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Posts Tagged ‘meditasie’

Truth

I went questing for truth in the world like a knight, with set jaw and drawn sword. Ready to scale mountains and slay dragons in their dens. As if truth were a phlegmatic princess, captive, inert and awaiting deliverance. I found it not.

I went haggling for truth in the marketplace like a shrill housewife, beady-eyed and tight of fist. Trading insults and scorn. As if truth were a loaf of bread or a ruby-red pomegranate to bargain for. I found it not.

I went begging for truth like a vagabond, with bare feet, tangled hair and a piteous expression. As if truth were a susceptible kinsman with philanthropic tendencies. I found it not.

So weary with questing, and barter and plea, emptied by failure I called off the search. Leaned my forehead against the window, and looked out on a moonless night, too tired for thought. I watched as the stars came out, like so many lights on so many distant porches. I stood as quiet witness. And I do not know why somehow this — was enough.

Adrift Thomas Moore

Iewers daar buite is die waarheid. Iewers daar buite is dit beter as hier waar ek nou is. Ons storm verbete vorentoe, die toekoms in op soek na geluk. Daar is nie tyd vir rustig wees nie, want dan loop ons dalk die pret mis. Nou en hier is net nooit goed genoeg nie. Nie my huis nie, nie my geld nie, nie die mense naaste aan my nie.

Dan, as ons gelukkig is, dalk met die kop teen die venster soos Pavitha dit so mooi beskryf, of in die lag van `n kind, vind ons dat dit al die tyd genoeg was, dat dit goed is soos dit is. Hier en nou.

 

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Tony Scott

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Kavannah

Ek’s besig om ‘n boek te lees oor die Joodse siening van reinkernasie. Eerder ” ‘n Jood se siening”  siende dat hulle, soos elke anner godsdiens ook onnerhewig is aan vele verskille van siening en benadering.

Ek is nie goed vertroud mettie Joodse tradisie nie, maar die biekie wat ek die afgelope jaar of so wel uitgevind het is baie interessant en sluit goed aan by die “Perenial Philosophy” van Huxley, of te wel die “Hierachy of Being” soos saamgevat deur Wilber.

Innie boek word natuurlik baie Hebreeuse woorde gebruik wat vele opslaan verg om agter hulle kap te kom. Een wat gister aand opgeduik het is kavannah wat innie boek as bedoeling vertaal word, en spesifiek gebruik word met betrekking tot geestelike beoefening, wat in Judaisme gebed beteken. Siende dat bedoeling ‘n uiters belangrike aspek van karma is in Boeddhisme, gaan vors ek kavannah na. So kom ek op ‘n artikel af wat dit anners vertaal: as konsentrasie.

Genugtig. Konsentrasie is een vannie belangrikste tegnieke van meditasie. En die Rabbi wat die artikel geskryf het dui juis twee fassette van konsentrasie aan wat betrokke is by gebed: konsentrasie van denke (verstand) en konsentrasie vannie hart (emosie). Weereens kom dit ooreen met wat gesien word in Boeddhisme as die tweeledige aard van geestelike ontwikkeling: die ontwikkeling van wysheid, en die ontwikkeling van deernis.

‘n Verskil lê wel daarin dat die Joodse benadering gerig is op ‘n “anner” (God) buite mens self, terwyl die Boeddhistiese oogmerk die transendering vannie individuele self is. Ook postuleer Judaisme “siel vonke” wat in die mens gesetel is en wat gesuiwer moet word ten einde die gebrokenheid van die wêreld (/heelal) te herstel, terwyl Boeddhisme duidelik nie ‘n ewige onsterflike siel innie mens (of enige-iets anners) voorstel nie.

Ooreenstemmings en verskille.

Vir die wat sou belangstel: die boek is “Does the Soul Survive?” deur Rabbi Elie Kaplan Spitz (ISBN 978-1-58023-165-7), en die artilkel is by http://www.torah.org/features/firstperson/oz.html#

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Motte

Dit bring ons dan by die nondual tradisies – Adviata, Zen, Tao, Krishnamurti – en die oog van die gees. (Sien ‘n vorige bydrae: Onner 3 Oë)

In kort: die oog van die vlees bring ons kennis van die fisiese wêreld, waarop ons emosioneel reageer; die oog van die verstand bring ons kennis van verbandskappe, waarop ons moreel reageer, en die oog van die gees bring ons kennis van die transendentale, waarop ons met geloof reageer.

