Karen's Korner's avatar

Karen's Korner

Real learning comes about when the competitive spirit has ceased.

Krishnamurti (via thecalminside)

I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.

Mahatma Gandhi (via culturejolt)

Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.

Rumi (via thecalminside)

People’s Essence becomes visible when they receive your full attention: their posture changes; their words change and their eyes light up. Your attention creates a space in which this is possible. It is a gift.

Mon (via flowgently)

There’s a longing deep within the wandering soul
It’s like the half that understands it once was whole

~ John Denver

(via seedeeply)

When I was a boy, a little Parisian growing up in the days of gaslight and rationing, my father sent me to take some air in the countryside, where I was cared for by an old couple. The husband was a gardener, he tinkered with this and that, between carrot plants and rows of begonias. The old chap was sweet and gentle, even towards his enemies the snails. When his wife was around, he wouldn’t open his mouth, you would have thought that she had cut off his tongue, and maybe something else, too. He wasn’t even allowed to go the bistrot with his friends. I was his confidant, the only person, I think, who ever really took an interest in his story. He told me about a time long ago when he had been a man. It had lasted four terrible and mighty years, from 1914 to 1918.

He may have been a bit simple, but he had a sharp eye and a steady arm. An officer had taken note of the chap’s talent and made him an elite sniper, which was a privilege. Armed with his Lebel, he shot the enemy to pieces with passion and precision, without hatred or remorse. Free to choose his target and his hours, exempt from most chores, he was somebody. He shot officers in epaulettes, stripes and Feldgrau. He cited some improbable numbers, probably inflated in his chattering little head over thirty years of solitary ruminations.

Thanks to him, I discovered a staggering truth: that the life of a man does not consist of the wretched years that drag themselves from the cradle to the grave, but of a few, rare, dazzling flashes of lightning; those are the only ones worthy of being called life. The moments we owe to war, love, adventure, mystical ecstasy, or creation. To him, the war had generously granted four years of life, an inordinate privilege compared to all the bipeds who go to their graves without ever having lived.

Dominique Venner, “Le cœur rebelle” (“The Rebel Heart”)

It is a basic human need that everyone wants to
live a happy life. For this, one has to experience
real happiness. The so-called happiness that one
experiences by having money, power, and
indulging in sensual pleasures is not real
happiness. It is very fragile, unstable and fleeting.
For real happiness, for lasting stable happiness,
one has to make a journey deep within oneself and
get rid of all the unhappiness stored in the deeper
levels of the mind. As long as there is misery at
the depth of the mind all attempts to feel happy
at the surface level of the mind prove futile.

S.N. Goenka  (via abiding-in-peace)

Many wonders I have seen. I have not seen a wonder like you.

Rumi (via shaktilover)