Concentration, Meditation, and Prayer

Next meeting: May 25, 2015 5:30pm-7pm

 Concentration, Meditation, and Prayer:
       Recipes for serving Spirit
(No fees, no offerings, no proselytizing)

                                             2nd and 4th Mondays, 5:30-7pm

370 Royal Avenue
Simi Valley CA 93065

Please feel welcome to arrive and to leave at any time during the 90 minute meeting.

For the most part, the time we share serves to promote silent sitting, introspection, and intuitive insight among persons of good will. Techniques and skillsets from all traditions and direct personal experience are encouraged.

To aid that process the first and last 15 minutes may be facilitated by guest speakers.

There is never a fee of any kind, nor are offerings accepted, nor is there ever any proselytizing.

(Oh, and do please consider bringing with you–and then taking home as you leave–any photo, object, book or other special item which you find valuable or sacred, so it may be placed on our mutual table to absorb and resonate our group’s well-wishes.)

Chairs available; cushion suggested

Readings for your consideration: http://www.meetup.com/Simi-Valley-CA-Concentration-Meditation-and-Prayer/files/

*+*

Other Details, Files, Conversations via Meetup:

                                            http://bit.ly/1FXgCLW

Guy a tree flowering

“The most valuable lesson I have learned is that Spirit does not want money or power or fame; Spirit wants good company* ~@guyatree

 *+*

Link

Straddling two worlds…

Sai bhakthas sometimes sing the English bhajan: “Delusions are many, but underneath them all there’s one reality…”

To discern each of the many delusions arising in one’s life can require a lot of energy and doubt– yet discerning the
basis of all delusion may occur in an instant. Integrating that realization, though… that may take a while.

(Living in two worlds is not easy, not for a while, you know.)

Indeed the clear distinction between delusion, hysteria, and direct experience of reality is a skill-set which aspirants
within all religions address. Often that discipline begins with the development of (‘to be graced with’) attention,
humility, and devotion–

but not all express that in the same way. Some are more lucid, others more poetic, and some are silent.

One person whom I believe is maturing in the discernment of delusion from reality (meaning to live with both feet on the
ground yet with heart in heaven) is the world-renowned businessman and oft-recognized Sai devotee, Isaac Tigrett.

I first met Isaac in 1976 in Prashanthi, a time in which he was shown to be most generous and most serious in his devotion.
(This was during the long period in which Swami did not speak to him.) Over the next four decades We met at Sai functions,
but we never became close friends, Still, as Isaac is famous I have been able to hear in his own words, via Youtube and
other interviews, how he discerns delusion from reality.

It seems to me that Isaac is at the point now where he no longer sees a difference between the inner Swami and the outer
Form, in that he no longer mentions whether “Swami said to me” means Swami spoke to him in person, or Swami spoke in
spirit, or dreams, or intuition spoke to him.

Too, I note that nowadays Isaac has his own time-frame. (“Jesus lived two hundred twelve thousand years ago,” and “Mohammed
died nine hundred years ago,” and “Swami died at the exact moment Jesus died on the cross.”) These statements, together
with his obvious good-will and humour, suggest Isaac is straddling two worlds.

Because I myself am stumbling among the worlds, I ask my buds to watch this video with care and affection, and to overlook
verbal gaffes such as “Bhavagad Gita.” (Living in two worlds, is not easy.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6XJ1yRsmtU4#t=236

 

@guyatree

130930

WordPress and Gravatar

When WordPress began inserting advertising in my blog there, I decided not to renew the domain with WordPress (guyatree.com) all the while thinking my WordPress account would revert to guyatree.wordpress.com, even after payments from me stopped.

I erred.

When I told WordPress a month in advance why I was not renewing, and how upset I was that they were inserting ads into my paid-for blog, WordPress did not reply. Instead, WordPress did put up a notice at my gravatar account advising readers that I had not renewed guyatree.com, but (as if solace)  hey– readers can still access guyatree’s WordPress postings via guyatree.wordpress.com’

Except WordPress won’t let readers access the posts. Instead wordpress blocks access, even unto this day.

Too, gravatar, which is owned by WordPress, no longer allows me to edit my online accounts linked with them, just as “my” wordpress blog stays “open” even though access to readers is blocked by WordPress.

From my experiences with WordPress and Gravatar, I suggest no one buy a domain from WordPress (unless you plan to pay them for like evuh.)

