Tricycle magazine is awesome. It's launched the desire to read 4 books.
I loved the excerpt on boredom from Sangharakshita's latest Living Wisely: Further Advice from Nagarjuna's Precious Garland.
I read his first book on Nagarjuna's Precious Garland, and I want to read this one. Sangharakshita is my root teacher, to whom I'm eternally grateful for.
I enjoyed reading an excerpt by Shozan Jack Haubner from Zen Confidential: Confessions of a Wayward Monk.
What I liked about the excerpt was that it was genuine, authentic and honest. Nothing special.
I want to read Kyra Phalen's novel Siddhartha The Warrior Prince.
I want to reread Herman Hesse's novel, too. To compare and contrast the two books would be interesting for a book club. Maybe.
I want to read the poetry of Marie Howe, like in her last book The Kingdom of Ordinary Time: Poems.
I found the 3 poems quite good, in the magazine. In the interview she talks about taking care of her brother during his sickness unto death. She's supposedly the poet laureate of New York, my adopted home state. The Empire State. Not sure what that means.
And I enjoyed the teaching from Thanissaro Bhikkhu and Pema Chodron, two A list Buddhist teachers.
I'm grateful for this issue to arrive. The previous one didn't and it seems there's no amount of e-mails that can be written to fix the matter. This modern world; all kinds of technology with little glitches.
There's a lot of articles about technology in this issue that I haven't read.
I have to say that for me the experience of technology is at once empowering, intoxicating and frustrating. It seems like you can do things, but at the same time requesting the issue they never sent seems like an impossibility. Reminds of the movie Brazil where a fly causes the wrong man to be sent to jail.
I don't mean to whine about not getting the issue, I think I could replicate this experience countlessly. I have a swank car that somehow leaks inside. It's never been the same since someone smashed a window and stole my airbags, and a tire went flat.
My laptop has broken countless times, most of it my kids spilling water on it or dropping it.
My iPhone has had problems at times, I wasn't getting crucial text messages for a while there for no reason I could understand.
The wifi in my apartment goes out inexplicably, and you don't know whether it's the host server, lots of traffic on the internet, my provider having heavy traffic, my modem having a problem, my router having a problem, the airport in my computer or my computer. When it doesn't work, I've just mentioned 6 possible weak links, and there's probably others, like my battery dying on me, or the human element that I've just done something wrong--but I inherently feel that technology should work for me, not the other way around, that I have to work for it.
And my work life has been computerized somehow. When I first got into social work it was hand written files. Now it's all computer programs: EPIC, CONNECTIONS, PROMIS
I remember when the mother of my children was giving birth there was a nurse who sat in the room inputting stuff into a computer. She never even really looked at us, she was just there to tend to the computer's needs.
Technology just seems so inevitable, like that's the way it's got to be, the whole shebang is a runaway train that you just need to step off the tracks, do not try and stop it.
Yet I'm so bewitched I'm writing a blog.
I loved the excerpt on boredom from Sangharakshita's latest Living Wisely: Further Advice from Nagarjuna's Precious Garland.
I read his first book on Nagarjuna's Precious Garland, and I want to read this one. Sangharakshita is my root teacher, to whom I'm eternally grateful for.
I enjoyed reading an excerpt by Shozan Jack Haubner from Zen Confidential: Confessions of a Wayward Monk.
What I liked about the excerpt was that it was genuine, authentic and honest. Nothing special.
I want to read Kyra Phalen's novel Siddhartha The Warrior Prince.
I want to reread Herman Hesse's novel, too. To compare and contrast the two books would be interesting for a book club. Maybe.
I want to read the poetry of Marie Howe, like in her last book The Kingdom of Ordinary Time: Poems.
I found the 3 poems quite good, in the magazine. In the interview she talks about taking care of her brother during his sickness unto death. She's supposedly the poet laureate of New York, my adopted home state. The Empire State. Not sure what that means.
And I enjoyed the teaching from Thanissaro Bhikkhu and Pema Chodron, two A list Buddhist teachers.
I'm grateful for this issue to arrive. The previous one didn't and it seems there's no amount of e-mails that can be written to fix the matter. This modern world; all kinds of technology with little glitches.
There's a lot of articles about technology in this issue that I haven't read.
I have to say that for me the experience of technology is at once empowering, intoxicating and frustrating. It seems like you can do things, but at the same time requesting the issue they never sent seems like an impossibility. Reminds of the movie Brazil where a fly causes the wrong man to be sent to jail.
I don't mean to whine about not getting the issue, I think I could replicate this experience countlessly. I have a swank car that somehow leaks inside. It's never been the same since someone smashed a window and stole my airbags, and a tire went flat.
My laptop has broken countless times, most of it my kids spilling water on it or dropping it.
My iPhone has had problems at times, I wasn't getting crucial text messages for a while there for no reason I could understand.
The wifi in my apartment goes out inexplicably, and you don't know whether it's the host server, lots of traffic on the internet, my provider having heavy traffic, my modem having a problem, my router having a problem, the airport in my computer or my computer. When it doesn't work, I've just mentioned 6 possible weak links, and there's probably others, like my battery dying on me, or the human element that I've just done something wrong--but I inherently feel that technology should work for me, not the other way around, that I have to work for it.
And my work life has been computerized somehow. When I first got into social work it was hand written files. Now it's all computer programs: EPIC, CONNECTIONS, PROMIS
I remember when the mother of my children was giving birth there was a nurse who sat in the room inputting stuff into a computer. She never even really looked at us, she was just there to tend to the computer's needs.
Technology just seems so inevitable, like that's the way it's got to be, the whole shebang is a runaway train that you just need to step off the tracks, do not try and stop it.
Yet I'm so bewitched I'm writing a blog.