I haven't been posting blogs in the Gaia scene since the big switch - still missing the ambiance and character of Zaadz.... In the meantime, I've been musing over in myspace. You're most welcome to come by and visit - the blogs are public, so you don't need to sign in or be a member to peruse. Wishing you well, always!

Source: http://hyperphysics.phy-astr.gsu.edu/hbase/astro/hydhel.html

:

the tao gives birth to one
THE TAO CAN'T BE PERCEIVED
one gives birth to two
SMALLER THAN AN ELECTRON
two gives birth to three
IT CONTAINS UNCOUNTABLE GALAXIES
three gives birth to all things

If you are studying the universe from the perspective of Chinese philosophy, the "two" that sprang from the "one" refers to Yin + Yang. If you're studying the universe from the perspective of cosmology and physics, the "two" refers to Hydrogen + Helium. The "three" is essentially what happens next, that force which governs everything whether we like it or not : change. From there, all things manifest.

Duality is an essential component of life. Without it, there's really no point. If Hydrogen never produced Helium, then Carbon would not have become possible. Since we're made of the stuff, that means we would not be possible. Without Yin AND Yang in the equation, there's no equation, no sum, no-thing.

Five basic rules govern this duality:

All things have duality.
There is duality within duality, infinitely: yin within yang, yang within yin.
Yin + Yang mutually CREATE each other, mutually REGULATE each other and mutually TRANSFORM INTO each other.
These concepts apply to the way life forms and evolves, to patterns in nature and her weather systems, to dynamics between friends and lovers, to keeping bridges structurally sound and esthetically pleasing, to the way a poem holds together and a day rises and falls, and everything inbetween.

Night + Day
Cold + Heat
Noun + Verb

Yang is the verb that acts on the noun, Yin. Without the action, what's the point? Without the substance, why apply the action?

For me, this becomes even more interesting when I apply it to the concepts underlying key elements that make life meaningful and clear. Those states of being we seem to know we are here to cultivate, even if we don't always know how to go about it:

Compassion requires Curiosity
Wealth requires Generosity
Optimism requires Gratitude
Purpose requires Passion
Innovation requires Love

Curiosity gives you the option to see inside without pre-judging or staying tucked within your own insulated perspective. When you're curious about what's happening with another person, you are simply too interested in their story to take it personally or tune them out. When you stay curious, you allow your insight to expand as you keep receiving, even when the details change. You maintain the healthy joy of active discovery that protects you from falling in or getting lost in the story.

On the flip side, Curiosity without Compassion is just a shallow cousin of gossip.

Generosity is an active state of feeling abundance; you have a lot to give, from your Self, your resources, your insight and vitality. When you feel generous, you access wealth and assign it clarity and function. A loving heart is an aspect of wealth, as much as a steady bank account or a network of strong connections.

Generosity without a sense of wealth leads to the kind of giving that drains the soul. It heaps ulterior motives on its recipients (giving to get approval, reward, accolades or love just empties the account. Not that those receipts are wrong; it's great and appropriate to receive acknowledgment for generous acts! But if you're really just feeling "poor" and hoping someone will change that for you, the whole thing falls apart. So: generosity without your sensation of inherent wealth and abundance will leave you hollow.)

Gratitude finds value in what already is. When you feel grateful for what is, you naturally open a receptive state for what may come next. If you can appreciate what's now, you can trust there will always be something to appreciate. Optimism becomes fundamental; you don't even have to try to raise a sunny outlook toward what may be.

Gratitude without a sense of optimism, oddly enough, becomes pessimistic and clingy. It clings to the one thing you're thankful for without opening to what's next.

Passion makes meaning. Just try being stressed out by something you're truly passionate about pursuing.

Passion without purpose is fickle and, over time, depressing as it burns itself out.

Love fuels innovation and creativity by awakening your drive to contribute to or shape the world in beneficial ways. You must love the process itself enough to maintain the stamina to see it through; and you must love the idea enough to trust its intrinsic value.

