View allAll Photos Tagged Prostrate
A trip to see the Chalkhill Blues at Barnack Hills and Holes NNR this week proved to be fruitful with plenty on the wing by 8.30am. Here are two males, not the best specimens i photographed but probably the better of the compositions i did, even though i was battling with the breeze and the occasional dogs who were interested in why i was lying prostrate on the grass paths!
Genista germanica (Fabaceae) 100 19
Genista germanica or German Greenweed is a plant species in the genus Genista belonging to the family Fabaceae.
This species grows in Central Europe, Western Europe and Southern Europe. These shrubs can be found in thickets, poor pastures, heaths and dry meadows, preferably on acidic soils, usually between 0–800 meters, rarely up to 1,400 meters above sea level.
Genista germanica can grow to 0.6 meters. These small perennial shrubs may have erect or prostrate stems, woody at the base, with robust simple or branched thorns. Only the young branches are green, slightly hairy. The deciduous leaves are oval-lanceolate, bright green and pubescent. The flowers are gathered in short racemes, the calyx is pubescent with lanceolate teeth, the corolla is yellow. They bloom in May and June. The fruits are ovoid legumes of about 10 mm, with 2 to 4 ovoid, brownish seeds.
From Wikipedia.
Faithfull Tibetan Buddhists prostrate themselves before entering the sacred Jokhang Temple in central Lhasa. For many Tibetans it is the most sacred and important temple in Tibet and people come from across the region, often by foot, to worship here.
Je crois que Carbone est amoureux du chat en pierre (voir plus bas) !
A propos de Carbone il est à la maison en ce moment, roulé en boule prostré sur le canapé, alors que ça fait des jours et des jours qu'il vit carrément dehors. Grosse inquiétude en raison de son insuffisance rénale jusqu'à ce que je réalise qu'il a plein de blessures sur la tête et qu'il a perdu son collier. Bon je suppose que le guerrier doit reprendre des forces.
I think Carbon is in love with the stone cat (see below)!
About Carbone he is at home right now, curled up prostrated on the sofa, while he was really living outdoor all these last days. Big concern because of his kidney failure until I realized he was full of injuries on the head and he lost his collar. Welle I guess the warrior needs to regain strength.
Meaning of derogate in Hindi
SYNONYMS AND OTHER WORDS FOR derogate
अपने को नीच बनाना→derogate,prostrate oneself बेक़दर करना→derogate,detract,play down छोटा बनाना→detract,derogate नीच ठहराना→derogate,detract,play down अपने को हीन बनाना→derogate हीनता दिखाना→p...
Meaning of derogate matlab, meaning derogate hindi, synonyms derogate hindi
#DerogateMatlab, #MeaningDerogateHindi, #SynonymsDerogateHindi
Swamp Pea
Prostrate to ascending, many-stemmed, slender shrub, 0.1-1.2 m high. Fl. yellow-orange-red, Jun to Dec. White, grey or peaty sand. Swampy places. florabase.dpaw.wa.gov.au/browse/profile/3872
Photos: Fred
Sr Santo Ninyo de Cebu
SANTO NIÑO PRAYER
O miraculous Santo Niño. We prostrate
before Your sacred image we beseech You
to cast a merciful look on our troubled hearts.
Let your tender love, so inclined to pity,
be softened at our prayers,
and grant us that grace for
which we ardently implore You.
Take from us all unbearable affliction and despair.
For your sacred infancy’s sake
hear our prayers and send us Your consolation
and aid that we may praise You,
with the Father and the Holy Spirit,
forever and ever. Amen
#1 Ar-Rahman
The All-Compassionate
The Most Gracious has imparted this Qur'an unto man.
He has created man: He has imparted unto him articulate thought and speech.
At His behest the sun and the moon run their appointed courses; before Him prostrate themselves the stars and the trees.
And the skies has He raised high, and has devised for all things a measure, so that you too, O men, might never transgress the measure of what is right: weight, therefore, your deeds with equity, and cut not the measure short!
and the earth has He spread out for all living beings, with fruit thereon, and palm trees with sheathed clusters of dates, and grain growing tall on its stalks, and sweet-smelling plants.
Which, then, of your Sustainer's powers can you disavow?
Ar-Rahman 55:1-13, tr. Asad
I.D. anyone?
Many thanks to Penny T for coming up with the i.d. that seems to have stumped the rest of us. This is a Grevillea (Mason's Hybrid). According to Wikipedia, Grevillea is a diverse genus of about 360 species of evergreen flowering plants in the protea family Proteaceae, native to Australia, New Guinea, New Caledonia, and Sulawesi. It was named in honour of Charles Francis Greville. The species range from prostrate shrubs less than 0.5 m tall to trees 35 m tall. Common names include Grevillea, Spider Flower, Silky-oak and Toothbrush.
GBRf's Prostrate Cancer UK liveried 66769 'League Managers Association' backs the 6F01 07:51 Doncaster Down Decoy GBRf to Wellingborough UP TC GBRf into its destination.
