This is the great mystery of human vision: Vivid pictures of the world appear before our mind’s eye, yet the brain’s visual system receives very little information from the world itself. Much of what we “see” we conjure in our heads. Understanding a bit about how human vision works provides a fascinating window onto the deeply conditioned nature of all perceptual processes: hearing, tasting, …
Art & Spirit
Acrobat’s Song
Acrobat's Song Who is it for whom we now perform, Cavorting on wire: For whom does the boy Climbing the ladder Balance and whirl— For whom, Seen or unseen In a shield of light? Seen or unseen, In a shield of light, At the tent top Where the rays stream in Watching the pin-wheel Turns of the players Dancing in the light: Lady, We are Thy …
On To The Fields Of Praise
The Lover Of God In the wake of learning about the binding problem, what has come to mind are some of my favorite poems, and in particular great turns of line, whose power has much to do with a sudden shift in how our mind is constructing meaning: a slide from one narrative construction to another, which renders the whole construction process transparent, allowing the freedom of the unconstructed …
Great Sky-Circles
The way of love is not a subtle argument. The door there is devastation. Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom. How do they learn it? They fall, and falling, they're given wings. ~ Rumi (trans. Coleman Barks) * * * I don't often suggest specific yoga asana or qigong sequences, but here's one—which I have explored and greatly appreciated—that aligns beautifully with …
Wu-Wei, Whirling Dervish, Sahaja Samadhi
Oh my ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=241&v=P5_xgip67ac&feature=emb_logo …
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How Infinitely The Heart Expands
Monet Refuses the Operation Doctor, you say that there are no haloes around the streetlights in Paris and what I see is an aberration caused by old age, an affliction. I tell you it has taken me all my life to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels, to soften and blur and finally banish the edges you regret I don't see, to learn that the line I called the horizon does not exist …