tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90374403866686388172012-02-17T17:25:40.635-08:00hypercanvashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16261265729330514144noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9037440386668638817.post-2451205858456169712011-11-24T09:41:00.001-08:002011-11-24T09:41:20.196-08:00Live the day, begin happy, human can as dog dream, beautiful some.<br />-Refrigerator Magnet Buddha<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9037440386668638817-245120585845616971?l=hypercanvas-notsonews.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>hypercanvashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16261265729330514144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9037440386668638817.post-50231206521286641592011-11-24T09:39:00.000-08:002011-11-24T09:39:16.888-08:00<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&quot;type&quot;:1}"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&quot;type&quot;:3}">"Death is our eternal companion,"</span></h6>don Juan said with a most serious air. "It is always to our left, at an arm's length. It was watching you when you were watching the white falcon; it whispered in your ear and you felt its chill, as you felt it today. It has always been watching you. It always will until the day it taps you."<br />He extended his arm and touched me lightly on the shoulder and at the same time he made a deep clicking sound with his tongue. The effect was devastating; I almost got sick to my stomach. .... <br />"How can anyone feel so important when we know that death is stalking us?" he <br />asked.<br />I had the feeling my answer was not really needed. I could not have said anything anyway. A new mood had possessed me.<br />"The thing to do when you're impatient," he proceeded, "is to turn to your left and ask advice from your death. An immense amount of pettiness is dropped if your death makes a gesture to you, or if you catch a glimpse of it, or if you just have the feeling that your companion is there watching you."<br />He leaned over again and whispered in my ear that if I turned to my left suddenly, upon seeing his signal, I could again see my death on the boulder.<br />His eyes gave me an almost imperceptible signal, but I did not dare to look. <br />I told him that I believed him and that he did not have to press the issue any further, because I was terrified. He had one of his roaring belly laughs.<br />He replied that the issue of our death was never pressed far enough. And I argued that it would be meaningless for me to dwell upon my death, since such a thought would only bring discomfort and fear.<br />"You're full of crap!" he exclaimed. "Death is the only wise adviser that we have. Whenever you feel, as you always do, that everything is going wrong .... turn to your death and ask if that is so. Your death will tell you that you're wrong; that nothing really matters outside its touch. Your death will tell you, "I haven't touched you yet"."<br />....<br />"Yes," he said softly after a long pause. "One of us here has to change, and fast. One of us here has to learn again that death is the hunter, and that it is always to one's left. One of us here has to ask death's advice and drop the cursed pettiness that belongs to men that live their lives as if death will never tap them."<br />....<br />( Extracted from "Journey to Ixtlan" by Carlos Castaneda, Chapter 4. Courtesy of scribd.com )<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9037440386668638817-5023120652128664159?l=hypercanvas-notsonews.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>hypercanvashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16261265729330514144noreply@blogger.com0