And to God prostrates whoever is within the heavens and the earth, willingly or by compulsion, and their shadows [as well] in the mornings and the afternoons.
DSC_2350 - 368 - N1 OXF - Volvo B5LH/Wright Eclipse Gemini 2 - Oxford Bus Company (OPCSG - 'Problem With You Waterworks? Get Checked!') - Oxford, St Aldates 11/01/19
Juste posé là,
prostré,
replié sur lui même,
comme un oeuf...
Il ne sentait ni le vent,
n'entendait ni le ressac,
ne voyait ni la nuit,
ni les étoiles...
Bercé par le va-et-vient de la marée intérieure,
éternellement perdu,
noyé,
sous les vagues tièdes,
il restera posé là,
jusqu'à ce qu'une lame plus forte,
l'emporte,
jusqu'à une autre plage,
intérieure,
hors du temps,
hors d'atteinte...
prostré,
sur lui même...
Comme un oeuf...
Un oeuf humain.
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Just sitting there,
prostrated
folded on himself,
as an egg ...
He felt neither wind
nor heard the backwash,
saw nor night,
or the stars ...
Rocked by the comings and goings of the tide inland
forever lost
drowned
under the warm waves,
He will put there,
until blade is sharp,
prevails
to another beach
Inside
out of time,
unattainable ...
prostrate
on himself ...
As an egg ...
A human egg.
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I have only seen the shield sundew (Drosera peltata) in one spot in Manly Dam. This is an upright version of the more common prostrate sundew, and is seen here backlit by the winter sun.
Prostrate perennial with hairy stems rooting at nodes. Flowers white or pink with a yellowish throat appear December to March.
Growing in large matted clumps on the steep slope of a hanging swamp regenerating after fire, and spreading into the more gently sloping reedy swamp area below. Upper Blue Mountains.
Described by Fairley & Moore as 'rare' in the Sydney region.
Habit: flic.kr/p/2kT1HNZ
Prostrate decumbent shrub to 18 cm high, c. 10 stamens on one side of two villous carpels, staminodes on both sides of carpels. Flowers yellow.
most likely Hibbertia vestita
Prostrate shrub to 30 cm
Common Name: Hairy Guinea Flower, Little Rocker,
North Coast Regional Botanic Garden, Coffs Harbour
NSW Australia
With my body, speech, and mind, humbly I prostrate.
I make offerings both set out and imagined.
I declare every unwholesome action I have ever committed.
I rejoice in the virtues of all beings.
Please stay until samsara ends,
And please turn the Wheel of Dharma for us.
I dedicate all these virtues to the great Enlightenment
The currently ThO & FO operated service conveying imported European spent ballast from the quayside at Lowestoft to the recycling centre at Whitemoor Yard was worked by the Prostrate Cancer promotional class 66 on Friday and is seen curving off the Whitemoor Yard connection with the outbound empties. I had shot this at Whitemoor Junction and then made a very fast walk back to the station in an attempt to secure a second shot as it had to follow a slightly late GA Peterborough - Ipswich service. I still had to run over the footbridge and down the platform in order to get this second bite though. Steve in the shadows had taken the easier option by just opting for this one!
My best guess on this cute red-flowered pea is Prostrate Flame Pea (Chorizema rhombeum), also called Scarlet Flame Pea. Mount Burnett Walk Trail in Mount Frankland South National Park, Western Australia.
The tiny 3mm flies visit our prostrate Seaside daisies in the garden. The centre of the flowers is 5mm.
They are very pretty with their Black bodies, orange eyes and large white wings.
We also see different species of these on plants in the bushland.
Photo: Jean
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***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on April 2nd 2015
CREATIVE RF gty.im/546283235 MOMENT OPEN COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 420th to be selected by Getty Images for inclusion in their Moment collection, and I am verfy grateful to them for this amazing opportunity.
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THE OUTSIDER (PART FIVE)
WHEN THE BULLET HITS THE BONE
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I guess you're feelin' mighty confused right now. In your search for answers, you hope to rationalise my actions and try to understand my motivation for the life I have led. But you simply cannot. You want me to spout lies and spurious tales of childhood neglect and abuse which cast a dark shadow on a young boy's mind and led him into temptation and evil thoughts and deeds. You are horrified by the very thought of my callous disregard for the lives of those I have slaughtered, snuffed out like candles in the dead of night, caring little for the legacy of sorrow taht I leave behind in my wake. And in return, I expect of you some form of sympathy, understanding for the pain I now feel and the actions I take. And yet, you are strangely intrigued by my story. You hate me for what I am, what have done, for the stories that I now relay to you, but you are drawn deeper into the realms of my vendetta. Don't beat yourself up about it none. You're as human as the townsfolk, men, women and chillen who feel the desire to run out into the dusty streets and eye over the bodies of those I've just killed, still shakin' and tremblin' as the sound of the bullets bounce off the wooden planks of the towns buildings, lying prostrate and still warm as nerves twitch and eyes fade to a misty white, and I make my exit.