Die Westerse wêreldbeskouing was nog altyd vasgevang in die tweeledigheid van bestaan (lewe/dood, mooi/lelik, goed/kwaad, vlees/gees, self/ander). Maar sodanige tweeledigheid, en die onnerliggende kwessies, kan nie deur die oog van die vlees se empiriese metodes of deur die rede van die oog van die verstand opgelos word nie. Ten einde deur die illusie van tweeledigheid (en die gevolglike teenstyd) te breek moet ons die oog van die gees ontwikkel en gebruik.

Solank ons wese omskryf word deur ‘n uitsluitlike identifikasie met die gevoel van ‘n afsonderlike self en verbandskappe gebasseer op ‘n tweeledige beskouing van ons bestaan, solank sal ons vasgevang bly in die tweestryd tussen goed en kwaad. En as mens bewus word van hierdie tweestryd en teleurstelling aan beide kante van die tweeledigheid sien, loop mens die werklike gevaar om in die doolhof van nihilisme vasgevang te word. En tog word die ervaring van so ‘n insig baie keer voorgestel deur die Wysheid Tradisies as ‘n skakel in die ketting van wording. Die naarheid is een tree op die lang pad. En soos die Boeddhiste sê: “This too shall pass.”

Dis hier waar geloof noodsaaklik word – as ‘n vaste vetroue op die dinge wat ons (nog) nie kan sien nie.

Die onstuimige gevoel van ‘n self wat teengestaan word deur ‘n ander kan gekalmeer word deur die onbevangenheid wat deur meditasie teweeg gebring word. In die proses word die benoude self vry gestel sodat die tweeledigheid in duie stort en die tweestryd gewonne gegee word.

Maar moenie ‘n fout maak nie: geen self wil regtig die lig sien nie, want dit verskroei die self tot die nietige brokkie as wat dit is.

Motte om ‘n kers.

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Die tweede boek van Krishnamurti waarna ek in die vorige inskrywing verwys het is Krishnamurti’s Notebook (Harper & Row  1984). Dit is ‘n dagboek wat hy uit die bloute begin skryf het, vir 7 maande daarmee volgehou het, en net so skielik weer laat vaar het. Nooit van tevore, of daarna, het hy ooit ‘n dagboek gehou nie. Uit wat hy geskryf het kan mens aflei dat daar gedurende daardie 7 maande ‘n ernstige verandering in sy bewusyn plaasgevind het.

Al die wysheid tradisies vertel ons van die transendentale, maar die vraag bly altyd of dit moontlik is om dit te bereik / ervaar in ons hedendaagse lewe. Hierdie skrywe van Krishnamurti gee vir ons  ‘n aanduiding dat daar wel meer tot die mens is as net rasionele denke, empiriese ervaring van materialisme, en  onbewustelike emosionele dryf-vere.

Drie repe uit sy dagboek:

The crowded plane [to Madras] was hot and even at that height, about eight thousand feet up, it never seemed to get cool. In that morning plane, suddenly and most unexpectedly the otherness came. It is never the same, always new, always unexpected; the odd thing about it is that thought cannot go back over it, reconsider it, examine it leisurely. Memory has no part in it, for every time it happens it is so totally new and unexpected that it does not leave any memory behind it. For it is a total and complete happening, an event that leaves no record, as memory. So it it always new, young, unexpected. It came with extraordinary beauty, not because of the fantastic shape of clouds and the light in them nor of the blue sky, so infinitely blue and tender; there was no reason, no cause for its incredible beauty and that is why it was beautiful. It was the essence not of all the things put together and boiled down to be felt and seen but of all life that has been and that is and that will be, life without time. It was there and it was the fury of beauty.

