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Essays on buddhism meditation
Essays on practice of meditation in hinduism and buddhism
Essays on buddhism meditation
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01. Nothingness It was through the discipline of meditation that Nothingness maintained equilibrium. Hundreds of eons could trundle by and Nothingness endured with perfected calm. Meditation allowed for an higher consciousness, and such enlightenment made eternal existence tolerable—if not pleasant for Nothingness to endure. Though she led a solitary existence Nothingness was content. A testament to this was her habit of humming. Though unaware of this habit, the pleasant sound being an unconscious attribute of her general well being. Nothingness learned to do without—her methodology striking at the very base of this discipline: it abstained from thinking. “Hmmm…” Nothingness found thinking a dangerous activity. Her last bout with cogitation had occurred some four and …show more content…
Capable of reason, Nothingness was an evolving form of consciousness. Yet she possessed no discernible dimensions, or visual features. What Nothingness had become prior to its prolonged encounter with the troubling question, What-Might-Be? was a good soul. “Hmmm…” During the four and one half eons since Nothingness’ last bout with thinking a significant development had occurred. The query, What-Might-Be?, that was the result of this bout with thinking had been dismissed by Nothingness and cast into the dungeon of her subconscious. Unlike the thought-forbidding stage of Nothingness’ consciousness, her subconscious was a progressive environment and the query was welcomed there. The significant development had taken place within this progressive environment, for it was there that the query, What-Might-Be?, made of itself an elaborate dream. The queries long, perilous, and transforming journey within Nothingness' subconscious had prepared it for a new challenge. As a fledgling dream it would return to the place of its origin: the perilous stage of Nothingness’ consciousness—where no dream had ever been.
Zero’s voice serves to explain a variety of aspects of his existence, including assertions of his own innocence, criticisms of Susan Smith, explorations of his paradoxical nature, and social commentary regarding the notions of free will versus powerful exterior forces.
...ould become unnecessary and meaningless "if only the darkness", like nothingness, "could be perfect and permanent" (116). Nothingness does preclude individual identity of any sort, however. Surrendering completely to nothingness would negate any possibility of authentic intimate human relations: the one source of meaning and happiness to Sylvie.
In a dream I fled from that haunted and accursed pile, and ran swiftly and silently in the moonlight. When I returned to the churchyard place of marble and went down the steps I found the stone trap- door immovable; but I was not sorry, for I had hated the antique castle and the trees. Now I ride with the mocking and friendly ghouls on the night- wind, and play by day amongst the catacombs of Nephren- Ka in the sealed and unknown valley of Hadoth by the Nile. I know not for me, save that of the moon over the rock tombs of Neb, nor any gaiety save the unnamed feasts of Nitokris beneath the Great Pyramid; yet in my new wilderness and freedom I almost welcome the bitterness of alienage.” This, to me, is the narrator remembering himself. Maybe he wasn’t tricking us, but based on the current information given, I definitely think that he has seen himself before, maybe he forgot because of his mental state, but because he can recall such vivid images of myself, even when he thought it wasn’t him, in fact, maybe it
"Several changes of day and night passed, and the orb of night had greatly lessened, when I began to distinguish my sensations from each other. I gradually saw plainly the clear stream that supplied me with drink, and the trees that shaded me with their foliage. I was delighted when I first discovered that a pleasant sound, which often saluted my ears, proceeded from the throats of the little winged animals who had often intercepted the light from my eyes. I began also to observe, with greater accuracy, the forms that surrounded me, and the boundaries of the radient roof of light which canopied me. Sometimes I tried to imitate the pleasant sounds of the birds, but was unable. Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but the uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me back into silence."
Minogue, Sally. "Was it a vision? Structuring emptiness in To the Lighthouse." Journal of Modern Literature. 12 April 2002 <http://newfirstsearch.oclc.org/WebZ/>.
One rather beautiful day I head down to the building fields of Uruk with my only son Urnabe. He is 14 and he is turning out to be a skilled mason or at least better than his old man. When we get there I see that Binfem was already waiting for me.
An enduring monument to his inadequacy to which he would employ a slumbering retreat. He would wrestle with his body for a brief respite from the perpetual torture that was his insomnia, tossing and turning over every inch of his bed west of the fissure that was once full of love, but never would he attempt to traverse it’s curves and corners for fear of falling into it’s deep, depressive vicinity. He lay there, awake again. His mind a highway of thoughts, only this highway had no lights, no exits, and no colour. He was stood resolute, immovable in the vast sea of movement. Surveying the surroundings that lay before him, he saw only mountainous regions of terrain, casting even more monstrous shadows over him. Each one taller than the last and twice as dark. Some would have the carved faces of past friends, frozen in a state of lament, both in time, and stone. The only solace in the midnight world was a single patch of firm, fresh grass, with a tasteful tartan picnic basket - ribbons and all. Entirely devoid of food, yet still somehow quenching his desires. A single ray of light in an otherwise nefarious expanse, shrouded in atrocities unfit even for the infernal realms of hell. The lighthouse in treacherous waters, guiding him to the reliable shores that are his most vivid and treasured
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
I saw her walk over to the dressing table. I watched her appear in the circular glass of the mirror looking at me now at the end of a back and forth of mathematical light. I watched her keep on looking at me with her great hot-coal eyes: looking at me while she opened the little box covered with pink mother of pearl. I saw her powder her nose. When she finished, she closed the box, stood up again, and walked over to the lamp once more, saying: "I'm afraid that someone is dreaming about this room and revealing my secrets." And over the flame she held the same long and tremulous hand that she had been warming before sitting down at the mirror. And she said: "You don't feel the cold." And I said to her: "Sometimes." And she said to me: "You must feel it now." And then I understood why I couldn't have been alone in the seat. It was the cold that had been giving me the certainty of my solitude. "Now I feel it," I said. "And it's strange because the night is quiet. Maybe the sheet fell off." She didn't answer. Again she began to move toward the mirror and I turned again in the chair, keeping my back to her.
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
The ancient belief that dreams reveal the future is not indeed entirely devoid of the truth. By representing a wish as fulfilled the dream certainly leads us into the future; but this future, which the dreamer accepts as his present, has been shaped in the likeness of the past by the indestructible wish.” (Freud 493). Therefore, our unconscious could have strong links with our personality, in a way that no matter if memory is existent or not, our essence will still remain in our deepest plane of consciousness. The idea of the soul can be interpreted as that very same essence, one that no artificial memory or success can disturb.
...e made up of moments which pass and become nothing. Yet through this shaft of nothings we drive onward with that miraculous vitality that creates our precarious habitations in the past and the future. So we live; a spirit broods and hovers over the continual death of time, the lost meaning, the unrecaptured moment, the unremembered face, until the final chop that ends all our moments and plunges that spirit back into the void from which it came. (p244)
nothingness portray human beings (generally beings, at least, beings more or less human and intact)
“What is the Nothing?” Heidegger analyzes this metaphysical question in his literary works, as he attempts to grasp a sense of this branch of philosophy known as metaphysics. He sets out on this exploration of the human condition by first an analyzing this metaphysical question about Nothing. Heidegger asserts that the use of any traditional logic and/or reasoning in an answer to this question will undoubtedly always result in a failure. This results occurs due to the paradox that forms when one turns “Nothing” into something, they proceed to point out that even some emotions such as love or hate, will not succeed due to their nature to obscure the nothing. Nothing and its ambiguous nature make it difficult to comprehend, but Heidegger suggests
Topic: Hope Purpose: Informing? Speech 2017 : Hope Hope. “A feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen.”