And if you're searching for remorse, you won't find it here. Absolution is sought by those who place some semblance of belief and trust in the words of the good book and the false idols they prey to. My Elizabeth had a belief of sorts, a soul so honest and true that it could make me weep, and she saw good in people and situations that I could never see. For all the good it did her. Putting faith into the wooden cross beside our bed, paying homage through the metal pendent around her pretty neck was enough to raise my dislike, though the tears which cascaded down her soft pink cheeks whenever the matter arose was enough to keep me from venturing there too frequently. And me? I prey at no man's feet, destiny and fate my only companions, survival my only prayer. I tie Wa Ka Liva's reigns loosely to the post outside of the barber shot, windows shuttered with wood and fearful eyes peeking through the gaps in the slats as I walk slowly by. It ain't no day for have a go hero's nor those who talk a better fight than have in'em, today the town will swell with the barbarity of professional killers waiting in the shadows to stake a claim in history and reap the fat rewards for their part in my downfall. By now, legend precedes me and the lure of fame and fortune has anyone with a kill to their name lining up to take a shot at me.
Peripheral vision honed and sharp, I see movement from two shadowy figures up ahead as my eyes try to adjust to the blinding light from the merciless sun which dances across my face like sidewinder snakes in the desert sand. No beer induced stumbling from fools, no jovial banter, these hoodlums mean to mess me up for Steed and Hurst to finish off. What plans are afoot, what cunning strategies have the sons of bitches thought up for my demise? I'm walking with a purpose, striding with arrogance as the young bucks approach me, the first one twenty two maybe, thick set, single holster and shiny steel that glints in the light, a head full'a notions but lacking the balls to see them through. The second man is thicker set, head and neck formed as one, flexing muscles and fingers poised for action, two hundred and twenty pounds of solid untamed aggression and a world full'a ambition all rolled into a walking nightmare. A fighter's nose, previously broken, and oversized ears hanging like Canyon bat wings from the rim of his hat. He's hungry for my blood and will fall this day through the impetuous nature of his unskilled hands.
I walk on by, straight past them. I'm guessing that they are considerin' me taller than expected and meaner than hoped as the reality of fear and doubt meets head on with the bravado of bar room brag and expectation. I have a notion to kill'em right there and then, but a mind to tease and taunt their plans. Ya know what, Let's play out this scene to it's natural conclusion. I'm in the mood for some fun as testosterone covets the air, and I have the scent of the kill, a wanton blood-lust that must be sated. I stop and turn back towards the pair. The stocky guy is arched up against a shuttered shop front, as I move back and eye the first man up. My ears prick up at the sound of the blade as it exits the first man's hand, aimed true and dead straight, right at my chest. Ya know, I've gotta hand it to these guy's, they are playin' for keeps, a little amateurish perhaps, but entertaining. With a casual movement, I sidestep the whirling blade which finds a home embedded deep into the door of the saloon . The stocky man snarls, revealing a missing couple of teeth and rot that has spread like a cancer through those that steadfastly refuse to flee. At this point I'm guessing that heart rates are increasing, blood pressure rising if the beads of perspiration cascading down the shorter guy's face are anything to go by. My pulse, by contrast, slows and evens, as then world through my eyes slips into black and white, focus concentrated, every nerve and fibre of my body rising to the job in hand.
The contemplation of the kill is let down by the brevity of the act itself. Ears detecting the footsteps of two more men fast approaching from behind, my brain calculates the options, the scenario playing out as, spinning on my heels, the steel grey form glistens as a lightening quick reflex pulls a barrel up and round. Left hand up under right arm, right thumb cocking the first hammer as the bullet chambers and fires in a single action. Pupils dilate and shock registers on Hurst's dark and soulless eyes, too slow to comprehend my actions whilst facing the canon fodder sent to distract me. It was a mighty fine plan my friend, for one with so few brain cells as you, but you failed to take into account the anger that's driving me, the adrenalin that's coursing through these veins, and the will I harbour to survive this onslaught. Hurst falls heavily, life snuffed out before muscles have become acquainted with the dusty floor. Disbelief registered suitably in a pained expression as hot metal crushes splintered and fragmenting bone, and a pitiful yelp exits his normally vocal mouth. The poor fella never even saw it coming. Single slug, between the eyes, dead centre. Way to go fella. Not bad for an ex-gun slinger who's a little outta practice and rusty around the edges.
Steed is baring down on me, angrier than a raging bull, and twice as ugly. If this lump of blind rage gets a hold of me, I'm dead meat for sure, as my left hand swings a degree or two and a second bullet loosens itself from the barrel, a twisting, spinning mass of fatal beauty destined for Steeds skull. I could almost feel sorry for him, though unsurprisingly, on this occasion I do not. The second round powers through Steeds left eye socket, like a hammer through a peach, exiting into the wall behind and reverberating in the afternoon sun, as a mosaic of blood spatters the ground better than any painting I've ever seen before. His body is still at full pelt when the force of the impact thrusts him into the air, like running into a wall of steel, limbs flailing, as he hits the ground with a resounding thud. Two down, two to go, as I spin around, holsterin my right side gun, hand rapidly acquainted with the coolness of my blade, which is despatched quicker than the stocky guy can react, embedding itself deep into his throat as he cups the hilt with both hands, choking as the blood gushes from the fatal wound and he drops onto his knees scratchin' at the air as his last breaths pass him by. Left hand still full'a steel, my index finger kisses the trigger which has been machined and polished to my exacting standards, as light as a feather, as eager as a rampant buck. A shot rings out as I fell the remaining fool, who shakes like a tree in the winds and pisses his pants as he pleads momentarily, bleeding and crawling like a stuck pig. Sorry fella, I ain't the forgiving type. Raised barrel, cocked hammer, conscience clear, I finish him with a round to the brain. Two would have been fun, but I can't afford the luxury of wasted ammo today.
