November 22 radio broadcast


Here is this weeks radio show.

8 comments:

Love To Push Those Buttons said...

Nice. Wouldn't have missed it for an nose hair coat!

In'Lakech said...

Visible, I am sorry to learn of your Mothers passing. She has graduated & I for one am grateful for her giving us the gift of you. Came across this poem of Mr. Tagore & immediately thought of you and your continued homage to the Ineffable. Thank you for consistently attempting to put into words what is felt though the Soul. Happy Thanksgiving to all here & thank you all for sharing your treasure and showing all how to “Aspire to Inspire before we Expire”
In Lak-ech = I am another yourself

By Rabindranath Tagore
Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forgot that there abides the old in the new, and that there also thou abidest.
Through birth and death, in this world or in others, wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, the one companion of my endless life who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar. When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose the bliss of the touch of the One in the play of the many. No more noisy, loud words from me, such is my master’s will. Hence-forth I deal in whispers. The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song.
Men hasten to the King’s market. All the buyers and sellers are there. But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work. Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time, and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum. Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him, and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence! On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded. Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange smell in the south wind. That vague fragrance made my heart ache with longing, and it seemed to me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion. I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart. By all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world. But it is otherwise with thy love, which is greater than theirs, and thou keepest me free. Lest I forget them they never venture to leave me alone. But day passes by after day and thou are not seen.If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart—thy love for me still waits for my love.

In'Lakech said...

Continued from Mr. Tagores Poem "I was not aware"

I was not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold of this life. What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight? When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world, that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother. Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me. And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well. The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away to find in the very next moment its consolation in the left one. Thou art the sky and thou art the nest as well. Oh, thou beautiful, there in the nest it is thy love that encloses the soul with colors and sounds and odors. There comes the morning with the golden basket in her right hand bearing the wreath of beauty, silently to crown the earth. And there comes the evening over the lonely meadows deserted by herds, through trackless paths, carrying cool draughts of peace in her golden pitcher from the western ocean of rest. But there, where spreads the infinite sky for the soul to take her flight in, reigns the stainless white radiance. There is no day nor night, nor form nor color, and never never a word.

Anonymous said...

Thanks, Visible. Very glad to hear that you've got new digs lined up. Be well.

Thomas said...

Nice one. Thanks :)

Kazz said...

Your consciousness band width that people arrange their self to reminds me about the 7 energies of God. All serve God's agenda. Serving God's agenda does not necessarily mean no karmic backlash. It is my view that one can be creative or destructive. One needs to be very discerning and wise when one creates otherwise that creation may turn around and destroy them, which is blatantly obvious from the fact that everything humanity has created in the way of systems for the last 6,000 years has been hijacked by the elite to enslave and destroy humanity. Then there is the act of destruction. The old adage, 'those who live by the sword die by the sword' instantly comes to mind.

It seems one must walk a very slender path between creation and destruction, somewhat like those people who balance on the high wire in circus acts. It is all about harmonising one self with the environment so one can enjoy the human experience but not get bogged down or trapped by it from what I can see. Whether it destroys you would appear to be the Divine's choice.

I agree with you that many people seem to define their self by creating problems or dramas. It seems this occurs because too much weight is placed on the 'I' and not enough focus on what the 'I IS'.

Luv Kazz

Machiventa said...

Yes!!!

Machiventa Melchizzedek

Anonymous said...

Can you hear me now?