Love without a creative / innovative expression is stagnant. A couple can love each other totally, but if they're not creating their relationship together, the love stalls in place and can even become moldy from lack of activation. It has to be re-created, innovated with ongoing mutual commitment. Self-love is the same way. You can love yourself clearly, but if you don't activate that love through creative endeavors, it stays small and contained within you and loses its ability to fill you up. That doesn't mean you have to become an artist or architect or make music or invent the next generation of technology wonders leading to a Nobel Prize - you can activate love's innovative drive simply by creating your life and pushing your self to evolve within your own home, your very mind. Chances are, when you start there the other products follow, so consider yourself warned: greatness could lurk around the corner. (Hydrogen . . . Helium . . . billions of stars . . . us . . .if love's not in the mix somehow, then why?)

. + . + . + .
Quotes from two online sources:

Hydrogen-Helium Abundance
Hydrogen and helium account for nearly all the nuclear matter in today's universe. Schramm's figures for relative abundances indicate that helium is about 25% by mass and hydrogen about 73% with all other elements constituting less than 2%. This high percentage of helium argues strongly for the big bang model, since other models gave very small percentages of helium. Since there is no known process which significantly changes this H/He ratio, it is taken to be the ratio which existed at the time when the deuteron became stable in the expansion of the universe. LEARN MORE from this site.

+ . +

Hydrogen
A hydrogen nucleus is simply a proton, so hydrogen existed as the basic raw material to make other elements. Some of these protons combined with neutrons to form an isotope of hydrogen, deuterium, which contains one proton and one neutron in the nucleus. Prior to the start of the nucleosynthesis era, the universe was too hot and energetic for the deuterium to form and remain stable. The abundant high energy gamma rays energized any deuterium nuclei that formed and tore the proton and neutron apart.

Helium, Lithium, and Beryllium
Why does the deuterium matter? Helium forms from the fusion of four hydrogen atoms. But it does not occur all in one step. In both the reactions powering the Sun and the reactions that manufactured helium during the big bang, making deuterium is a necessary intermediate step in fusing hydrogen into helium. The nuclear reactions to make helium could not begin until the temperature of the universe dropped below 3 billion Kelvins and deuterium could remain stable.

Hydrogen fusion reactions like those that power the Sun made helium during this nucleosynthesis stage. At the same time trace amounts of lithium and beryllium, the next two elements in the periodic table, were also made. Before heavier elements, such as the carbon in our bodies, could be manufactured by nuclear fusion reactions, there had to be enough of the raw material for these reactions: helium. LEARN MORE from this site.

:

The Dalai Lama smiling is a sunrise in my heart every time I see him, in images as well as imagination. I find infinite comfort, playfulness and wise joy in his smile; it is the ultimate luxury to live in a time when such a light can shine for all the world to see.

:

If I dive a little deeper into this question, I have to say the smile that makes me the happiest is my own. And, no, this isn't my wallowing in narcissism here! I mean it literally: that I reach into and turn on my own happiness when I smile. I love to smile at anyone and everyone. And I love the reflection of someone else's smile returning my own. When no one is around, I smile at trees and cactus wrens and at my own thoughts. There are times when I have to remind myself to do so - when smiling seems like an act of courage or great effort. Those are the times when trying on a smile is the most potent medicine of all. In the act of doing so, I tend to discover that smiling is the easy part. It lures joy the way beautiful scenery lures the ahhh! from deep inside the soul, lightning-fast to the surface.

:

:

E=mc²

I looks brutally simple and yet it is a gigantic conceptual leap. . . . It has observational predictions, it can be tested. When you put numbers into this formula and perform a short calculation, the implication is that inside 1 gram of matter lies dormant an energy equivalent to the explosion of about 20,000 kg of TNT.

Joao Magueijo in Faster than the Speed of Light

:

.

I went to bed early last night, wickedly tired, ready to dive into major restoration. My mind wasn't as ready for sleep as my body, so I coasted in the soothing darkness in a meditative state. Maitri practice is my lullaby: I send love to. . . .everyone and anyone until I dissolve into it completely. It was working. Then the phone rang.

Heartbreaking conversation; another chapter in an ongoing loss. I did not finally go to sleep until after 3am this morning.