Blood and tissue matter from Steeds worthless carcass have spattered across the leather of my boots, sizzling under the hot sun. Now that seriously crosses a line! Wait a moment, was that a twitch, a groan from Steed? Still alive, or merely the death rattle as his final breath exits that offensive flesh? Never one to miss an opportunity for payback, figuring its better safe than sorry, I empty two more shells into him, his body rising and falling under the impact with a finality that signals my job here is done. Gasps from behind shuttered windows resound as the dust settles and silence falls like a veil of mist across a naked valley. I empty his pistol and gratefully take charge of his shells which will serve me well. A man's gotta take provisions wherever he can in these lands. I walk back to my horse and saddle up. The warmth of my guns pulsate through to my flesh and the delicious and intoxicating smell of cordite fills my nostrils as I mount up and slowly leave the town. I was born to this life and I pity those about to feel my wrath.
From the corner of my eye I see a figure emerging from one of the doorways, and instinctively swivel, hand and pistol joined in perfect union in the blink of an eye with the barrel aimed straight for the kill, hammer cocked, finger itching to pull down another sorry son of a bitch who fancies takin' a pot shot at me and my quest. I stop in my tracks as my eyes fall upon the town sheriff. Fatter than a cow at slaughter, fear etched across his flushed pink skin and grey moustache that was so carefully waxed this very morning, he removes his hat, placing it across his chest, nodding in my direction in a form of submissive gesture that tells me he's seen it all and will be raising no objections to my departure from his town soon as. I guess he'd hoped for a different outcome to the one that has played out, but beggars can't be choosers and I ain't met a man yet who wouldn't sell his soul to the devil himself for the chance to continue living and breathing.
A bullet in the back is the one that every gun slinger fears, after all, where's the honour in that tale when told around a camp fire full of eager minds and hungry hearts. There are a few legends of the Wild West that didn'y quite end as the story tellers write in their fancy papers and books. Today won't be my last on this beautiful land, though it's coming soon enough. And will my legend be told to future generations who view me with a mixture of respect and ridicule? Will I be hailed a great hero or reviled as a worthless piece of shit? Do you really expect me to give a damn?
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Written January 3rd 2010/Rewritten April 5th 2011
Photograph taken in an open field near Sparwood, on the borders of Alberta and BC, Canada on April 16th 2010.
Nikon D90 10mm 1/320s f/10.0 iso200
Tamron 10-24mm f/3.5-4.5 Di II. UV filter. MetaGPS geotag.
Latitude: 49 43\'36.276"N
Longitude: 113 24\'30.24"W
Location: Masjid as-salam, Taman Puchong Perdana,Selangor, Malaysia.
بِسمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحمٰنِ الرَّحيمِ
يٰأَيُّهَا الَّذينَ ءامَنُوا اركَعوا وَاسجُدوا وَاعبُدوا رَبَّكُم وَافعَلُوا الخَيرَ لَعَلَّكُم تُفلِحونَ ۩
In the Name of Allâh, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful.
"O you who have believed! Bow down, and prostrate yourselves, and worship your Lord and do good that you may be successful." Surah [22] al-hajj, ayat [77]
بِسمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحمٰنِ الرَّحيمِ
خُذِ العَفوَ وَأمُر بِالعُرفِ وَأَعرِض عَنِ الجٰهِلينَ
In the Name of Allâh, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful.
"Show forgiveness, enjoin what is good, and turn away from the foolish (i.e. don't punish them)." Surah [7] al-araaf, ayat [199]
بِسمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحمٰنِ الرَّحيمِ
وَمِنَ النّاسِ مَن يَعبُدُ اللَّهَ عَلىٰ حَرفٍ ۖ فَإِن أَصابَهُ خَيرٌ اطمَأَنَّ بِهِ ۖ وَإِن أَصابَتهُ فِتنَةٌ انقَلَبَ عَلىٰ وَجهِهِ خَسِرَ الدُّنيا وَالءاخِرَةَ ۚ ذٰلِكَ هُوَ الخُسرانُ المُبينُ
In the Name of Allâh, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful.
