tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17190292.post113479063157745772..comments2023-10-07T05:35:14.064-04:00Comments on Bazungu Bucks: John Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17126222842766191343noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17190292.post-1134799402782452492005-12-17T01:03:00.000-05:002005-12-17T01:03:00.000-05:00Dear Kaunda-What a joy it is to be your friend.Hap...Dear Kaunda-<BR/><BR/>What a joy it is to be your friend.<BR/><BR/>Happy 50th Birthday Party Day!!<BR/><BR/>xo Pingting<BR/>______________________________________________<BR/><BR/>Live this moment as totally as possible. <BR/><BR/>Don't be too sane, because too much sanity leads to insanity. Let a little craziness exist in you. That gives zest to life, that makes life juicy. Let a little irrationality always be there. That makes you capable of playing, being playful; that helps you to relax. A sane person is utterly hung up in the head, he cannot get down from there. He lives upstairs. Live all over the place, this is your house! Upstairs, good, the ground floor, perfectly good -- and the basement is beautiful too. Live all over the place, this is your house. And don't wait for next time, I would like to tell this old woman, because the next time never comes. <BR/><BR/>Not that you will not be born again; you will be born again, but then you will forget. Then you will start again from ABC. This old woman has been here before. She must have been here millions of times before. And I can say to you that each time, nearabout the age of eighty-five, she would have decided the same way: "Next time I'm going to do it differently." But next time you don't remember -- that's the problem. You lose all memory of the past life. Then again you start from ABC and the same thing happens. <BR/><BR/>So I would not say to you to wait for the next time. Take hold of this moment! This is the only time there is, there is no other time. Even if you are eighty-five you can start living. And what is there to lose when you are eighty-five? If you go barefoot on the beach in the spring, if you collect daisies -- even if you die in that, nothing is wrong. To die barefoot on the beach is the right way to die. To die collecting daisies is the right way to die. Whether you are eighty-five or fifteen doesn't matter. Take hold of this moment. Be a Zorba. <BR/><BR/>-OshoDavid Pohlhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16852799866242375975noreply@blogger.com