Life and death,
Blooming and decay,
at the same moment.

Maybe this reality is more beautiful than artificial perfection.
It does not presume to be invincible.
You cannot defeat it; as it does not try to defend anything
that can die.

Each form it lets you destroy has a firmer one behind it.
Thus, taking reality's side, you grow safer with each loss;
your joy more stable, your tears more pure, the music you hear sweeter.

Hands of gold,
anything he touched came from the gods
he had only to wish it clearly.
But so many veils made those clear moments rare.

Perhaps he lived for just one moment of clarity.
A flower that blooms and withers.
He is only a servant, and his existence is
only for performing one deed with perfection.

I try to change the habit of my mind, in moments of unpleasantness and pleasantness.
In moments of pleasantness I say `may those in suffering also experience such moments of physical and mental pleasantness' and `may I enjoy this moment without getting lost in intoxication as this pleasantness will pass (it is already passing as I write this)' and may I behave with body, speech and mind in a way that will guarantee much more pleasant moments.

Music

The miracle of music, taking you to a higher place, with no effort or wisdom on your part

פה כאבתי

פה חבויה דמעה שעוד לא זלגה

פה בית נשמתי מאחורי דלת סגורה

לכאן אחזור עם אור שישחרר את כולם

אחרי מסע תעתועים מסביב לעולם

ובתוך ראשי

פה הספרים שקראתי בנעוריי על אפלטון

ועל שפינוזה,

מעודדים אותי לפתור מצוקה בעזרת לוגיקה טהורה

הם חיים לצד פנטזיות על שער בלונדיני ועיניים כחולות

וחיוך שמרפא הכל

הם חיים לצד מבוכה של נער

שלא שנון מספיק

לא מגניב בכלל

עם יותר מדי פחד

ויותר מדי פצעי בגרות

הגיע הזמן לפלח את כל אלה באורו הנשגב של הטבע,

ולא רק ללטש את בועתי המטופחת

והמנופחת

My Rainbow

Do you want to see what I discovered, when I was buried underground?

I had no choice but to free my soul. I now live on a rainbow up high in the stars.

I am a god, just a small one, with happiness known to few.

I have a few millions years to rest now. I listen to and make divine music,

where I play not with strings, but with atoms in space. As I make

them dance, colors and sounds and emotions dance.

The other young gods glide by occasionally, to have their divine senses entertained.

They feel all the atoms in their subtle bodies vibrate gently in response to the music.

They pick up not just the pitch of sound , but the timbre, the higher frequencies, the structure over time and space, and they see shapes composed of smaller ones that are in turn composed of smaller ones.. up to a million to trillion levels of compositions according to their faculties. They are absorbed in the richness of their experience of shape and light and vibration of atoms, changing with the music.

We play in creativity exploring the finite but almost countless possibilities of our sensual experience, that smoothly yields to every subtle thought and wish arising in our mind.

When we are tired of playing we rest in the deep bliss which is the fruit of our accumulated purities. Lying down under an eternal non-imposing sun we feel the warmth and lightness,

light as a feather, nothing hard or harsh can touch us.

Our heart beats with contentedness, having reached a resting place after so much wandering, pain and tears.

Peace

Peace be upon to falling brothers.

Peace be upon to shaken mothers.

May heavenly peace fall upon those in agony,

those buried in hell, looking above with despair.

Peace be upon the man I scolded,

whom I mistakenly forgot was my brother.

He too looks at empty skies, and thinks,

`may peace fall upon me'.

I see how my joy is fragile.

I fade away more every time I am separated from it.

May it be an unshakable beam of light!

on which I will rest forever.

Separated from joy, I know one day that will be no more.

For bliss pervades my body more and more.

Buddha and Proofs

It occurred to me that Gotama the Buddha could be viewed as a rigorous mathematician, who while presented with overwhelming evidence for a theorem, still insists to see a formal proof.

Gotama was presented with overwhelming evidence that `life was good': For example, he was given 3 palaces, to optimize the atmospheric conditions according to the season, where all servants\workers were female. But not just materialistically, also spiritually, he reached what was considered in those days the highest mental state - a.k.a the 8th Jhana - a.k.a the base of neither perception or non-perception - which according to the belief of that day, guarantees rebirth in a plane where life lasts trillions and trillions of years (this maybe a pessimistic estimate) and pretty much each moment is full of bliss that is many-fold times greater than the finest sensual experience a human is capable of experiencing.

It striked me as very mathematician-like that in this situation where any `normal' person would be completely satisfied - Gotama asked `well.. still in such a life, can I really be sure there is no suffering at all?'

With a little distance, we're falling apart.

Nothing to hold us together, but our thoughts and words.

They are not as strong as habits, my habit to find comfort within, not

to reach out. Your habit to magnify problems, not ignore them.

No Assumptions

Look at yourself in the mirror, instead of assuming what you will find.

You are not the devil from your worst nightmares,

you are not the disgusting creature you imagine in your most indulgent moments.

Even then you still have some light in your eyes, keeping you human.

waiting

An important object of spiritual practice seems to be staying nice and positive while things are shitty. I view this from a karmic - or the more cooler Pali kammic - view point, as being about not being tempted to sow more bad seeds, because of a present bad harvest. I have been feeling sick and very crappy for a few days now, and find how far back I am in this respect - deteriorating up to cutting in line for the nurse in front of a woman with a crying baby (well it was my turn, but the nurse seemed to think the baby crying gives the mom a right to be first).
But like everything it is just practice and later when I was in line to by a chocolate croissant,
there were no babies in front of me.
Of course, it should not be just repression - but true positivity - in case of repression maybe it is better to yell at old people cutting in line for the doctor.

Silent song you made.
Silent prayer to fade.
Silent time you prayed.

No more songs to sing,
No more time to think,
No more thoughts to face..

Last time to be left behind,
Last mind to carry through time..

Hmm...

No more lies to tell,
No more thoughts to make,
No more emptiness,
No more pain, only rest.

Now only the wise stand,
only warmth, only rest.