Sanskrit Grammar

Thinking about Sanskrit grammar, and about the beauty and musicality of the desiderative verb forms.  And the wonderful line from the Maitrāyaṇīya Upaniṣad, profound and direct, like something from Novalis: 

If people thought of God as much as they think of the world,

who would not attain liberation?

December 12, 2015 Virgen de Guadalupe

Madre benefactora

Madre venturosa

Señora del Tepeyac

Dueña del agua

Xinola achaneh

        --Natalio Hernández, ‘Madre amorosa”

Stanzas on Editing a Novel

Editing the same piece over and over again

is like trying to break through a brick wall using your head.*

“I spent the morning putting in a comma

and the afternoon removing it.” ― Gustave Flaubert

Misery is still finding typos

in a passage you’ve already edited fifteen times.

To “that” or not to “that,”

that is the question.

  *No wonder Bertrand Russell said that writing the Principia Mathematica “had actually damaged his brain.”

Clarence Rivers

Today is the birthday of Clarence Rivers, who passed away a few years back.  He was one of the angels of my youth, with his joyful religion, his belief that music was the soul of worship, and his wonderful voice.  Pastor, liturgist, a composer who combined traditional Western church music with the African-American Spiritual tradition, writer and teacher.  I first read his Reflections when I was very young.  He is perhaps best remembered for his hymn, "God is Love."

Here is a link to that song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXqfh5KxqYs

Krishna Janmashtami

Gopala Krishna, Mahabalipuram, India

Abandoning attachment to the fruit

of action, always satisfied,

at peace, he does nothing at all,

even when engaging in action.

He bears no guilt or vain expectations,

controls his thoughts and desires,

gladly surrenders all he possesses,

acting only with his body.

Accepting whatever comes his way,

beyond all dualities and free from envy,

indifferent to success or failure,

he is not bound even in action.

When a man has achieved this liberation,

through knowledge and understanding,

all his actions become a sacrifice,

and are purified and dissolved.

                --Bhagavad-Gita 4:20-23

This New Novel's Killin' Me

When one is writing a novel there are sacrifices that must be made--other pastimes that must be put aside.  It is easy to mourn the life missed by focusing on writing instead.  But when confronted by what I might be missing, I answer, loosely paraphrasing the Buddha, "No, instead I will finish this novel, and make a million worlds rejoice."  Okay--maybe it's time to take a break.

Rain

We had our first big monsoon rain on Wednesday, and everything still looks washed and fresh.  I can't wait to go to the mountains, or at least the foothills, in the next few weeks, to see the wildflowers that will be blooming.  In the meanwhile, the garden is full of butterflies and hummingbirds and bees and dragonflies.  They are all going about their business in a most playful way.  I almost expect to see a few of Tessa Farmer's skeleton fairies playing mischief on them.  It is a never-ending festival of work and flight and buzzing and chasing and quarreling and pairing.

For everything living in the desert, the rains are truly the source of life.  From the spadefoot toads that stay buried until the rains bring temporary breeding ponds, to the ocotillo that only puts out leaves and blooms after the rain, everything in nature rejoices and thrives during the short rainy season, including people.