Even so, one step from my grave,
I believe that cruelty, spite,
The powers of darkness will in time,
Be crushed by the spirit of light.
Boris Pasternak
******************
Johann Goethe called the devil the spirit of negation. It is too easy to fall into that diabolical pit of darkness and negativity. The crafty devil always begins by telling us something true. The serpent in the garden said they would not "surely die" and they didn't. And that's when the trouble started. The three witches in Macbeth start off by saying Hail, Thane of Glamis, which he is. Then they say Hail, Thane of
Cawdor. And that's when the trouble starts. They go on to say Hail that shall be King. He soon becomes Thane of Cawdor legitimately. But to become King he has to murder the King.
When the public mouth tells us something that turns out oo be true we tend to trust it and believe whatever else it has to say. And that leads us into negative behavior. If we keep following we end up in the hospital;, the prison or some other form of hell.
All those who follow the spirit of negation, who say no to every new idea, who say modern music is not music and modern art is not art, those who humiliate their children, hurt their family members and are unfaithful to their spouses, those who plunder the poor, refuse insurance payments for fanciful reasons and bail out the rich, those who ridicule people they don't like, who make insulting jokes about others to get a laugh, who tell lies, spread gossip, support rumors and betray friends, those who are disrespectful of their neighbors, over aggressive drivers and who scoff at laws, those who copy, plagiarize and blandly steal another person's ideas, those who abuse animals, torture prisoners and take revenge, those who cite scripture to justify criminal acts, those who vote against a good plan because they don't like who proposed it, those who look for ways to take advantage of other people, those who cannot forgive, try to understand or have compassion on others, those who only find fault and not value. those who willingly put people in danger, those who sell faulty products and don't care, those who would never kill the body but would kill the spirit, those who justify every wrong, harmful and selfish act by the false belief of entitlement, are all working for the devil and they don't know it.
So what can we do? We all have our own version of dark corners, our own private patch of mud to get our feet stuck in. The only answer is to beware. Beware of the smooth talking reptilian vendor of theories, Beware of the smiling prophetess of enticing improbabilities. Beware of the dommsdayers and deniers. If we have any entitlement it is the right to make a list of those things we know are right, purchase only those things and avoid the rest. We have the right to check our mental bags all the time to make sere we bring home only the best. We have a right to ask questions of every negative. And we have the right to think for ourselves. What is light? What is dark? And make the right choice. Believe me I know what I'm talking about. I've not done yet, but I relinquished myself from the dark that accused me of darkness and joined the light that welcomed me in the spirit of light.
DB
===========================
SPRING QUESTION
(This is not a contest.)
In your opinion what is the most amazing thing that could happen during this decade? Make it as outrageous as you want but keep it within the realm of what you consider a possibility.
15 responses so far.
Answers will be published the first day of Summer.
Thank you.
dbdacoba@aol.com
DB - The Vagabond
*******************
Showing posts with label Boris Pasternak. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boris Pasternak. Show all posts
Monday, June 7, 2010
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Precious Plenty 3/25/09
Life always spills over the rim of every cup.
Boris Pasternak
***************
Hail.
-------------------
It was a very unpleasant trip to the post office today. For one thing it was cold, and it was depressing mail that I had to send, the state of my hip made it extremely painful to walk more than a hundred feet or so and the post office is a long distance from my home. This town has almost no pedestrian benches and none en route. So by the time I got back here I was exhausted, in pain and in a very bad mood. I wanted to have a bite to eat and take a nap.
But I saw what appeared to be a white spot on the floor. I thought I had spilled some milk or flour or something. The last thing I wanted to do was to clean up a dirty spot . But I got a sponge and some water and sat down to clean it. Then I discovered that it wasn't a spot of dirt but a spot of sunlight. I sat looking at it and admired this one patch of sunlight smiling up at me. I thought how amazing it was that the sun will find it's way through all the nooks and crannies of the world to shine it's light, how every available spot on earth gets its share of sunlight, some more, some less, even if it's only for one day and a few minutes.
Then I thought about how it's the same with ideas. Wherever they may come from, we all get our share of ideas, some more, some less. The problem is that we so often ignore them, we don't take note of them, we don't take the trouble to think about them, to observe them.
In Anton Chekhov's play "The Seagull" the character of Trigorin, a writer, tells how he always carries a piece of paper in his pocket in order to jot down descriptions and ideas. Picasso used to make drawings on paper restaurant napkins and hotel stationary. I once saw a TV interview with Harold Arlen, the composer of the songs in "The Wizard Of Oz" who took a piece of music paper out of his jacket pocket to show that he always carried it with him in case he got the idea for a melody.
Then I remembered that I do the same thing myself. I always have a small note pad in my pocket to write down ideas I get from reading or thinking. I have a box full of those note pads. Some of the entries are excellent, some good, some not so good, some dreadful. Some of the good ones (I hope) make it onto my journal, Vagabond Jottings.
All these memories and realizations came to me because instead of lazily falling into bed for a well needed nap I decided first to clean up a spot.on the floor. Later, when I woke from my nap, the sun had moved on and the spot was gone. But the journey had been successful.
There's a hymn that reads:
The useful and the great,
The thing that never dies,
The silent toil that is not lost, -
Set these before thine eyes.
DB The Vagabond
________________________
I don't care what the "meteorologist" says, It's spring.
*********************************************
Boris Pasternak
***************
Hail.
-------------------
It was a very unpleasant trip to the post office today. For one thing it was cold, and it was depressing mail that I had to send, the state of my hip made it extremely painful to walk more than a hundred feet or so and the post office is a long distance from my home. This town has almost no pedestrian benches and none en route. So by the time I got back here I was exhausted, in pain and in a very bad mood. I wanted to have a bite to eat and take a nap.
But I saw what appeared to be a white spot on the floor. I thought I had spilled some milk or flour or something. The last thing I wanted to do was to clean up a dirty spot . But I got a sponge and some water and sat down to clean it. Then I discovered that it wasn't a spot of dirt but a spot of sunlight. I sat looking at it and admired this one patch of sunlight smiling up at me. I thought how amazing it was that the sun will find it's way through all the nooks and crannies of the world to shine it's light, how every available spot on earth gets its share of sunlight, some more, some less, even if it's only for one day and a few minutes.
Then I thought about how it's the same with ideas. Wherever they may come from, we all get our share of ideas, some more, some less. The problem is that we so often ignore them, we don't take note of them, we don't take the trouble to think about them, to observe them.
In Anton Chekhov's play "The Seagull" the character of Trigorin, a writer, tells how he always carries a piece of paper in his pocket in order to jot down descriptions and ideas. Picasso used to make drawings on paper restaurant napkins and hotel stationary. I once saw a TV interview with Harold Arlen, the composer of the songs in "The Wizard Of Oz" who took a piece of music paper out of his jacket pocket to show that he always carried it with him in case he got the idea for a melody.
Then I remembered that I do the same thing myself. I always have a small note pad in my pocket to write down ideas I get from reading or thinking. I have a box full of those note pads. Some of the entries are excellent, some good, some not so good, some dreadful. Some of the good ones (I hope) make it onto my journal, Vagabond Jottings.
All these memories and realizations came to me because instead of lazily falling into bed for a well needed nap I decided first to clean up a spot.on the floor. Later, when I woke from my nap, the sun had moved on and the spot was gone. But the journey had been successful.
There's a hymn that reads:
The useful and the great,
The thing that never dies,
The silent toil that is not lost, -
Set these before thine eyes.
DB The Vagabond
________________________
I don't care what the "meteorologist" says, It's spring.
*********************************************
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