"And among mankind is he who worships Allâh as it were, upon the edge (i.e. in doubt); if good befalls him, he is content therewith; but if a trial befalls him, he turns back on his face (i.e. reverts back to disbelief after embracing Islâm). He loses both this world and the Hereafter. That is the evident loss." Surah [22], al-hajj, ayat [11]
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সম্পূর্ণভাবে নিষিদ্ধ এবং কপিরাইট আইনে দণ্ডনীয় অপরাধ।
© All Rights Reserved
Please seek my consent to publish it anywhere.
:::::::::::::: [RAZU] ::::::::::::::
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The tiny 3mm flies visit our prostrate Seaside daisies in the garden.
They are very pretty with their Black bodies, orange eyes and large white wings.
We also see different species of these on plants in the bushland.
Photo: Fred
Grevillea nudiflora is shrub which is endemic to an area on the south coast of Western Australia. It is variable in habit, ranging from prostrate to up to 2 metres in height, with beautiful trailing branches and bright red flowers with bright yellow on the curve of the flower.
After a few days of feeling completely unable to take a photograph, something changed, today. For those of you who want a little bit or context, the man on the floor is an Eastern European gypsy, begging on the streets. Almost in surrender, he lies for hours, still, and prostrated on the floor, holding an empty cup, in the hope that passers by will donate money. The setting is in the heart of London's financial centre, and it's lunchtime. You can clearly see the street flood with wealthy businessmen and office workers, dressed immaculately, leaving the workplace for lunch break. The stark contrast between the two fascinated me, and so I found my frame, and just patiently waited for the right subjects to fill it, prior to firing the shutter release.
Leica M6, Carl Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2.8 ZM, Ilford HP5+, Rodinal, Plustek OpticFilm 8100.
When defenses against the most immediate forms of mental disturbance have been raised, the assimilation of the principles of "right conduct" arouses in the mind an "intimate, unalloyed joy" joined with the stability and sureness of one who feels himself in a state of "justice." For which we are given the simile of a lawfully crowned king who knows that his enemies are routed and that there is no threat of any kind to his sovereignty. We have also acquired the strengthened "neutrality" or "sidereality" of the mind that, thanks to the fourfold contemplation, has further freed itself and is now at the center of all its experience, both internal and external. At this point we undertake the really cathartic action whose aim is to neutralize, by degrees, any possibility of "combustion" and of self-abandonment to the multiple variety of "contacts."
Contacts wound; contacts consume by exciting the fire that burns the body and the mind, which nourishes the samsaric stem and prostrates the higher principle. "The fool, struck by force, perishes; the wise man, when struck, does not tremble," he remains intact, remains unshakable, remains elusive; we must become like the wise man. It is a question, then, of dealing a blow at the transcendental "desire" that lurks in the visual and other senses, in the khandha (the groups of the personality), in the elements, and which is corruption, disease, suppuration. All this must naturally take place, not on the psychological or moral plane, but on the existential and metaphysical one. The beginning of the process of alteration lies in the senses, which are likened to so many "wounds." (…) In order to "bandage the wounds" and neutralize the infection provoked by contacts, we must ensure that "the internal sight, the internal smelling, the internal hearing, the internal tasting, the internal touching, the internal thinking are not distracted," that is to say, that we are present in the sixfold seat of the senses in such a way that we can immediately prevent any self-relaxation, self-attachment, self-intoxication, any luring of ourselves by enjoyment. There will be, then, no further building of combinations, at first in the fundamental stem of the will, and then in the five stems of the personality." This is the essence of the new work of catharsis.
This work is based on what is known as the "watch over the doors of the senses," for which the canonical formula is: "Upon perceiving a form with the eye, the ascetic conceives no inclination, no interest. Since craving and aversion and damaging and harmful thoughts soon overcome the man who lives with the eye unguarded, he remains vigilant, he guards the eye, he remains vigilant over the eye." Upon hearing a sound with the ear, upon smelling an odor with the nose, upon tasting a flavor with the tongue, upon touching a contact with the body, upon representing to himself a mental state with the mind, he conceives no inclination, he conceives no interest. Since craving and aversion and damaging and harmful thoughts soon overcome the man who lives with his mind unguarded, he remains vigilant, he guards the mind, he remains vigilant over the mind." To fail in this vigilance at some point is to suffer the fate of the tortoise: when the tortoise unthinkingly put out one of its limbs a jackal seized it by that limb and carried it off to its ruin.
In this matter then, we have to come to grips with the samsaric entity with which we are associated and that constitutes our double, composed of thirst. A continually tightening circle closes round it. It is effectively likened to an enemy who, knowing that he cannot openly defeat his adversary, gets himself employed by him as a servant and gains his confidence so that he may then defeat him by treachery: this is the part that the illusory "I," created by identification, plays in us until the time of initiation into the doctrine of the Ariya.
That the discipline of the watch over the senses or binding the wounds leads to a higher liberation is shown by the simile of the man who has at a crossroads a thoroughbred team and can guide them wherever he pleases. The man who does not know or who forgets this practice is dominated by forms, sounds, smells, tastes, contacts, and thoughts, instead of being their master.