It was a splendid night full of storm, life and immensity. All the afternoon the otherness had been coming, in the car and in the street. It was there most of the night and early this morning, long before dawn, when meditation was making its way into the unknown depths and heights; it was there with insistent fury. Meditation yielded to the otherness. It was there in the room, with the branches of that huge tree in the garden; it was there with such incredible power and life that the very bones felt it; it seemed to press right through one and made the body and brain completely motionless. It had been there all night in a mild and gentle way and sleep became a very light affair, but as dawn was coming near, it became a crushing, penetrating power. The body and the brain were very alert, listening to the rustle of leaves and seeing the dawn coming through the dark branches of a tall, straight pine. It had great tenderness and beauty that was past and beyond all thought and emotion. It was there and with it was benediction.

It was a beautiful evening, and there were deep dark shadows of many patterns. The moon was very bright and the shadows were very still and the leaves, washed clean, were sparkling. Walking and talking, meditation was going on below the words and the beauty of the night. It was going on at a great depth, flowing outwardly and inwardly ; it was exploding and expanding. One was aware of it; it was happening; one wasn’t experiencing it, experiencing is limiting; it was taking place. There was no participation in it; thought could not share it for thought is such a futile and mechanical thing anyhow, nor could emotion get entangled with it; it was too disturbingly active for either. It was happening at such an unknown depth for which there was no measurement. But there was great stillness. It was quite surprising and not at all ordinary.

Ons moet net altyd onthou: die beskrywing is nooit dit wat beskryf word nie.

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Krishnamurti se Stilte

Krishnamurti

Krishnamurti (1895 - 1986)

Heel sy lewe as leermeester (‘n beskrywing wat hy self ontken het) het Krishnamurti die bestaande orde teengestaan. Die frustrasie van sy alleenstryd skemer baie keer deur in sy geprekke as ‘n ongeduldigheid met die kortbegrip van ander. Daardie ongeneëntheid met ons eng denkgewoontes en slaafse navolging van die heersende bestel en wêreldbeskouing was sy bekende publieke beeld. Dis asof hy dit gebruik het soos ‘n stormram om deur sy luisteraars se skanse van selfvoldaanheid en beterwetigheid te probeer dring.

Soveel keer vra ons ‘n vraag waaragter ons eie antwoord skuil. En een van sy tegnieke was om daardie voorafbepaalde antwoorde te ontbloot sodat ons bewus kan word van hoe onbewustelik ons lewe. Om hierdie rede het sy manier van redevoering baie keer ‘n ondertoon van spanning en argument gehad, iets wat my altyd op ‘n afstand gehou het.

Gelukkig het ek twee van sy minder bekende boeke raakgeloop. In Meditations (Victor Gollancz 1980) is sy weerbarstige nering steeds sigbaar in dat hy alle stelsels van meditasie teenstaan en veroordeel. Maar hier gee hy baie duidelike beskrywings van wat meditasie vir hom is, in ‘n vorm wat sagter en meer genaakbaar is.

Twee repe uit Meditations.

Once you have laid the foundation of virtue, which is order in relationship, there comes into being this quality of love and of dying, which is all of life; then the mind becomes extraordinarily quiet, naturally silent, not made silent through suppression, discipline and control, and that silence is immensely rich.

Beyond that, no word, no description is of any avail. Then the mind does not enquire into the absolute because it has no need, for in that silence there is that which is. And the whole of this is the benediction of meditation.

After the rain the hills were splendid. They were still brown from the summer sun, and soon all green things would come out. It had rained quite heavily, and the beauty of those hills were indescribable. The sky was still clouded and in the air there was the smell of sumac, sage and eucalyptus. It was splendid to be among them, and a strange stillness possessed you. Unlike the sea which lay far down below you, those hills were completely still. As you watched and looked about you, you had left everything down below in that little house – your clothes, your thoughts and the odd ways of life. Here you were traveling very lightly, without any thoughts, without any burden, and with a feeling of emptiness and beauty. The little green bushes would soon be greener, and in a few week’s time they would have a stronger smell. The quails were calling and few of them flew over. Without knowing it, the mind was in a state of meditation in which love was flowering. After all, only in the soil of meditation can this flower bloom. It was really quite marvelous and, strangely,  all through the night it pursued you, and when you woke, long before the sun was up, it was still there in your heart with its incredible joy, for no reason whatsoever. It was there, causeless, and quite intoxicating. It would be there all through the day without your ever asking or inviting it to stay with you.

(Krishnamurti never talked about himself in the first person, mostly in the impersonal and sometimes, like here, in the third person.)

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