Negative Self-Judgment – Guest post by, Tina Frisco… | Chris The Story Reading Ape’s Blog

Perhaps the biggest hurdle for those who want to walk the inner path is negative self-judgment – why? Because it is a lie – Eastern sages inform us that our true nature is perfect immortal bliss. Read on…thank you, Tina Frisco!

TINA FRISCO

Christopher Graham, The Story Reading Ape, is a generous soul who regularly hosts other bloggers. If you’re not familiar with our big-hearted Ape, treat yourself to a plethora of terrific posts by visiting his superb BLOG. I want to thank Chris for his generosity and for featuring my post, which I’d like to share with you now ❤ 
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Photo by Ningren Image courtesy of Ningren

The people we tend to be hardest on are ourselves. Some folks are an exception to this, but it seems to be true for most of us.

While I was in Pennsylvania helping care for my mother, I fell into judging myself… harshly… a lot.

I should be doing more. I should move back to Pennsylvania in order to help my sisters meet my mother’s needs. I should not feel guilty that my nephew gave up his bed for me and is sleeping on the…

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CHEAP THRILLS

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9e1a511e7a9166a72e30bd913768d213Growing up in south India at a time when the West was not as accessible as it is to Indians today, my first glimmerings of the wild life I (delusionally) believed all Americans and Europeans led was via the thrillers of writers like James Hadley Chase. Yes, I read Agatha Christie too, and more sedate authors, but it was the paperback thrillers I found most addictive, for they spoke of hippies and drugs and scarlet women pouting at bad guys and getting murdered—and of course there was always the unwary bystander or canny detective who got dragged willy-nilly into the spicy stew.

Oh, how exciting it was to get one of those books in my greedy hands and to devour it at a single stretch! There were times I’d read a book a day, and since it wasn’t easy to find this kind of material lying around then, I’d woo anyone who had a home library and was willing to share his/her hoard with me.

It was my brother-in-law, an academic and professor, who dourly pointed out to me the effects that reading what he called ‘trash’ would have on my impressionable mind. It’s a hard addiction to break, he warned, and when you need to digest serious stuff, you won’t be able to. I dismissed his warnings since I was doing very well in academics myself, and believed, with all the raw arrogance of youth, that I knew better than preachy fuddy-duddies how to separate study from fun. Continue reading

Once you read a book you care about…QUOTES FOR WRITERS (and readers)

I write Spiritual Fiction which clearly does not appeal to the mainstream, for quite often I get messages from those who read my Moksha Trilogy (3 books on enlightenment) that say they loved the read and are re-reading them because they are loaded with spiritual gems. And how happy that makes me! Genuine words of appreciation even from a few are worth more to me that the millions of dollars some mainstream writers earn. Honestly.

BRIDGET WHELAN writer

girl-2806276_640Once you have read a book you care about, some part of it is always with you.
Louis L’Amour

What books are always with you? The first book that came into my head was Little Women, read at age 9.

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MOUNTAIN GODDESS

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14876327_10155479883214199_334843953_o-768x575When I first landed in Dharamsala in the foothills of the Himalayas, straight from the frenetic city of Manhattan, I was lost and bewildered by a strange new world. Soon I found my way to the Tibetan Library, where every morning a beautiful old Geshe, aided by an English female translator, patiently taught us the ancient scriptures. I was sitting outside the small cafeteria when I saw a woman I liked on sight, nonchalantly rolling a cigarette. I asked her to roll me one, whereupon she handed me the fixings and retorted sarkily that if I wanted one, I’d have to roll it myself. Oh, I thought, amused, liking her even more, for she reminded me of folks in Manhattan who are also uncomfortably direct but also possess shining hearts of gold if you stick around long enough to get past the prickly surface.

We became friends, and I discovered she lived right above my beautiful apartment with the huge glass windows, through which I could gaze at the splendor of the snow-clad Himalayas. As a seasoned practitioner capable of handling any crisis, she was often impatient with me, rightly viewing me as a spoiled infant with no clue how to handle herself in a small Himalayan township peopled by hardy Tibetans (most of whom had bravely made their way over the mountains to be with their charismatic leader, who incidentally lived a mere ten minute walk away from me on the peak of a hill guarded by both Indians and his own people) and equally tough Indians. Continue reading

Neither all instruction, nor all entertainment, say Margaret Atwood QUOTES FOR WRITERS (and people who like quotes)

I write “spiritual novels” because I want to share all that I was so generously given by so many great ones…and to leave a lingering impression on the soul…I’m not impressed by mere technical brilliance…

BRIDGET WHELAN writer

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If it’s all instruction, you get annoyed with it and bored, and you stop reading. If it’s all entertainment, you read it quite quickly, your heart going pitty-pat, pitty-pat. But when you finish, that’s it. You’re not going to think about it much afterward, apart from the odd nightmare. You’re not going to read that book again.
Maragret Atwood

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I REJECT YOUR GIFT

ac9a6ed443d206599b4d58f92afee35aI write my morning posts off the top of my head, meaning I don’t generally research the topic, so you  must forgive me if I use ancient stories merely as devices to get a message across, and don’t bother unduly about details or settings. Anyway, this morning it struck me in a new way that some humans are so damaged that they cannot express their intense feelings for others except via negative comments, passive-aggressive behavior, slurs or downright untruths.

