ourselves; we can be our own wake-up call. It’s a beautiful thing to wake up and look around, only to find that you are safe and sound in your own living room, surrounded by loved ones. You can still watch the movie, but without the suffering. This is enlightenment, and this is why dis-embeddedness is preferable to radical identification.

(from comments on this article)

emphasis mine, though I’m not sure if its necessarily an “inescapable fact”.  Finally finished MTCB.  All I have to say is Daniel has done a great service with his openness, attention to detail, and illumination of his journey.  If we could all report back as well as he has, we might finally be bale to start understanding this thing.

This comes from a rather scholarly Buddhist Geeks article by John Eberly giving a background on Ramana Maharshi, self-inquiry, and other forms of Indian spirituality.  Well worth the read, if you can summon up the focus to follow the ideas through the thick underbrush of  language.   The above in particular hit me.

For those not inclined to read the article all the way through, this quote, to my mind, states something like: We get confused trying to accumulate facts about things, thinking these “mutable knowledges” as permanent wisdom.  Only when we see these as mutable and not the same as the wisdom we mistake it for, are we able to begin to understand wisdom.

Am I arguing that it is useless to gather knowledge?  No, we’d be in a pretty dark place without knowledge.  The problem is, if we assume some bit of knowledge as being somehow true (ie: as being Wisdom), we stop looking at it. Rather than trying to grasp and hold as much information as we can, it is better to learn how to quickly and accurately perceive information as it flows through our awareness.  We gain nothing but blindness by attempting to hold on it (or for that matter, by attempting to push it away as well).

The process can sometimes be enjoyable. In fact, it would be perfectly innocuous if it didn’t entail so much suffering. The worlds we create keep caving in and killing us. Moving into a new world requires effort: not only the pains and risks of taking birth, but also the hard knocks – mental and physical – that come from going through childhood into adulthood, over and over again.”

(found via Crashingly Beautiful)

(via Jayarava’s Raves)