In another way this discipline can also he summed up by the word silentium: "to gird oneself with silence," silence in the technical and initiatory sense. Impressions are arrested at the periphery, at the limit of the senses. Between them and the "I" there is now a distance, a zone of "silence." We thus become endowed with that form of silence that consists of not pronouncing either the exterior word or the interior word, and this in turn implies not hearing, not seeing, not imagining. This theme has also been expressed in a popular form. It is, in fact, the deeper, hidden significance of the well-known statuette of the three sacred monkeys, one with the ears closed, one with the mouth closed, and one with the eyes closed: speak not, hear not, see not. And we may here also recall the curious hermetical formula: "Who has ears, let him open them [in the sense of a close watch on every impression], who has a mouth, let him keep it shut [in the sense of the aforesaid silence, of calm, intangible 'neutrality']."
It is thus that the conditions for further liberation and then for awakening the extrasamsāric principle are consolidated.
As the natural counterpart of the watch on the doors of the senses, a world of disintoxication is carried out within the zone that is now isolated, in order to eliminate or reduce those internal smoldering embers of agitation and self-identification that may be made to burst into life by external contacts. This is what is known as the removal of the five nīvarana, a term that means a "dross," a "hindrance," or an "impediment." The five nīvarana are: desire (kāmacchanda); hate or anger (vyāpāda); slothful idleness (thīna-middha); pride and impatience (uddhacca- kukkucca); doubtful uncertainty (vicikicchā).
The action of these five hindrances is clearly indicated by the following similes: it is like trying to look at one's reflection in water wherein all kinds of colors are mixed (desire), or in boiling water (hate and anger), or in water full of mud and moss (slothful idleness), or in water agitated by the wind (pride and impatience), or finally, in dark and murky water (doubt). Removal is effected by direct action of the mind on the mind, together with accurate and calm self-examination. The discipline is described in the texts in the following manner.
The ascetic finds a solitary place and begins to meditate. A well-known yoga position is counseled: sit with legs crossed and body straight upright. This traditional Indo-Aryan position is, however, only suitable if one is so accustomed to it that it is quite natural and requires no special effort and does not produce fatigue. In general, the position recommended for this, as for other contemplations, must be one of equilibrium, which does not have to be changed; it must have a kind of symbolical meaning of self-awareness and it must not demand efforts that would distract the mind.
It is fundamentally a more advanced development of the states already induced by sīla or "right conduct." The aim here is obviously to bring us to a deeper zone by means of the strengthened power of internal vision that we have gained through the preceding disciplines. It is a matter of attacking, to some degree, the sankhara, that is to say, the innate and congenital tendencies that come, in part, from the extra-individual heredity that we have assumed.
Here, too, the purity achieved at certain moments comes to be developed until it has almost attained a state of permanency. This is how we must understand what is known as the "threefold watch": "by day, walking and sitting, turn the mind away from disturbing things; in the first watch of the night, walking and sitting, turn the mind away from disturbing things; in the middle watch of the night, lie down on the right side, like the lion, one foot on the other, bringing to mind the hour of waking; in the last watch of the night, after arising, walking or sitting, turn the mind away from disturbing things."
This is a kind of continuous examination of consciousness. The yama, the watches of the night that are recognized in this discipline consist, according to the Buddhist tradition, of four hours each; the first runs from six until ten in the evening, the second from ten until two in the morning, the third from two to six in the morning. Thus, strictly speaking, the period of true sleep or of the state that in the common man would correspond to sleep is restricted to four hours only, from ten in the evening until two in the morning. In this we must not see an "ascetic" discipline in the Western sense of mortification: on the contrary, it is natural that in advancing along the road of illumination the need for sleep is considerably reduced, and this reduction produces no ill effect. Here, too, a unilateral "authoritarian" intervention would only serve to create states of fatigue and inattention unfavorable for spiritual life by day.
With attentive care of the "wounds" and with action taken against the hindrances or impediments, the zone of "silence" is strengthened, and a gradual interior increase of the extrasamsāric quality takes place therein; this increase should he aided by illuminated effort and it is related to the aforesaid "seven awakenings". These "awakenings" are the positive counterpart of the cathartic or prophylactic action, that is to say, they are a "defence against intoxication produced by action." The canonical formula is: "[The ascetic] rightly causes the awakening of mindfulness derived from detachment, derived from dispassion, derived from cessation [of the flux], ending in renunciation, he causes the awakening of investigation -of inflexible energy- of enthusiasm -of calm- of concentration -of equanimity, of these awakenings derived from detachment, derived from dispassion, derived from cessation, ending in renunciation."
