Lookin’ Up, Lookin’ In

There was too much to look around, so  I looked up… Continue reading

Hide and Seek at Rosh Hanikra

 Dolce Far Niente or …

My idea of a holiday is far niente, dolce far niente, to my husband’s dismay. Not even reading. And I have an outstanding talent at doing nothing without any feeling of guilt. Continue reading

Visualization: An Art of Conjuration

A Little Methodology on Heuristics

I’m not the type, it’s not my style, to give motivational or inspirational quotes or videos. It’s a pity, because I would get more readers. If I do concede (not condescend) to do so, though, it shall mostly be along another quote, pic or video (minimally, burgeoning and bifurcating tags), the two somewhat clashing with each other: in seeming dialectic. The initial objective is not so much to ponder or mull over, than get a flash of insight from the juxtaposition of “documents”, as if out of the blue, from the first reading, like a koan or other paradox may conjure up: one heuristic methodology to get some insight, some experience of synchronicity or to discover our strange attractors and learn from them (post on strange attractors coming soon). It is only after the initial encounter, the occasion to refresh some old pearls of wisdom and give them back all their sheen and patina through a heuristic inquiry. However, this time, I am going to make a little exception (or am I, really?). Continue reading

Liberating Brainwashing

Duke Leto Atreides I’s Rite of passage in Dune by Frank Herbert

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

Only I will remain.

Dune (1984) – Gom Jabbar

Continue reading

“Art” de Yasmina Reza: De l’autre côté du tableau blanc

J’adore le  théâtre, d’ailleurs j’en refais en amateur (en hébreu) depuis un an, dans un petit centre communautaire de ma ville. J’ai aussi retrouvé le goût et la patience de voir des pièces même si, parfois, qu’à travers la lucarne Youtube. Continue reading

Umbilici Matters

 

Yoel Benharrouche_melodie des sens et partage de lumiereMélodie des sens et partage de lumière par Yoel Benharrouche

Above: the sky

Below: matter

You, umbilici Continue reading

Naci En Alamo

It seems, these days, that this blog is turning into an impressionistic collection of notes on subjects that I would like to develop further, time allowing, like the theme of the voyager, people in exile, the gypsy. Today, during a shiatsu session, I heard Naci En Alamo in the background. I knew the song through Gatlif’s beautiful film, Vengo. Face down, through the hole, while the masseuse applied pressure on my left shoulder,  abandoned, I began to cry silently. The words? The interpretation? The music? The pain? Continue reading

L’ élu: P’tite Ode a Mon Kindlele

Je t’ai attendu
si longtemps
les feuilles moisies
me rappellaient ton absence
je t’ai rêvé
plus de 20 ans
mais cet automne enfin Continue reading

Enlightenment glimpse by glimpse : a Quote and a Poem

Zen enlightenment, which carries with it a deep and lasting comprehension of one’s place in the totality of the universe, is not easily gained — contrary to the impression of “immediacy” that many people have taken away from their cursory reading of Zen literature. Continue reading

T.H. White: The Book of Merlyn

the book of Merlyn_last chImagine a rusty bolt on the garden door, which has been set wrong, or the door has sagged on its hinges since it was put on, and for years the bolt has never been shot efficiently: except by hammering it, or by lifting the door a little, and wriggling it home with effort. Imagine then that the old bolt is unscrewed, rubbed with emery paper, bathed in paraffin, polished with fine sand, generously oiled, and reset by a skilled workman with such nicety that it bolts and unbolts with the pressure of a finger – with the pressure of a feather – almost so that you could blow it open or shut. Can you imagine the feelings of the bolt? They are the feelings of glory which convalescent people have, after a fever. It would look forward to being bolted, yearning for the raptures of its sweet, succesful motion. Continue reading