Help
Sign In
RSS Feed
|
Random Acts of CompassionHummingBird said Jul 1, 11:21 PM: |
||
|
Committing to and also sharing acts of compassion. |
|||
Permalink
Print
Email
|
Re: Random Acts of Compassioniljungseansassonsalaam said Jul 2, 12:37 AM: |
||
|
I now describe all my interactions with others as making love. This is making love. |
|||
|
Re: Random Acts of CompassionNicole said Jul 2, 5:49 AM: |
||
|
sometimes compassion is just listening to someone who needs a caring ear. some people have a very hard time getting others to listen as they tend to go on at length and be more of a one-way street in their interactions. |
|||
|
Re: Random Acts of Compassionyinyangbigbang said Jul 3, 2:24 PM: |
||
|
I love this idea, and understand it from the depths of my soul. I strive to bring the sacred dance of the divine masculine/feminine connection into my life and with all that is around me. Making love or being in fear is really all there is. |
|||
|
Re: Random Acts of CompassionPhoenix said Jul 2, 6:00 AM: |
||
|
Every breath is an opportunity to show and bring compassion. The intention alone draws that energy toward you, opens the door to connecting with others in compassion. |
|||
|
|
Re: Random Acts of CompassionHummingBird said Jul 2, 7:15 AM: |
||
|
I'm enjoying the deep inward reaching to explore this most precious of topics. May I take the opportunity to share this poem which to me reflects great compassion - brings tears to me eyes each time - Call Me by My True Names
Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow because even today I still arrive. Look deeply: I arrive in every second to be a bud on a spring branch, to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile, learning to sing in my new nest, to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone. I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, in order to fear and to hope. The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that are alive. I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river, and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time to eat the mayfly. I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond, and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence, feeds itself on the frog. I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks, and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda. I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat, who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate, and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving. I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hands, and I am the man who has to pay his “debt of blood” to, my people, dying slowly in a forced labor camp. My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all walks of life. My pain if like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans. Please call me by my true names, so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once, so I can see that my joy and pain are one. Please call me by my true names, so I can wake up, and so the door of my heart can be left open, the door of compassion. Thich Nhat Hanh |
|||
|
Re: Random Acts of CompassionZephyr said Jul 2, 1:07 PM: |
||
|
What compassion means to me after many years in nursing - |
|||
