Sounds..

It is very nice to hear the noises that happen when there are moving parts...certainly not intentional, and mostly unavoidable...and perhaps that is what makes it worth listening to. Very reassuring. Mechanical they may be, but there is something unpretentious about them.

Got the same peace when watching the waves crash on the seashore. Noise it may be but there is something about that natural sound, unintentional, inseparable from the movement itself, and happening because of the movement, the sound being an integral part of the movement. Donno of others but I thought I could go into deep meditation with just the sound of it listened to uninterrupted. It was difficult to walk off from the shore without some internal process completing..and when i finally did, something was complete within me...and a lot of pieces had fallen into place.

Reminiscing..

The movie, King and I (1956), has a scene where the widow and her son, just off the ship to the King's place hums a song about whistling a happy tune whenever anxious, perturbed, or feeling unsettled, and that the happy tune will ease it all out. Much like the 'All izz well' of the 3 idiots. Just that somehow the music does it much faster than the 'all is well.'

Lost and found..

Putting in the seed

                        Robert Frost

You come to fetch me from my work to-night

When supper's on the table, and we'll see

If I can leave off burying the white

Soft petals fallen from the apple tree

(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,

Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea);

And go along with you ere you lose sight

Of what you came for and become like me,

Slave to a Springtime passion for the earth.

How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed

On through the watching for that early birth

When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,

The sturdy seedling with arched body comes

Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs

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Character 

                        R.W.Emerson

The sun set, but set not his hope:

Stars rose; his faith was earlier up:

Fixed on the enormous galaxy,

Deeper and older seemed his eye;

And matched his sufferance sublime

The taciturnity of time.

He spoke, and words more soft than rain

Brought the Age of Gold again:

His action won such reverence sweet

As hid all measure of the feat.

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Brahma 

                        R.W.Emerson

  If the red slayer think he slays,

Or if the slain think he is slain,

They know not well the subtle ways

I keep, and pass, and turn again.

Far or forgot to me is near;

Shadow and sunlight are the same;

The vanished gods to me appear;

And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;

When me they fly, I am the wings;

I am the doubter and the doubt,

And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,

And pine in vain the sacred Seven;

But thou, meek lover of the good!

Find me, and turn thy back on heaven