The palm at the end of the mind, beyond the last thought, rises in the bronze distance. A gold feathered bird sings in the palm, without human meaning, without human feeling, a foreign song. You know then that it is not the reason that makes us happy or unhappy. The bird sings. Its feathers shine. The palm stands on the edge of space. The wind moves slowly in the branches. The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
i-ching 25
The hallmark of innocence is a willingness to treat all creatures with compassion and respect.
Those who possess a pure heart are best guided by their instincts and intuition. Thinking too much severs links with the guidance of the heart.
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