Mr. Sydney Banks, author, philosopher, lecturer, father, husband, mystic, passed away in the morning, Memorial Day, May 25.
Mr. Banks' life and work demonstrated that an ordinary, uneducated person has access to unlimited reservoirs of Love and Intelligence.
In my own life, he showed me that what I thought was real, was not. And that this "boring old world" was full of mystery and miracle. What personal contact I had with him always brought great leaps of understanding and opened new realms for me of feeling and gratitude. Sometimes, in his presence, the world would tremble and wobble in my peripheral vision, & a great openness would happen within, a Spirit, a feeling, boundless in its magnitude--almost frightening--would descend. Then, it would be gone as quickly as it had come. Leaving a sense of promise of more to come ...
Mr. Banks was inordinately generous with his knowledge when he felt that someone sincerely wanted to learn. And his simple, workaday approach to mystical knowledge, his emphasis on "plain" positivity, hope and human kindness made an end to suffering possible for so many thousands of people--from professionals to inmates to young children.
It was always Mr. Banks' hope that the great helping fields of psychology and psychiatry--which nobly work to alleviate the world's suffering--would finally come to see the logic of his Divine principles: Mind, Consciousness and Thought. We experience what we think. And there is so much more in us than we know.
For more information, please see Mr. Banks' website at sydneybanks.org, or see any of his many books, including: The Missing Link: Reflections on Philosophy & Spirit, The Enlightened Gardener, The Enlightened Gardener Revisited, Dear Liza, and etc. Audiovisuals (DVD's, etc.) are at www.lonepinepublishing.com ... (Click on Self-Help or Psychology.)
Goodbye, Syd!
And Thank You.
I wish I'd had more time with you ...
Musings and Rumi-nations on Spirituality, Parenting, Multiculturalism and Humanbeingness, with Pomes and Prosetry ... and Heaps of Love, from a Mystical Mama ... All rights reserved.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
When the Child Calls
When the Child calls
let her pull you in
(this time, at least)
Observe as she reaches for This Moment,
pulling it toward her, too
The sand, so different
there's a crunch-smoosh, crunch-smoosh
Each wave with its Name
& Spirit
The Beach! ... it is
Full of screams!
Shape shifting waters,
running, crashing, pulling,
each wave, pulling for Home
where all waves become One
after their brief lives, alone
(but not alone, really, were they?
This, the child knows)
And hot sand cools to warm sand &
wet & sticky sand
Sand crabs, broken shell
Sea gull, fetid smell
All awash in the freshest of breezes
(the Sea's is)
Maybe, a moment,
You will Live again
Play is just presence
The Child Within!
Who was with you, was you, all this time
(as wave with ocean)
Welcome back, my Friend!
Let's expect
More to come.
(Remember: He said,
You must be, He said,
Like the little children.)
let her pull you in
(this time, at least)
Observe as she reaches for This Moment,
pulling it toward her, too
The sand, so different
there's a crunch-smoosh, crunch-smoosh
Each wave with its Name
& Spirit
The Beach! ... it is
Full of screams!
Shape shifting waters,
running, crashing, pulling,
each wave, pulling for Home
where all waves become One
after their brief lives, alone
(but not alone, really, were they?
This, the child knows)
And hot sand cools to warm sand &
wet & sticky sand
Sand crabs, broken shell
Sea gull, fetid smell
All awash in the freshest of breezes
(the Sea's is)
Maybe, a moment,
You will Live again
Play is just presence
The Child Within!
Who was with you, was you, all this time
(as wave with ocean)
Welcome back, my Friend!
Let's expect
More to come.
(Remember: He said,
You must be, He said,
Like the little children.)
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