A Quote by Ram Dass
We're sitting under the tree of our thinking minds, wondering why we're not getting any sunshine!
Related Quotes
Our conscious minds are rapidly overwhelmed with the few tasks that they attempt to manage. That's why our unconscious minds have evolved to handle so much of our thinking.
Tree sitting is a last resort. When you see someone sitting in a tree trying to protect it, you know that every level of our society has failed.
The truth of the matter is one knows what it's like being the president. Not I, nor any president to come hence. This is because life, thankfully, offers deeper quandaries. While in office, I would often wake up in a daze, wondering how I could wiggle my toes without even thinking it so, or why hair grows only on certain places and not our entire bodies, or why we aren't completely bald, or why we must close our eyes and sleep every night, or any of the millions of particulars of daily existence, let alone that I was elected the leader of an entire nation.
If I just got up in the morning and had no place to go and was retired or something, I would be sitting there and be thinking, "Gee, what is the purpose of life? Why are we all finite? Why do we get old and die? Is there nothing out there? Why is it so tragic? Why do our loved ones perish? Why do we generate?" Who wants to think about that stuff?
Leaves are usually looked upon as the children of the tree. Yes, they are children of the tree, born from the tree, but they are also mothers of the tree. The leaves combine raw sap, water, and minerals, with sunshine and gas, and convert it into a variegated sap that can nourish the tree. In this way, the leaves become the mother of the tree. We are all children of society, but we are also mothers. We have to nourish society. If we are uprooted from society, we can not trasform it into a more liveable place for us and our children.
But it can also happen, if will and grace are joined, that as I contemplate the tree I am drawn into a relation, and the tree ceases to be an It. . . . Does the tree then have consciousness, similar to our own? I have no experience of that. But thinking that you have brought this off in your own case, must you again divide the indivisible? What I encounter is neither the soul of a tree nor a dryad, but the tree itself.
The thing is, we have to let go of all blame, all attacking, all judging, to free our inner selves to attract what we say we want. Until we do, we are hamsters in a cage chasing our own tails and wondering why we aren't getting the results we seek.
I think any man who says he has never had an awkward moment with a girl, is a liar or he's delusional because he's sitting there thinking he is doing really well and the girl is thinking "Who is this man and why is he talking to me?"
I don't want to be in a situation again where I am sitting on a set, wondering why I am there and why I am doing the film.
Sometimes I wonder: What are the children thinking? And sometimes I wonder why the hell I'm not buying a tree like the other neighbors. After all, there is no mention in Christianity of Christmas trees, and even if there were - is there any good reason why I shouldn't be buying some red stockings?
I think it's useful, as a famous person, to have as little separation between the perception of you and how you really are - because otherwise I'd be sitting here thinking I'm keeping secrets, and wondering when you're going to find out.
There is something in our minds like sunshine and the weather, which is not under our control. When I write, the best things come to me from I know not where.
I laughed at Willie Nelson, wondering why he spends all his life on that tour bus. And I look at myself, and I'm sitting in airplanes half the time.
Why do we spend years using up our bodies to nurture our minds with experience and find our minds turning then to our exhausted bodies for solace?
Tonight, the news debated the intelligence of a bear. And it got my wondering why humanity rewards itself for passing tests that we create. And that got me wondering why we care. I've studied enough wars to know that the intelligence of the target isn't on the mind of the person with the gun. Maybe we should stop talking about intelligence and start discussing our grades in compassion.
For me, the teen years were all about searching for a place for myself, wondering why I seemed so different than everyone else, wondering especially why no one could look past the surface and figure out who I really was underneath.
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