“Byron Katie is one of the truly great and inspiring teachers of our time. I encourage everyone to immerse themselves in this phenomenal book.” –Dr. Wayne W. Editorial Reviews. From Publishers Weekly. This unusual collaboration brings together the Way (the Tao) and the Work, Katie's form of self-inquiry and path to. Inspired by the Tao Te Ching, this is Byron Katie's inspiring and pragmatic approach to achieving an awakened mind and living more simply and profoundly .
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Yoga Center of Carmel Book Discussion Series. A THOUSAND NAMES FOR JOY. Living in Harmony with the Way Things Are by Byron Katie. Facilitated by. A Thousand Names for Joy book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. In her first two books, Byron Katie showed how suffering.. . A Thousand Names for Joy - Download | Read | PDF |. EPUB. Inspired by the Tao Te Ching, this is Byron Katie's inspiring and pragmatic approach to achieving.
Now, in A Thousand Names for Joy, she encourages us to discover the freedom that lives on the other side of inquiry. Stephen Mitchell--the renowned translator of the Tao Te Ching--selected provocative excerpts from that ancient text as a stimulus for Katie to talk about the most essential issues that face us all: life and death, good and evil, love, work, and fulfillment.
With her stories of total ease in all circumstances, Katie does more than describe the awakened mind; she lets you see it, feel it, in action. The tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao. You can't express reality in words. You limit it that way.
You squeeze it into nouns and verbs and adjectives, and the instant-by-instant Xow is cut oV. The tao that can be told isn't the eternal Tao, because trying to tell it brings it into time. It's stopped in time by the very attempt to name it. Once anything is named, it's no longer eternal. There's no name for what's sitting in this chair right now. I am the experience of the eternal.
Even with the thought "God," it all stops and manifests in time, and as I create "God," I have created "not-God.
Before you name anything, the world has no things in it, no meaning. There's nothing but peace in a wordless, questionless world. It's the space where everything is already answered, in joyful silence. In this world before words, there is only the real--undivided, ungraspable, already present.
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Any apparently separate thing can't be real, since the mind has created it with its names. When we understand this, the unreal becomes beautiful, because there's nothing that can threaten the real.
I don't ever see anything separate called "tree" or "you" or "I. Naming is the origin of all the particular things that make up the world of illusion, the dream world. To break oV part of the everything and name it "tree" is the Wrst dream. I call it "Wrst-generation thinking. It takes a child just a moment to fall into the dream world, the dream of a world, when she Wrst connects word with thing. And it takes you just a moment to question it, to break the spell and be grateful for the Tao of everything--tree, no tree; world, no world.
When the mind believes what it thinks, it names what cannot be named and tries to make it real through a name. It believes that its names are real, that there's a world out there separate from itself. That's an illusion. The whole world is projected. When you're shut down and frightened, the world seems hostile; when you love what is, everything in the world becomes the beloved.
Inside and outside always match--they're reXections of each other.
The world is the mirror image of your mind. Not believing your own thoughts, you're free from the primal desire: the thought that reality should be diVerent than it is. You realize the wordless, the unthinkable. You understand that any mystery is only what you yourself have created. In fact, there's no mystery.
Everything is as clear as day. It's simple, because there really isn't anything. There's only the story appearing now. And not even that. In the end, "mystery" is equal to "manifestations.
The world is an optical illusion. It's just you, crazed and miserable, or you, delighted and at peace. In the end, "desire" is equal to "free from desire. Everything happens for you, not to you. I have questioned my thoughts, and I've seen that it's crazy to argue with what is. I don't ever want anything to happen except what's happening. For example, my ninety-year-old mother is dying of pancreatic cancer.
I'm taking care of her, cooking and cleaning for her, sleeping beside her, living in her apartment twenty-three hours a day my husband takes me out for a walk every morning. It has been a month now. It's as if her breath is the pulse of my life. I bathe her, I wash her in the most personal places, I medicate her, and I feel such a sense of gratitude. That's me over there, dying of cancer, spending my last few days sleeping and watching TV and talking, medicated with the most marvelous painkilling drugs.
I am amazed at the beauty and intricacies of her body, my body. And the last day of her life, as I sit by her bedside, a shift takes place in her breathing, and I know: it's only a matter of minutes now.
And then another shift takes place, and I know. Our eyes lock, and a few moments later she's gone. I look more deeply into the eyes that the mind has vacated, the mindless eyes, the eyes of the no-mind.
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I wait for a change to take place. I wait for the eyes to show me death, and nothing changes. She's as present as she ever was. I love my story about her. How else could she ever exist? A man sticks a pistol into my stomach, pulls the hammer back, and says, "I'm going to kill you. To someone identiWed as an I, the thought of killing causes guilt that leads to a life of suVering, so I ask him, as kindly as I can, not to do it.
I don't tell him that it's his suVering I'm thinking of. He says that he has to do it, and I understand; I remember believing that I had to do things in my old life.
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I thank him for doing the best he can, and I notice that I'm fascinated. Is this how she dies? Is this how the story ends? And as joy continues to Wll me, I Wnd it miraculous that the story is still going on.
You can never know the ending, even as it ends. I am very moved at the sight of sky, clouds, and moonlit trees. I love that I don't miss one moment, one breath, of this amazing life. I wait.
And wait. And in the end, he doesn't pull the trigger. He doesn't do that to himself. What we call "bad" and what we call "good" both come from the same place. The Tao Te Ching says that the source of everything is called "darkness. Darkness is our source. In the end, it embraces everything. Its nature is love, and in our confusion we name it terror and ugliness, the unacceptable, the unbearable.
All our stress results from what we imagine is in that darkness. We imagine darkness as separate from ourselves, and we project something terrible onto it.
But in reality, the darkness is always benevolent. What is the "darkness within darkness"? It's the mind that doesn't know a thing. This don't-know mind is the center of the universe--it is the universe--there's nothing outside it.
The reason that darkness is the gateway to all understanding is that once the darkness is understood, you're clear that nothing is separate from you. No name, no thought, can possibly be true in an ultimate sense. It's all provisional; it's all changing. The dark, the nameless, the unthinkable--that is what you can absolutely trust.
It doesn't change, and it's benevolent. When you realize this, you just have to laugh. There's nothing serious about life or death. With attention-grabbing biographies of all ten geniuses, own self-assessments, and functional workouts, this booklet is the most important to unlocking the genius inside of you!
BRUCE: correct. That by no means happened to me. KATIE: ok. Now provide me 3 ways that you simply did that.
BRUCE: i used to be afraid you have been going to invite that. KATIE: sure. KATIE: certain. You moved clear of inquiry and into your tale.
BRUCE: ok. How else did you abandon her? BRUCE: i'd withdraw, i might stalemate, i'd shut off to her. BRUCE: good, she truly moved around the kingdom.I expected them not to do these things simply because I said so. When you're a lover of what is, your suffering is over. I like him much better than I like my thoughts about him. To me, a car alarm is as beautiful as a bird singing. I begin to slice.
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