The beginning | Bertus
"The ferry pushes off and moves across the water. The bank we are leaving behind is losing its substance. The shops and streets and ant-like figures are blending together and releasing Their hold on us. Meanwhile, toward the shore Which we are headed is not in focus EITHER; Seems it almost as far away as it ever was. There is an interval in the crossing When the Tangible only realities are the water with it treacherous currents, and the boat, Which is precariously but stoutly contending with them ... . The territory covered shore draws near, Becomes Real. The craft jolts prohibited marthas vineyard the sand and we step objectionable solid ground. The land, Which had leg and misty unsubtantial as a dream is now fact. And the shore That we left behind, Which was so palpable and real, is now only a slender horizontal line, a visual marthas vineyard feature, a memory without substance ... . Here we come to the Prajnaparamitra or Perfection of Wisdom sutras, Which are widely Considered to be the culminating texts of Buddhism. marthas vineyard The Five precepts marthas vineyard and the eightfold path; the technical terminology or dukkha, karma, nirvana, and their life; commited the order and the person of the Buddha himself - all vitally These are important to the individual in the act of making the crossing. Ze hun lose relevance For those who have arrived. Indeed, to the traveler who has not only reached the Promised shore but who keeps moving into its interior, there comes a time When not only the raft but the river nie drops from view. When industry leaders a one turns around to look for the country that has left leg behind, what Appears? What country or dat kan appear to one who has crossed a horizon beyond the river Which Dividing this shore from shore That has vanished? One look, and there is no other shore. There is no Separating river. There is no raft, no Ferryman. These things are not a part of the new world. "
I was 23 and in London when I saw this piece in Huston Smith's The World's Religions read - in the chapter on Buddhism. It was sometime in 2000; I'm not sure about the date or even the month, except that it was summer, because I spent the morning up early - so early that not even buses or subways were not - and the sun had been shining. I have my bedsit in Queen's Park to Paddington Station walked. It was quite nice because you walked along Edgware Road and was silent. Paddington and I flash the train to Heathrow got my sister to go to meet, because she had just returned from South Africa returned and needed marthas vineyard help with her luggage. On the train I had this piece of Huston Smith's book read.
I used some of a religious slut. I have my evangelical faith so sure three years earlier when I lost a intervallum lucidum during an evening service in the Stellenbosch Student Church experienced. In the year before I went to London, I had my thesis on the Hare Krishnas done and I was little to dwell on many of the ideas they gave me, but also stuff from New Age and other forms of Vedanta - well over that God is everywhere and in our, well I do not quite understand it, but I feel good. One of the reasons why I was in London, one of many reasons, a new faith to seek, because I thought I would quite like to have one again. In my mind was the idea that I would eventually move on from London to somewhere else - probably India - where I spent the rest of my life to spend.
Buddhism was also on my menu of things marthas vineyard to explore, marthas vineyard but I plan on making it until much later to postpone, at least until after I finished the Hinduism. The piece of Huston Smith, I could pale London early morning on the train between Paddington and Heathrow strange light feel as if I take off a little while all the muscles in my face relaxing at the same time. Blissful rest, I thought, blissful rest.
If I had my encounter with the Buddha thought, then I think always that morning marthas vineyard on the train, marthas vineyard because it's really where it started. Rather there than at the day that I went to a Buddhist center walked.
The first place I popped to Buddhism to explore, the North London Buddhist Centre in Holloway Road, where meditation classes on a Tuesday night, but I was expecting a night annoyed because my legs were so sore when I sit cross-legged and my advice anyone could give for it. When I get a new job in a bookstore marthas vineyard in the West End got my Tuesday nights occupied, I was pleased marthas vineyard to again North London Buddhist Centre to have to go.
