Brought a tear to my eye, it did. Aye, memories of ancient,drizzeled forests flirted with my mind.
“We have all been here before,…..” is not just a musical metaphor. Our collective lexicon merges with the dreams of Visnu, creating a spectacle of metamorphism, stomping around in a bubble of infinity.

One of many.

@Rosie
Gibran was brilliant, his book The Prophet (which I’m guessing is what you quoted from) is a really enlightened work. Even just the excerpt above needs to be read a few times to be grasped. Hinduism talks about the mists of maya (materialism) which are constantly seeking to envelope us. It’s a very similar concept. You should start your own blog with comments like that!

If you’ll forgive a further bit of ramble, here’s the exerpt from the Gibran poem that this blog reminded me of. It begins half-way through the poem…

And tell me, people of Orphalese, what have you in these houses? And what is it you guard with fastened doors?

Have you peace, the quiet urge that reveals your power?

Have you remembrances, the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind?

Have you beauty, that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain?

Tell me, have you these in your houses?

Or have you only comfort, and the lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest, and becomes a host, and then a master?

Ay, and it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires.

Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron.

It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh.

It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels.

Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning in the funeral.

But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed.

Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast.

It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye.

You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.

You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living.

And though of magnificence and splendour, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing.

For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.

Awesome eh? Some friends have said that this poem is depressing – but I find this uplifting! I’m not sure how it works exactly, but I do know that our essential nature is one of boundlessness. And I wonder whether too much comfort distracts us from our true nature. Can it be coincidence that some of the most spiritually alive cultures are also those in which there is the least amount of physical comfort?

@kirwin
Ha ha I like that statement, if I think about the best things I’ve achieved in my life there was a bit of trepidation before all of them so I’ll remember that next time.

I try to remember that when I’m out of my comfort zone, and feeling a bit sick. I tell myself that I’m growing from the experience…and I do believe that.

I think I would definitely be a better person if I did something that challenges me and, in fact, I feel like I’m doing that right now. I’m not a naturally happy person and I tend to look at the negative aspects of life but I’m dedicating myself to my blog, Positively Present, and to finding ways to embrace and live a happier life. This sounds like a “soft” challenge and it is, but it is definitely making me a better person. Baby steps…

http://positivelypresent.typepad.com