Blah, Blah, Blah
Funny how mentioning Krishnamurti seems to raise people's ire and suspicion. And, somehow, when one mentions that he or she likes Krishnamurti, suddenly that person does not believe in beliefs, scriptures, or even Truth. I was questioned by more than one school administrator for using him in classrooms, though never asked why, or how.
Wow. Could not be further from the Truth.
As for me, and I can only speak for myself, as it does not matter what others have said before me, or for that matter after me, I alone can be responsible for saying what I do or do not "believe" in.
I love words. They are my life. I cherish and value them like good friends. I am grateful for the writers, prophets, both false and true, who came before me to provide me with good material to read and to contemplate.
But, in the end, when the day is done, what have we said, what have we gained, what have we dared to loose if it is merely words, words, words?
I believe in many things. I believe the world is as it should be, for it is the best of all possible worlds. I believe in love, laughter, pain, sorrow, loss, anger, fear, and every other human emotion. But, why write? Why blog? Why do we do it?
Do we have a new tale to tell?
No New Tale to Tell
OR
Is it All in My Mind?
Funny how mentioning Krishnamurti seems to raise people's ire and suspicion. And, somehow, when one mentions that he or she likes Krishnamurti, suddenly that person does not believe in beliefs, scriptures, or even Truth. I was questioned by more than one school administrator for using him in classrooms, though never asked why, or how.
Wow. Could not be further from the Truth.
As for me, and I can only speak for myself, as it does not matter what others have said before me, or for that matter after me, I alone can be responsible for saying what I do or do not "believe" in.
I love words. They are my life. I cherish and value them like good friends. I am grateful for the writers, prophets, both false and true, who came before me to provide me with good material to read and to contemplate.
But, in the end, when the day is done, what have we said, what have we gained, what have we dared to loose if it is merely words, words, words?
I believe in many things. I believe the world is as it should be, for it is the best of all possible worlds. I believe in love, laughter, pain, sorrow, loss, anger, fear, and every other human emotion. But, why write? Why blog? Why do we do it?
Do we have a new tale to tell?
No New Tale to Tell
OR
Is it All in My Mind?
