Tuesday, April 14, 2015

From the Archives

Excerpt from a blog post I wrote back in the spring of 2011:



I love words and expanding my vocabulary. I read something last night which was interesting. The book is called The Inner Voice by C. W. Sanders. It is a small book, more like a poetry chapbook, published in India. I have no idea where I got it. I collect old and unusual books from various places. It's been published 8 different times between the years of 1948 and 1983. I have the 1948 version. The following is from the preface:

"religion may be considered under two headings...esoteric and exoteric. Esoteric religion deals with spirit, bringing it freedom from mind and matter, now and not in the hereafter, its object being the uplift of the soul and its communion with God in this very life on earth. Exoteric religion aims more at ameliorating the condition and better in the status of its followers. It insists on the observance of religions duties, singing hymns, saying fervent prayers to please God, in the expectation of a reward in the hereafter."

"The word religion comes from the root 're' meaning 'back', and 'ligare', meaning 'to bind'...The Way which binds our soul back with God.

It is not my place to say one view point is different than the other, or than one is better than the other. I can, however relate to the esoteric definition. Oh, and I looked of ameliorating. To ameliorate is to make better or more tolerable.

Lastly, here is a beautiful poem by Guru Nanak

What is the good of running to the forest
To find the Lord?
He resides within you
And pervades all your being,
Yet is apart.
God is within you
As the perfume is in the flower,
And the image in the mirror.
He is deep down
At the bottom of your hearts,
There He must be sought.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Thought of the Day


 “When we remember our divinity
and not just our mortality,
 we know that everything that happens
 is a part of life,
and we are part of a divine dance.”


~Jean Shinoda Bolen~



Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Storybook Scene

Visits to my hometown are nostalgic. Memories  from childhood come rushing back;  long summer days swimming and climbing trees, deep white winter days sledding, and the crisp spring and fall months of school.  On one of my recent visits, I walked to the neighborhood where my maternal grandmother lived, past  the road that my siblings and I wandered along  when we went from our house to Grandmother’s. It is no longer a road, but a path. It reminds me of Alice in Wonderland or maybe a scene out of The Lord of the Rings.