Peace in

 

PS: Readers may now find my postingsvia guyatree.tumblr.com , with the permalink from WordPress and tagged WORDPRESS, and/or check out this poll

130623_2233

 

 

 

Thinking of buying your domain through WordPress? I

Aside

Thinking of buying your domain through WordPress?

I paid WordPress upfront for the domain GUYATREE.COM, only to find a few months later that WordPress was inserting commercial advertising in “my” blog. I did not care for that so I let the domain expire at year’s end, thinking surely I could return to the ordinary guyatree.wordpress.com.

I erred; the WordPress admin have been lax in removing the link to guyatree.com (it has been a month) so visitors now get only a 404. (I found a workaround that allows me to post, but have not found a way for visitors to read it.) Worse, Gravatar (which connects to WordPress) no longer allows me to update my links, so yeah, I am bummed with WordPress, and suggest you think long and hard before you pony up for a domain name through them.

 

.

Der Wille zur Macht

As a young child of seven or so when bedtime had come and my parents had said goodnight, having left on a light for me (we lived in the deep woods of Alabama, isolated, and there were always noises from shadows and critters in the dark dark night), there was a period one summer wherein I would sit in the bed cross-legged and focus my childish mind on that bare bulb overhead in my bedroom. I do not remember how it came to me, but I found myself nightly focusing my mind again and again on making that dim light bulb go out. For several weeks I concentrated on that each night, until I fell asleep.

One night I thought I glimpsed the light dimming, but I fell asleep so quickly that in the morning I decided, no, I had only imagined that. The next night, nothing happened. Over and over I would strain to focus, only to fall asleep while the light burned on. It never “dimmed” again. I convinced myself it never really had dimmed at all.

Still, when I awoke the next morning, sometimes the light was out.

My childlike mind figured either I had finally made it happen, had made the light extinguish– *or* my parents simply had turned the light off before waking me. Either way, that was not important, not at all; what was important was that I was methodical in trying to focus my attention, was striving to maintain focus for an extended period, was trying to make my will strong.
Although I continued the practice all that summer, I never mentioned my pastime to anyone,  perhaps because it was merely a playtime activity, a way of passing time before sleep, or maybe I did not mention it because I felt I had always failed at it.
You see, I didn’t really care if my parents turned the light off, or if the light went off by itself after I had fallen asleep. Both options were beside the point. What mattered was me actually seeing that bulb go out *while* I was willing it to do so. I wanted to know it was because of me, directly and only, happening in the present moment. I wanted to be certain my will could influence inanimate objects, just with thoughts. And so, because I could never make the light go out while I was looking at it, I lost interest in trying to make it happen, and I stopped that practice just before school started again.
“Ein traum, ein traum ist unser leben auf erden hier…”
 A  few years later in Munich I learned to appreciate philosophers and debate classes, and to think logically and to rebut quickly. That proved helpful in school work and socially. (Because I could quote a few sentences from various philosophers, I found that many people tended to assume I actually knew what I was talking about. )

By the time I was sixteen I had become a devout follower of Nietzsche:

“If we affirm one moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence.For nothing    is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp-string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event – and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed.”

Soon enough I discovered that many people are drawn not only to words well used, but to will-power. Naturally, I became an actor.

Rehearsals in high school were held evenings for three hours, and so I would bicycle to the auditorium at dusk, and then bike home alone in the dark. One night as I pedaled homeward, an overhead streetlight went out as I passed below. Poof. Black night.
I had forgotten that lightbulb exercise from my Alabama childhood, but the memory returned as I pedaled on, and I wondered about cause and effect, and about how much time that might take, since again I had started really focusing (learning lines, paying attention closely for hours, effecting my will and attention for extended periods) with discipline, with will, with intent.
Nietzsche was surely smiling, I thought.
One night biking home late after a performance, a gang of hooligans started throwing rocks at me, vicious teens, hard sharp rocks. As I began to grow truly afraid, the streetlight around us suddenly went out, and they laughed as I escaped into the darkness.
Even now a streetlight may go dark as I pass in the night. This has been happening regularly now for over fifty years. Whatever city I am in, whoever I am with: driving, biking, or walking–streetlights extinguish as I pass.
“Ein traum, ein traum ist unser leben auf erden hier…”
Looking back now to that child at home in the deep country woods at night who sat alone in bed focusing on a lightbulb… if only I had willed that bulb to glow brighter, rather than to be extinguished… what a different life I might have known, what a different person I might have become.