Various interpretations of the place of these awakenings in the whole development are, nevertheless, possible. Their sense as a whole, indeed, reflects that of the four jhānas, of the contemplation that is to be performed in complete detachment from external experience. Here, however, we may understand them on a more relative plane, as a kind of transfiguration and liberation of faculties that are already pervaded by the element of bodhi, whence the expression bojjhanga. It must be realized that we are not dealing with a simple schematic enu¬meration, but rather with a series in which the meditation whereby they are appre¬hended should pursue an intimate causal linking of the single terms so that we are naturally led on from one to the next, and so that in the one we see the integration and resolution of its predecessors. Thus, we must first achieve nondistracted medita¬tion: then we must awaken the state of "mindfulness," fix it in the mind, develop it, master it, and see how this state leads to the second awakening and passes into "investigation," which may find support in some element of the doctrine; this inves¬tigation, when developed, fixed, extended, and mastered must lead on to the awak¬ening of "inflexible energy," whose perfect conquest should herald a state of spe¬cial, purified "enthusiasm," of purified joy. By further developing the meditation, we should realize that this enthusiasm, this joy, awakened and perfectly developed in a body that is becoming calm, in a mind that is becoming calm, will become resolved and liberated in the next awakening, which is that of "calm." When calm has been developed, extended, fixed, and mastered, "concentration" awakens; this, in its turn, when completely developed, becomes established and shines forth in the "equanimity" that is the seventh awakening.
These form a series of landmarks in meditation that is concerned with realization and they are connected by an inherent continuity. Through these, one is led in another way to the confirmation of what was already becoming established in the satipatthāna, the fourfold contemplation of detachment, that is to say, one is led to that impassibility that is qualified as "pure, clear, ductile, flexible, resplendent," but which has nothing to do-it should be noted-with the indifference of a blunt mind, with the indifference "of a fool, of an ignorant man, of an inexpert common man." For our part, we think it opportune to add that the state in question must on no account be confused with apathy, and that it develops together with a feeling of purified intellectualized and heroic joy, although this may at first seem difficult to understand. The Bhagavadgītā says: "When the mind, lamed by ascesis, becomes quiet; when [the ascetic], seeing the self in the self, rejoices in himself, knows that boundless joy which, transcending the senses, can only be ap¬prehended by the intellect and, when fixed in it, does not stir from the truth ... he knows that this detachment from union with pain is called yoga." At the same time, Buddhism speaks of a pleasure that is "like dung" when compared to that based on detachment, calm, and illumination (thus two kinds of joy are considered and contrasted. the one bound to life in the world, to mania, to enjoyment, the other to ascesis or to ultramundane states of detachment and of freedom from mania; and it is said that the second is the higher joy. "Extinction is the greatest joy.")
Furthermore, such sequences as these are frequent: "In the ascetic joy arises; this joy makes him blissful; being blissful, his body becomes calm: with the body calmed, serenity arises; in this serenity the mind comes to rest, becomes concentrated"; this is a preparation for the four jhāna. This is another sequence that has the character of a connected series, developing in an upward sense, not unlike that which, through the twelve nidana, led us downward to samsāric existence. The point of departure of this new series is, in fact, the state of suffering, of agitation, of contingency, which corresponds to the last nidāna of the descending path. Beyond it, there is the state of confidence; this leads to purified joy; then follows serenity, which gives place to bliss, passing on to equanimity - the term used here literally means also to vanish, to cease being in a place: it is a question of detached equilibrium. In this text the supreme realization has behind it a linked series in which special states of liberated joy play a particular part: a kind of joy that Plato contrasted with all mixed and conditioned forms of joy or of pleasure.
Let us quote another text that represents the state at which we may reckon to have arrived at this point of our exposition: „Concentration which knows neither increase nor decrease, which is not based on wearisome subjugation, which, because of its detached nature is constant, because of its constancy is full of bliss, because of its bliss cannot be destroyed — such concentration has suprene wisdom as its result.”
This should destroy the idea that the path of awakening is arid and desolate, that it kills all joy, that it offers only renunciation and destruction. That everyone whose furthest horizon is still within the effective, samsarically conditioned world should have this idea is quite natural but is of very little account.
A text reminds us that only an Awakened One can comprehend the Awakened One. An expressive simile demonstrates this: two companions leave a city together and reach a rock that one of them climbs. He says to the other: "I see from up here a wonderful view of gardens, woods, fields, and lakes," but the other retorts: "It is impossible, it is inadmissible, friend, that from up there you can see all that." Then the companion standing on the rock comes down, takes the other by the arm, makes him climb up on the rock and. after he has recovered his breath, asks him: "What do you then see, friend, standing on the rock?" The other replies: "I see a wonderful view of gardens, woods, fields, and lakes." "And your previous opinion?" "While I was obstructed by this great rock, I could not see what is now visible." It concludes: it is impossible that what is knowable, discernible, capable of achievement, capable of realization through detachment can be known, discerned, achieved, realized by one who lives among desires and who is consumed by desires." Quite apart from the higher "sidereal" principle. the Buddhist also knows the kind of joy that is contentedness, rejoicing, jubilation, enthusiasm, exultation, transport of the spirit and that, among others, is considered as "a factor of the great awakening”.
[Countering those who believe that the Buddhist road is one of desolation and aridity, Louis de La Vallée-Poussin most opportunely writes: “We must, rather, recognise that India is difficult when it comes to being and bliss; that as she puts being beyond existence, so she puts bliss beyond sensation.”]