Now Gautama Buddha’s beautiful wife Yashodhara had a brother, Devadatta, who hated his brother-in-law for several reasons—not least that he had abandoned his beloved sister to follow the path to enlightenment. Devadatta did not simmer silently nor alone, no; he sneaked around the Buddha’s sangha (congregation of monks) making trouble and telling terrible lies about the sage. The Buddha tolerated him, of course, for nothing can fracture the equanimity of a true sage. But one day, when Devadatta crossed the line yet again and began to spew insults at him, Gautama said something like this: I know that anger is all you have to offer me, Devadatta, but nevertheless I reject your gift. Continue reading

Mass Murderers Both

Man has burned his fingers too often…read this poem – one way of dealing with our turbulent feelings about psychopaths…

newauthoronline

Yesterday evening I bumped into an old acquaintance in the pub. Our conversation ranged far and wide and at one point touched on the atrocities perpetrated by Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin. There was some discussion as to which dictator was the worst criminal, with my acquaintance maintaining that Stalin was the greater due to him having murdered around 20 million of his own people. My view of the matter is set-out in my poem, “Hitler and Stalin” which first appeared here some time ago:

The Gulag.
The present like the past is mad.
Black clad figures
Their fingers on triggers.
Russian or Prussian?
An interesting discussion.
Jews and Kulaks their lives lose.
Who to choose?
A man drowning in his country’s blood,
Or one who would destroy Jewry if he could?
What a choice.
History’s voice
is cold and level,
“We allied with the devil,
To destroy his…

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EMPTY WORDS

Kiri 16GB sd card 6886Before I moved into my own home here in Tiru, I had four landlords over a space of three years, each of whom was nightmarish in their own unique way. One was so slippery that he would assure me he would be over in ten minutes to fix a tap or whatever, but would simply never show. But when it came to collecting his rent, or to complain to me ad nauseam about the “foreigners” here (whom he had a strangely schizophrenic relationship with—on the surface, obsequious and smarmy, because he wanted them to rent his properties, behind their backs, virulently critical and mean), he was, ha ha ha, amazingly prompt.

Once I moved into my home, I realized that, although hopefully I had left all slimy landlords behind, another major mundane problem had raised its pointy little head: which is that workmen would assure me they would be over right away to fix something or the other, but they too would never show, or arrive hours after their appointment when I had already left home—and then they would accuse me of not being home to receive their lordships! Since my command over Tamil is terrible, I had no way of expressing my shocked disbelief at their bad behavior, and besides, I needed them to survive; and so I swallowed by anger and kept going, a day at a time. Continue reading

The Dark Hand

JanniStyles1

A life of dark cycles

Re – repeated

Indulgence wins

Good sense unseated

Cries out  for help

All answered kindly

Yet ill choices made

Consequence never timely

No turning back clocks

No re-walking sly walks

Still the narcissist

Talks, talks, and talks

I’m Gonna’ I’m gonna’ gonna’

Theme of his whole life

Near six long decades proof

Not including many decade’s wife

No pity for his bad choices

And do not ever tell her

She does not understand

Many decades lost to ill choice

Of one most determined man

Bound to an ill fate

By his very own hand

(c) Janni Styles

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The Dust Bowl of The 1930

The Manhattan I knew seemed to have no recollection of the Great Depression…I believe it is good to know our past so that we can honor the fruits of the present. Thanks, ALK3R!

ALK3R

Migrant agricultural worker's family. Seven hungry children. Mother aged thirty-two. Father is a native Californian. Destitute in pea picker's camp, Nipomo, California, because of the failure of the early pea crop. These people had just sold their tent in order to buy food. Of the twenty-five hundred people in this camp most of them were destitute, March 1936. (Dorthea Lange/Library of Congress/LC-USF34-T01-009093)

The 1930s were some of the driest years in American history. Eight long years of drought, preceded by inappropriate cultivation technique, and the financial crises of the Great Depression forced many farmers off the land abandoning their fields throughout the Great Plains that run across the heart of mainland United States.

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