What was past - Inception

The word is a noun means "the beginning"

Watching this movie, brought forth many thouughts to the forefront.  what is a beginning?
is it when something ends, or do we begin out of nothing...........or is there a continuous cycle

What was past - Nov 30 to Dec 3 in CR

Nov 30:

morning first spanish lesson

afternoon depart at 2:30 for Montevrde, cloud forest, arrive there at 7 pm

Dec 1:

Spend the full day at Monteverde

Dec 2: leave for Arenal, arrive there by noon, check in the hotel and go to the hot springs in the evening

Dec 3: return to san jose, escazu to casa laurin

A walk on a sunny and cold day, March in the city...

What separates the thoughts from running into each other and overwhelming the thinker?  Is it the ability to be an observer of the thoughts.  An observer is one who has the ability to be aware, to watch, to not be the subject but be able to create a distance between the thoughts and the feelings.  The question comes up? Who is this observer?   Is the observer also another form of thought?

As I  think these thoughts and write/type them using two thumbs it occurs, in the stream of my thinking, the similarity of how we as 'beings' are separate from each other.  At times we seem to all blend into each other, especially in crowded places, yet  what keeps us separate?  Could it be the same sense, that the observer uses, which makes us aware of our boundaries of separation? 

I am sitting in downtown Toronto, in a busy space at Tim Hortons coffee spot.  The woman in front of me places her coffee and a small paper bag on the table.  She closed her eyes, clasps her hand and I sense rather I feel an energy of gratitude in her before she bites into her chocolate covered donut, a sip of coffee and I see she is reading the free newspaper.   What stories she must have to tell.  A treasure box of life experiences.  Did she see herself as she is now ? What would she see if she went back ten years? Twenty? Thirty ? Fifty ?  Would she see herself as a small child playing, by herself.  

I feel a strong desire to write her story! Tears well up in my eyes, tears of compassions or maybe familiarity, what of myself am I seeing,  in her?   I wonder?   She looks around, her glance reminds me of the look of a chicken, her gaze is not steady, it darts as if being on her guard, an empty look in her eyes.  I notice her lips, which are moving as she continues to read.  

I finish my coffee...

Tuning the Chakras...

Steady and stop.  Just long enough to sort the worldly matters, then let the spirit move.  

Express the movement, in the walk, in dance, and travel to broaden the physical dimension.   

The spiritual dimension has no boundaries.  Create the separation and draw boundaries to know and protect the physical realm.   

Feel the physical  with the senses...

Be in love with the cosmic,  connection with the cosmic creates oneness, this love is felt when the senses feel an alignment with the spirit.   

"That we are here"...is it!

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from DEAD POET's SOCIETY

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       "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, 'O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?' Answer. That you are here--that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"

Tom Schulman

from "Dead Poets Society"

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Walt Whitman, the old master and son of Manhattan, pictured in approximately 1862.

the above comes from the poem "O Me! O Life!" from Whitman's Leaves of Grass: