Dear learners
Leaves falling
Lie on one another;
The rain beats the rain
Leaves falling
Lie on one another;
The rain beats the rain
Leaves falling
Lie on one another;
The rain beats the rain
Can you 'feel' the difference?
--A faster finer form of vision--
Muni San, I do see you, I do feel for you and I do care how you live and die
'If in every human contact something is communicated, something learned
something felt, it follows that where nothing is communicated, nothing
learned or felt there is nothing human either --'
Ebb and flow, breathing in stillness, distillation instils our essence?
Denied effective communication humans remain in contact with the
fundamental ability to feel - And until the very cells of the corporeal
body actually cease something very beautiful but invisible to most, called
'adaptive radiation' continues to shine forth outward from the black
embers of a hapless, helpless flow
All that follows happened, so every one has his and her name even though
all may now be gone
Of Mr Naron's chart , his aide Myrtle tells it like this, 'Today he is going
to die'
'The priest had been that very morning, d'you see'
Two other 'aides', Elizabeth and Frost stood bedside, being bodyside the
former asked the latter to change the oxygen tube, to wit the reply,
' No, they won't let me do it, I'm not supposed to be bright enough'
Elizabeth then remarked that Mr Naron was 'keeping her from' her work and
departed, Frost likewise to make a bed all the while as the observer walked
around while the remarks are falling like the patter of rain, --
Ain't he dead yet,
ain't he dead yet,
ain't he dead yet?
What follows must be absolute quotation as complete authenticity; it is not a
long citation so please stay with us --
'Thus passed Mr Naron: a nuisance to the end, interfering with people's
work; surrounded, perhaps, in his last moments, by his own phantom
community of brothers, sisters and children' [None were documented] He
dies as he had lived; he was just a 'he' and a 'him' without a name;
people talked about him as if he were not there -- To the end people did
not do what they are supposed to do, and to the end he was tended by help
who barely knew their jobs -- No one held his hand, there were no tears,
only a corroding irritation that he was taking too long to die - while the
social conscience stood piously by, trying its respectable best to keep Mr
Naron alive with an oxygen tube fastened to his nose with a dirty piece of
adhesive -- Society is satisfied that it had done its best when it pours
oxygen into a dying man -- That he has first been degraded to the level of
social junk is none of its affair'
Much very unpleasant detail is omitted from the above account though I
think the 'picture' is still painted and I willingly post the full textual
details and references if anyone cares to ask -- Similarly, such a person
might care to discover the contents of Dante's - The Inferno, Canto XVIII
for a 'darker enlightening' --
Citation, "Aspen (tree) is the remedy for any fear where the cause of the
fear cannot be named. At one end of the spectrum the (Aspen) fear can be
no more than a sense of foreboding, an uneasy anxiety that something
unpleasant or frightening is going to happen. At the other it can be a
real terror, with physical symptoms such as the hair standing on end.
Sometimes people think of Aspen as a night-time fear, as causeless
emotions seem to be uncanny. And of course if you were lying awake in a
dark room scared of something but not knowing what it was, then Aspen
would be the remedy to take. But in fact Dr Bach said that for fear of the
dark Mimulus itself would be the appropriate remedy to take, since the
cause of the fear (the dark) can be named. And nameless Aspen fears are
just as likely to occur in full sunlight as on a dark night."
Now little flower speak with me -- The essence of the Aspen tree can set
aside my frail fears via the memory of water: -
)>)>>)>>>)>>>>)>>>>>)>>>>>>)>>>>>>>) so tell me more of trees and be sure to
include in your vision how I might learn to die while alive in a fitting
manner.
' Plants, on the other hand, have developed the most perfect balance
imaginable between production and de-production; a circulatory mechanism,
what is not used is immediately decomposed to use again, there being no sharp
distinction in botany between coming into being and passing away'
I said, Funny you should say that; then he continued, "Building up and
breaking down merge with one another. The decomposition of blossom for
example and the production of new plant material go hand in hand." I like
very much your imagery of speech, hand in hand, very pretty and fitting.