There are no surprises in the latest turn of events, the way it's not a surprise when someone diagnosed with terminal illness is finally letting go. Those who have never experienced that particular brand of story, insidiously building and breaking down over a prolonged period of time

a slow inevitable train wreck in progress with mostly pre-determined outcome
those dear souls who have never been there often believe it's a relief when the end comes. It rarely is.

Intellectually, we can find value in knowing one agony has ended. The new grief, however, comes in the underestimated challenge of finding new equilibrium now that the black hole of your attention has released its gravity. This is the real grieving time, with no other tasks to distract its pulse. He's not coming home.

Time to be just me again.

So, without my craved restorative slumber, I woke weary and weighty today. The best remedy is usually to get out into the world and slip inside its business and chatter. So instead of staying in, I went out for coffee. Journal along for company.

The scene at The Counter was lively, as expected. I adore the guy working the register today; he interacts with everyone so genuinely and attentively, without ever being phony. Great service, real life; the vitamin I ordered working its nutrients into my psyche.

But I still felt sad. Tear-heavy sensation on my vision like a bad pair of sunglasses I longed to remove.

I took the next vitamin: a book on physics, written with generosity for a lay reader like me. The full, relentless poetry of cosmology spinning my thoughts with the first cup of coffee, I began to scratch notes in my journal. Casual musings on special relativity and how it might translate into Chinese medicine theories. . . . the innocent pursuit of qi, yin and yang happening at the inky tip of my pen, on clean pages. I was writing along easily, then found myself making a note in parentheses: "(anyone reading this goofy inspired cheerful stuff would likely have no clue that I woke up crying today and am on the verge of tears every second I'm NOT writing goofy inspired cheerful stuff!)."

Which is what led me to re-imagine Einstein's equation.
:
R = La²

:

Resilience equals love times the activation of love squared.

I am more in love with the me that's healing than I am with the me that's grieving. As in the healing poem in my previous blog entry, I'm all about using the fire and activating that sexy, vibrant fireman telling me to live, "hot with will." I'm ready for the green grass of everything that's coming next. Sad or not, my heart is alive.

My heart is the Sun attracting new planets to my orbit, inviting comets and helium and mystery.

Bring on the fire, and better gravity to curve this view. Draw me toward an even larger sun I haven't yet discovered.

:

.

When I jump from a diving plank there are no ropes attaching me to the Earth, and still the Earth pulls me towards its center. The Sun pulls the Earth around its orbit from 100,000,000 miles away, again without ropes attached. These facts puzzled Newton so much that he vented his frustration about his own theory in the following manner: "That gravity may be . . . so that one body may act upon another at a distance through a vacuum, without the mediation of something else, by and through which their action and force may be conveyed from one to another, is to me so great an absurdity, that I believe no man . . . can ever fall into it." Clearly Newton would have been much happier if the Earth and the Sun were indeed tied together by ropes. -JM

:

:

:
healing you are the house: beams and rafters caught on fire
now you are the small one inside small dark walls
burning to ash; embers in your bones
you are the fire, too; the heart of all you know
and the fireman there, wielding the axe to break it down
he wears your boots and your voice, is you
pulling you out into unburned air
now turning, placing you carefully
in the grass of your new lawn,
he looks once and speaks,
words smoking from his breath, hot with will
he says: live

you say: yes

:

:

:

I dreamed once I was a major league player stepping up to bat. Just that much. The particular lighting of a ballpark at night narrowed my gaze as I stood in uniform in the on-deck circle, about to step toward the batter's box. Ready, late in the game. I knew I was going to swing away. I had ingrained memories of making contact with the ball and watching it rocket toward the edge of sight. I also had memories of striking out, being grazed and caught at base. It's not that I was "thinking" about these details in the dream; I simply felt them in me and they were mine. I could feel the wood of the bat in my hands, the bare soles of my feet in thick socks and the way the fabric of the uniform contended with the muscle in my thigh. No sounds. All focus. Confident. Exactly where I was supposed to be. Clear and real. My body is not that man's body, but the dream was me somehow. I loved the sensation of it. Sometimes, when life gets stuck, I step into his shoes again and I know what I have inside to give.

It was a moment - my heart experiencing itself.

