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Offerings
The following are offerings from our community:
Christine Morris was inspired by the teachings of Bill Sell during his visit in 2006, and wrote the following song:
Tool Belt Mudra
by Christine Morris
(dedicated to the Albuquerque Shambhala sangha and Bill Sell of Boulder, CO)
______________ ______________________
Intro:
Hands have a language all of their own
A language without words
They make shapes in the air and shapes out of stone
They sing and fly like birds
They can pass love notes back and forth
Or be extremely rude
They speak with an accent, strong or soft
Convey your attitude
And when it’s time those hands go to work
For butcher or baker or candy store clerk
And even with work that’s not manual work
Your hands can help there too
Chorus:
Do the tool belt mudra.
The tool belt mudra
Do the tool belt mudra
To help with the work that you do
Verse 1
No, it’s not appendicitis,
I’m not going for a gun
It’s a movement that the mind makes
When it sees that there’s work to be done
Repeat Chorus
Verses 2 & 3 (no chorus between)
Now, some tools are very useful
and others go back on the shelf
I can’t tell you which ones to take for your own—
You’ve got to find those for yourself.
No, it’s not that it’s a secret,
Or some treasure that cannot be shown—
But what works well for me might not be right for you
You’ve got to find out on your own--
Yeah. the tools that work best
are those you find on your own
Repeat Chorus
Verse 4
The strap on that old tool belt
That strap is made of my breath.
It’s always right here with me
And it don’t come off til this body meets death,
No, it won’t come unbuckled til this body meets death
Almost ending coda (to tune of “Sixteen Tons”):
You dig 16 tons
and what has it got ya?
Deeper in the heart of a
Bodhisattva
You dig 16 tons…
(repeat x 3)
(Final Chorus into closing: “To help with the work that….)
You do
·
He do
·
She do
We do
They do
Who do?
·
I do.
Closing:
You don’t have to stay stuck
In “shouldn’t you” or “should ya”
If you just keep doing
The toolbelt mudra.
© 2006 Christine Morris
A Poem by Joan Abend
Your sound awakens an ancient memory
Of what must have been, once upon a time
In Spring and Fall you fly your river route
And my heart remembers those Shambhalian times
When all went rather well
Knowing it cannot be recaptured
I always hope I will be outside
When you fly past
Just to feel that awakening once again!
Song of a Warrior
By
Vicente (JV Marco)
Warrior in the World, February 3, 2008
A muddied diamond has not lost its luster
it glistens peerlessly even within a cocoon of beliefs
a private space, asleep to reality.
There is much labor in holding together an illusion
forcing something to be real, that is not real
an imagined humanity that has no being.
The essence of a warrior was never born
its joy not subject to sensory confusion
the five children of human-ness.
Human-ness without beingness is ignorance
the delusion that concepts are real
a disconnection from immediacy.
Reality does not exist for the warrior
the warrior exists for it
no longer laboring to maintain ignorance.
Shambhala says, a warrior never hesitates
they shine their light on everything
even a pile of shit.
Peek-a-boo
By
Michael Hanauer
Oh, I have been so far away.
Absent gone to China-to-China.
Feeling alive experiencing simple joys.
As I notice what is about me.
Been to China-to-China.
I leaped today oh the invigorating rush.
Saw China again China.
Touching the artistry of intimacy.
I listened with curiosity.
Found China, China so far away.
I got scared today. I see that I still am.
I can work with this.
Boy I like China, China today.
I made a choice. Set my reaction aside.
I responded with integrity.
China, China such a big place.
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