In tropical climates there are evergreens that prepare the cycle of coming
and going thus, "The old foliage does not fall straightaway," Are you hearing
this Mr. Naron? " - The old leaves rather move away quite actively into a
position favourable to the younger generation."
Well, that is for sure truly poetic, but I do require a little more hard
chemistry for the skeptics among us.
" Understood Andrew! Before the leaves fall they change colour as they
wither. You might say in your language, restricting though it seems to me,
the leaves continue to 'adaptively radiate' as the main body extracts
nitrogen compounds suffusing itself thus it rebuilds the compounds within
itself as whole somewhat poetically like your autopoietic systemization
theory? When 'fallen' our 'dead' leaves continue to bring forward life
through increased diminution since we cover the earth like a warming blanket
through winter and early spring bringing inner warmth to seedlings to
germinate. And when they have thus be borne upon the dying what does the leaf
do then, roll himself away to clear the ground for light to now nurture the
seedling? No. They become transparent."
"Pah!" I said. "I have seen the ground covered thus and it is not a carpet
of glassy leaves, as you would have me believe but all colours of brown and
grunge."
"And Pah! to you, O' shortsighted one." He retorted: - ) (O.K. so I made that
bit up, please forgive me) " They are effectively transparent to those parts
of the spectrum the plant needs that are important to him for photosynthesis,
and the greatest transparency is reached right at the time of germination."
"A Miracle!" I exclaimed.
I turned and he was gone.
There is maybe somewhere all around, so close we cannot yet see it a
'cohering' that sits pristine within some void or other, some 'something'
in seeming 'nothing'. It is something to do with 'giving ourselves away',
something about 'root and branch'.
About ten years ago through a mutual friend who had lived for years in India
and close to Nepal I met Mama, Doctor of this and that. Sagely man.
"Mama, I want to ask you something that has puzzled me for a while now."
"Go ahead Andrew, what do you wish to ask?"
"For years I have watched that old Yew tree. I reckon it is about five maybe
six hundred years old and as the Sun rises to the east the most beautiful
golden light hangs under the canopy of the branches, only at certain times of
day according to the swing of the Sun at different times of year. It is hard
to explain just how that light says to me, 'Come, stand within me and I will
bathe you entirely.' So a few weeks ago I did just that. I walked over to the
tree and stood in the light. It was not there. The moment I stood in the
light it had gone. Where was the light Mama?"
"I cannot tell you where the light was Andrew, I can only tell you that when
you and the light are ready there the light will be. One of you was not yet
ready."
Now we must return to the pulse of darker things.
Citation. " As I passed through one of the wards I saw Mr Yarmouth - He
waved and motioned for me to come over - The first thing he asked was, "
Do you live near my brother near King Street?" It seems that Mr Yarmouth
wanted me to find out if his brother was going to bring Mr Yarmouth's
other shoe -- He pointed to his feet and I could see he had a shoe on his
right foot but none on his left -- Mr Yarmouth continued to tell me he
hoped his brother wouldn't let him down; his brother was supposed to bring
his other shoe -- I told him I live a ways away and he said, ' No, that
isn't near my brother -- He said that if only he had his other shoe he
could get up and move around, he said that if his brother didn't get his
shoe for him the Reverend Burr would, the Reverend had promised that he
would see about it, Mr Yarmouth said - " let's see, today is Friday isn't
it?" And so I said, "Yes" He said, " Well, there is still Saturday and
Sunday maybe -- I won't give up hope, I never give up hope --" I said, "
No, don't ever give up hope"
The records do not show if dear Mr Yarmouth ascended to his heaven with
one shoe or two. I am reliably informed he no longer needs them, shining
forth in a newer realm remade entire for him and Him alone.
Leaves falling
Lie on one another;
The rain beats the rain.
Best wishes,
Andrew Campbell
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