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Julius Evola: The Doctrine of Awakening - Part II., Chapter 4. - Sidereal Awareness: The Wounds Close (excerpt)
DSC_3159 - 368 - N1 OXF - Volvo B5LH/Wright Eclipse Gemini 2 - Oxford Bus Company (OPCSG - 'Problem With You Waterworks? Get Checked!') - Oxford, High Street 11/01/19
"O Mary Immaculate, gracious Queen of Heaven and of Earth, behold us prostrate before thy exalted throne. Full of confidence in thy goodness and in thy boundless power, we beseech thee to turn a pitying glance upon Palestine, which, more than any other country, belongs to thee, since thou hast graced it with thy birth, thy virtues and thy sorrows, and from there hast given the Redeemer to the world.
Remember that there especially thou wast constituted our tender Mother, the dispenser of graces. Watch, therefore, with special protection over thy native country, dispel from it the shades of error, for it was there that the Son of Eternal Justice shone. Bring about the speedy fulfillment of the promise, which issued from the lips of thy Divine Son, that there should be one fold and one Shepherd.
Obtain for us all that we may serve the Lord in sanctity and justice during all the days of our life, so that, by the merits of Jesus and with thy motherly aid, we may pass at last from this earthly Jerusalem to the splendors of the heavenly one. Amen."
This beautiful image of Our Lady of Palestine is in the Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Land, which is situated in north east Washington DC.
Prostrate Cancer UK,66769"Paul Taylor-Our Inspiration" passes Worting Junction on 14/April/25 working 6Y42 14.13 Hoo Junction to Eastleigh engineers,with Gbs 69014 "EMD Longport" and Colas 66849"Wylam Dilly" DIT
Well what a surprise for me yesterday lunchtime after the mornings heavy rain had just about eased i never expected to see this brown hare in the field opposite my house.
Initially i thought the Red-legged Partridge were on the move again, then i thought it was just a rabbit which are becoming relatively uncommon thanks to the Red Kites (some say?).
I had my 105mm macro on my camera and took a distant shot and realized that it was a hare sat some 50 to 60 mts away from me. I quickly put on my zoom lens and took some more images.
Then i decided to take a chance that it may stay there and ducked down as took an image from my drive (the last in this series) and went on to the bridleway that runs below this field. Keeping low down i peered up and thought it may have gone , but no it was prostrate and looking straight at me. Then it took off and i took a couple of it sprinting away but fortunately it stopped, stood up and then sat down and these images made my day.
I do see the hares (rarely!) but this is the first time i have had the chance to see one and photograph it too.
By shear luck no dogs walkers around to spook it before i reached my vantage point.
A low low growing cactus, often prostrate and creeping , rooting on under-edges of growth. It forms masses usually 1 meter in diameter or less.
Spines: 2-12, usually 5-8, needle-like, stout, rather variable in color,usually yellowish to brownish, erect, unequal, spreading, on most areoles, the longest ones to 7 cm long.
Flowers: Mostly yellow, occasionally orange or red, 3-5.5 cm long; pericarpels with areoles nearly to bases, bristly above. Sepals brown; filaments yellow; style white; stigma-lobes green.
It was narrated from Al 'Abbas bin 'Abdul-Muttalib that: He heard the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) say: "When a person prostrates, seven parts of his body prostrate: his face, his two palms, his two knees and his two feet." (Sa'hih, Sunan an-Nasa'i, 1094)
Photographed is Habib bhai, the security guard commander, Masjid curator and Muezzin at the Central Masjid of Social Islami Bank Limited Head Office. This is him a year + 3 days ago.
City Center, Dhaka
My best guess on this cute red-flowered pea is Prostrate Flame Pea (Chorizema rhombeum), also called Scarlet Flame Pea. Mount Burnett Walk Trail in Mount Frankland South National Park, Western Australia.
My daughter's Father in Law lost his battle with Prostrate Cancer yesterday and my grandchildren lost their beloved Papa. We had planned to take them to Featherdale Animal Park so they could run around and spend time with the animals today as it is the last day of the school holidays and whilst we considered not going, we decided at the last moment to go along with our original plans.
Summer Honeypot
The prostrate Banksia was flowering well after having been burnt in 2018. The plants have lignotuber roots that remain in the ground after a fire, allowing the the plant to regrow quickly.
This is a threatened plant.
Photo: Fred
Sea Purslane is a fleshy prostrate evergreen perennial forming a mat of smooth, trailing, reddish-green stems that branch regularly. They are clothed with fleshy, elliptic-ovate, succulent leaves which turn red or yellow with age or when exposed to full sun.
L'Eliantemo alpino appartiene alla famiglia delle Cistaceae ed è una pianta a fusto prostrato e pluriramificato. Ha foglie lanceolate e fiori di 2 cm di diametro che formano dei cuscini floreali di colore giallo vivo. Predilige terreni sassosi o rocciosi calcarei fino ad una quota di circa 2500 metri.
The alpine Eliantemo belongs to the family of Cistaceae and is a plant stem prostrate and much branched. It has lance-shaped leaves and flowers 2 cm in diameter, which form the cushions of bright yellow flowers. It prefers stony or rocky limestone up to a maximum altitude of 2500 meters.
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