dao santity

Every soul is inviable. Any thought can be private. The deepest goal is to Find sanctity’s source. The body may be ravaged and hacked into pieces, but the mind must never be invaded. It is only when we permit other to influence us that our us that our minds may be entered*. Evil may thrive on enslaving us physically, emotionally, or mentally, but it can do so only by deception. That is why we must remember the sanctity of our own souls. Our thoughts are private. As long as we are determined, evil cannot sway us. People think that others can read minds or that the gods watch our every movement. No master, no psychic, no god can enter our inner gate if we choose not to let them in. By withdrawing into the sanctity of our souls, we can also know ourselves. This effort cannot be carried forth by others. If can only be accomplished through the self-effort of living and engaging in ongoing contemplation. Only we can enter the most sacred core of our beings and find the secrets of life. sanctity 365 Tao Daily Meditations Deng Ming-Dao ISBN 0-06-250223-9 ( '? note *however, a child has no boundaries or choice to deny such entrance Proud of their traditional culture, these artists illustrate Maithil rituals or to make paintings of gods Ram and Sita who, according to legend, married in Janakpur. And in the "office" where they sang songs or told tales of the Hindu gods, they naturally painted scenes from the Ramayana or from Maithil songs and folktales. Many women have enjoyed painting the Maithil tale of Anjur, a tale in which a new bride is made to do impossible tasks by her jealous sisters-in-law, and each time is helped by sympathetic birds or snakes. They often mix images of other tales with Anjur's tale, and similarly Gods will appear in scenes of family planning. This mixing of themes is a reflection of the real world of the Janakpur artists today. this painting is called Marriage of Ram and Sita the artist: Anuragi Jha What am 1-40, 50, 60? Let's say I'm fifty five years old. It tells on my citizenship card. In those days when I began school we used a board painted black and a stick of mud for writing. I was just learning the alphabet when one day my friends and I burst into laughter at something the teacher said. He hit me hard on the cheek and when my grandfather who was also a teacher saw my swollen face he fired that teacher, saying his blow was an insult to our prestige. So our prestige wasn't lost — but I lost my life. When another teacher came to the village, they didn't let me go, back to school with my four brothers. One day someone came selling cloth parrots which we dangle over a child to amuse him. I was fascinated by those parrots and took one into my father's eggplant field and dissected it. Having seen how it was stuffed with leaves and sewn, I began to make my own. That's why I like parrots so much. I also made them by flattening mud between two leaves which left their imprint on the body of the bird. And I drew them in sand, and then I learned how to make arapan (ritual rice paste designs) from my grandmother. My grandmother was known for her arapan, and whoever was having a haircutting ceremony or a marriage would ask her five days in advance to paint for them. This made my grandfather, who said she should spend her time preparing food, angry with her, but she said, what am I supposed to do, cut off my hands? We lived near Saurat where every year there's a big fair where fathers meet to arrange the marriages of Brahman boys. At the fair my father suggested to a friend to bring his son to marry me. That night at our house they came to discuss the marriage. My husband wore earrings, bracelets and a necklace with Hanuman. The next morning we were married. I was eleven years old. At that time I had no idea what marriage meant. I'd always played and worn few clothes. When they put me in a sari I tripped and fell. The first night we were put in a room together my husband was too shy to talk. I asked him, "Do you have land? How far have you studied?" I cried when I heard he hadn't studied at all — his village had no school. Four years later I moved to his village. At that time, my husband slept with his father and I slept with his sister, until the time his sister was married and left for her husband's house. My first child was born when I was 16, and later I had three more. At my husband's house I decorated the walls for his sister's wedding the way I'd learned from my grandmother. I made my paints from dung, bean leaves, and other plants, and I mixed them with milk. After that women came at night to see my paintings — we weren't allowed to go out during the day. It was at the time of my marriage that I decided that doing worship was important. I had worshipped Mahadev (Shiva) for husband and quickly I'd received one. I believed if I'd worshipped harder, I might have been given an educated husband. So I worshipped more and more so that my children would study — if they didn't, what would happen to them? I also became religious because my grandparents had taken me to a dance for Krishna. I had the faith then that Krishna would stay with me. And so it is with my paintings — I believe if I show gods in my paintings then everything in my life will turn out all right. It's just like the story of Meera. One day Meera had seen a wedding party pass and asked her mother when she could have a husband. Her mother pointed to a picture on the wall of Krishna and told her that he was Meera's husband. She believed this and therefore worshipped Krishna. Later when her parents wanted to marry her off, she said, I am already married to Krishna. After she was forced to marry, her new in-laws were unhappy that she spent so much time in worship. They put a snake in the pot that she used to worship and hoped it would kill her. But when Meera opened the pot during her rituals, there was a necklace of flowers. In painting is faith that there will be no pain. For one thing, I earn money so that I can afford to worship at the temple each day and to make pilgrimmages. If I didn't have this work, I would spend my day praying. Going to the temple is the most important thing. But since I must work, why not do my worship by painting gods at the center? The god I love the most is Hanuman. He is the strongest of the gods. You can identify my paintings because of the gods, but also because I fill in the space completely. I have to concentrate to make sure colors alternate properly. In many paintings I also draw parrots and elephants because these bring happiness. text and images © JWDC T A O t e C H I N G f i f t y - s e v e n If you want to be a great leader, you must learn to follow the Tao. Stop trying to control. Let go of fixed plans and concepts, and the world will govern itself. The more prohibitions you have, the less virtuous people will be. The more weapons you have, the less secure people will be. The more subsidies you have, the less self-reliant people will be. Therefore the Master says: I let go of the law, and people become honest. I let go of economics, and people become prosperous. I let go of religion, and people become serene. I let go of all desire for the common good, and the good becomes common as grass. — translation by GIA-FU FENG If you want to be a great leader, you must learn to follow the Tao. Stop trying to control. Let go of fixed plans and concepts, and the world will govern itself. The more prohibitions you have, the less virtuous people will be. The more weapons you have, the less secure people will be. The more subsidies you have, the less self-reliant people will be. Therefore the Master says: I let go of the law, and people become honest. I let go of economics, and people become prosperous. I let go of religion, and people become serene. I let go of all desire for the common good, and the good becomes common as grass. — translation by STEVEN MITCHELL a reading list of books and interpretations of the Daodejing is available at http://wwww.duckdaotsu.org/dao_books.html for a meditation sent to your email address each day, please write ’subscribe tao’ in the subject line and send to lisbeth at duckdaotsu