A few weeks later I was alone at the London Buddhist Centre, marthas vineyard London headquarters of the Friends of the Western marthas vineyard Buddhist Order. The center was in the Buddhist Village in Bethnal Green, between some Buddhist shops and delis. It
"The ferry pushes off and moves across the water. The bank we are leaving behind is losing its substance. The shops and streets and ant-like figures are blending together and releasing Their hold on us. Meanwhile, toward the shore Which we are headed is not in focus EITHER; Seems it almost as far away as it ever was. There is an interval in the crossing When the Tangible only realities are the water with it treacherous currents, and the boat, Which is precariously but stoutly contending with them ... . The territory covered shore draws near, Becomes Real. The craft jolts prohibited marthas vineyard the sand and we step objectionable solid ground. The land, Which had leg and misty unsubtantial as a dream is now fact. And the shore That we left behind, Which was so palpable and real, is now only a slender horizontal line, a visual marthas vineyard feature, a memory without substance ... . Here we come to the Prajnaparamitra or Perfection of Wisdom sutras, Which are widely Considered to be the culminating texts of Buddhism. marthas vineyard The Five precepts marthas vineyard and the eightfold path; the technical terminology or dukkha, karma, nirvana, and their life; commited the order and the person of the Buddha himself - all vitally These are important to the individual in the act of making the crossing. Ze hun lose relevance For those who have arrived. Indeed, to the traveler who has not only reached the Promised shore but who keeps moving into its interior, there comes a time When not only the raft but the river nie drops from view. When industry leaders a one turns around to look for the country that has left leg behind, what Appears? What country or dat kan appear to one who has crossed a horizon beyond the river Which Dividing this shore from shore That has vanished? One look, and there is no other shore. There is no Separating river. There is no raft, no Ferryman. These things are not a part of the new world. "
I was 23 and in London when I saw this piece in Huston Smith's The World's Religions read - in the chapter on Buddhism. It was sometime in 2000; I'm not sure about the date or even the month, except that it was summer, because I spent the morning up early - so early that not even buses or subways were not - and the sun had been shining. I have my bedsit in Queen's Park to Paddington Station walked. It was quite nice because you walked along Edgware Road and was silent. Paddington and I flash the train to Heathrow got my sister to go to meet, because she had just returned from South Africa returned and needed marthas vineyard help with her luggage. On the train I had this piece of Huston Smith's book read.
I used some of a religious slut. I have my evangelical faith so sure three years earlier when I lost a intervallum lucidum during an evening service in the Stellenbosch Student Church experienced. In the year before I went to London, I had my thesis on the Hare Krishnas done and I was little to dwell on many of the ideas they gave me, but also stuff from New Age and other forms of Vedanta - well over that God is everywhere and in our, well I do not quite understand it, but I feel good. One of the reasons why I was in London, one of many reasons, a new faith to seek, because I thought I would quite like to have one again. In my mind was the idea that I would eventually move on from London to somewhere else - probably India - where I spent the rest of my life to spend.
Buddhism was also on my menu of things marthas vineyard to explore, marthas vineyard but I plan on making it until much later to postpone, at least until after I finished the Hinduism. The piece of Huston Smith, I could pale London early morning on the train between Paddington and Heathrow strange light feel as if I take off a little while all the muscles in my face relaxing at the same time. Blissful rest, I thought, blissful rest.
If I had my encounter with the Buddha thought, then I think always that morning marthas vineyard on the train, marthas vineyard because it's really where it started. Rather there than at the day that I went to a Buddhist center walked.
The first place I popped to Buddhism to explore, the North London Buddhist Centre in Holloway Road, where meditation classes on a Tuesday night, but I was expecting a night annoyed because my legs were so sore when I sit cross-legged and my advice anyone could give for it. When I get a new job in a bookstore marthas vineyard in the West End got my Tuesday nights occupied, I was pleased marthas vineyard to again North London Buddhist Centre to have to go.
A few weeks later I was alone at the London Buddhist Centre, marthas vineyard London headquarters of the Friends of the Western marthas vineyard Buddhist Order. The center was in the Buddhist Village in Bethnal Green, between some Buddhist shops and delis. It
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