Healing is a convergence of crazy sparks and falling in. Don't give more credibility to the ash when there's a fireman standing in the center of your story, sexy and strong and doing what the job requires. You made it through because of that character inside you - and because you accepted a command to live. Give credibility to that; lose the rest, keep the fire. In fact, love the fire.

"J'emporterais le feu!" Jean Cocteau's response when asked what item he would take from a burning house. "I'd take the fire!"

:
:

right now: Arizona Tempest

:
:

:

:

:
The cubicle and I came into existence in the same year. 1968. Year of the Monkey. A good year for mucking around, turning things inside out, getting messy in the world. So many important, awful and wonderful things happened that year. And in the midst of that crazy context, the cubicle was born.

I've lived on both sides of the cube, inside it milling about in my work and outside it, bringing inspiration and brokering joy to workers. It's a space people love to loathe. It's also a space in which real hearts beat, true minds explore and innovation takes root.

C.U.B.I.C.L.E.

Space defined by brief walls

I can set my vision higher; rising:

an arrow of Self primed for flight.

Standing, my eyes have full view;

Seated, I am enclosed, private,

Squeezed into a focused lens

trained on an inward fascination.

[ahh, my one life, here in the grand scheme; my evolving story, connected to all the others in this maze]

The perceived burden of cubicle life: there's no imposed quest or strangling, luminous destiny to wield your direction. No Ring of Power to deliver to the fires of Mount Doom. There's only a paycheck, an alarm clock, a decision to make about changing benefits, a flickering screen to warm the scene. How do you become magnificent in this story?

Decide.

Feel the tips of your fingers, in each one an arrow primed on true targets. The turgor in your flesh, a permeable armor, a great gift from gods unnamed. This moment, remembering half-dreamy turning in bed, just before the clock bugled you up, you were wild and open, a heart sure of its own longing. You had your arm around Love and she was breathing. This day, this Tuesday, this anyday, you already know an epic power. You are free to love this space. The hero in this cubic story is the one who remembers the tender truth of love's sensation and still handles the tasks presented to his day. Remembers the expansiveness of simple touch and still answers the phone, impervious to the illusion that this is a small, bland story. Today, right now, right here, inside this cube: wake up.

This is THE only story.

Your story.

"The Action Office was supposed to be invisible and embellished with identity and communication artifacts and whatever you needed to create individuation. We tried to escape the idea of being stylish, which is gone in five years. We wanted this to be the vehicle to carry other expressions of identity." -Bob Propst, the man who invented the cubicle

: :

:
:
.
.
I'm too giddy and too pressed for time to write with any style. Just had to post this in the midst of swooning:


C.E.O. Libraries Reveal Keys to Success
by Harriet Rubin July 21, 2007 The New York Times

Poetry speaks to many C.E.O.’s. “I used to tell my senior staff to get me poets as managers,” says Sidney Harman, founder of Harman Industries, a $3 billion producer of sound systems for luxury cars, theaters and airports. Mr. Harman maintains a library in each of his three homes, in Washington, Los Angeles and Aspen, Colo.
“Poets are our original systems thinkers,” he said. “They look at our most complex environments and they reduce the complexity to something they begin to understand.”

He never could find a poet who was willing to be a manager. So Mr. Harman became his own de facto poet, quoting from his volumes of Shakespeare, Tennyson, and the poetry he found in Arthur Miller’s “Death of a Salesman” and Camus’s “Stranger” to help him define the dignity of working life — a poetry he made real in his worker-friendly factories.



READ THE ENTIRE ARTICLE  in the New York Times Business Section.




and for a little complementary verve:

:

:

:

perspective

:

:

:

infused with an enlightened sense of humor

grounded in an abiding sense of awe and wonderment

seasoned with compassion and wisdom

:

:

+++

is that more than one thing?

we need to learn to laugh more easily to stop wreaking havoc

and we need to be wise about it, recognizing that we are

the only

stewards of this amazing place and each others' hearts

:

:

:

.

.

.

.

:

:

.

The compliment that feels truly luminous to receive:

"I like who I am when I'm with you."

:

.

.

Genuine self-esteem comes from being able to give yourself this very compliment. May you flatter yourself with this reflection all day long!

;

I can easily say to the Zaadz community at large:

I like who I am when I'm with you!!