Monday, May 14, 2007

limekiln flower

limekiln flower, originally uploaded by emdot.

Renunciation has both sadness and joy in it: sadness because you realize the futility of your old ways, and joy because of the greater vision that begins to unfold when you are able to let go of them. This is no ordinary joy. It is a joy that gives birth to a new and profound strength, a confidence, an abiding inspiration that comes from the realization that you are not condemned to your habits, that you can indeed emerge from them, that you can change, and grow more and more free. — Sogyal Rinpoche
Renunciation. That is what I meant when I said surrender. They are similar creatures, I think. Or maybe I should check the dictionary.

1 comment:

suzume said...

To renunce, to surrender, to hit a wall... to have reached a deadlock...
I agree with you (if you permit) that life suggests to you perhaps not merely to change your habits, but to widen, to dilate, to expand your view (of the world, of life, of your life...).
You look tired, indeed, and when tired, we follow the straightest and narrowest line; it coasts an effort to look to the right or to the left, and up at the sky; we overdo it.
Maybe also it suggests to you not to rebel against what resists you, but to deal with it: it is perhaps trying to tell you something you deserve to know (that's what I think about mistakes, and I have written a bit about it here... where you can see how I've come across your blog).
Be that as it may, you need rest, at least one full night, you need to stop to catch your breath (literally).
Don't you think that “surrender” sounds more dramatic than “renunciation”?
I love the way you explore life.
I send you lots of kisses from Paris, and take you in my brotherly arms.