Archive for August, 2009

A Milestone for the Poetry Chaikhana

Ivan M. Granger August 31st, 2009

When I first started the Poetry Chaikhana a little over five years ago, I had humble expectations. I remember thinking to myself, If at least 30 to 40 people follow it regularly, that will be enough.

Well, as of today, we have 5,000 people on the poetry email list! Wow!

And that’s all without marketing, ads, or exchanged links. Everyone has found his or her own way to the site, through your word of mouth and serendipitous web searches. That’s 5,000 unexpected, unique pathways to the Poetry Chaikhana.

We’ve managed to build quite a community, with people coming together from all over the world to appreciate these elevating, non-dogmatic expressions of the spirit. In fact, the web site has had visitors from more than 200 countries! If you’re curious which countries have shown the most interest, take a look at Around the World.

Janabai - You leave your greatness behind you

Ivan M. Granger August 31st, 2009

You leave your greatness behind you
by Janabai

English version by Sarah Sellergren

Jani has had enough of samsara,
but how will I repay my debt?

You leave your greatness behind you
to grind and pound with me.

O Lord you become a woman
washing me and my soiled clothes,

proudly you carry the water
and gather dung with your own two hands.

O Lord, I want
a place at your feet,
says Jani, Namdev’s dasi.

— from Images of Women in Maharashtrian Literature and Religion, Edited by Anne Feldhaus


/ Photo by magnusfranklin /

Janabai starts off this poem by proclaiming that she “has had enough of samsara,” the world of suffering and illusion. But how can she purify herself of karma — “but how will I repay my debt?” She begins with a daunting image of God and karma, God as a sort of king who mercilessly collects karmic debts.

But then the vision shifts to something more intimate. God leaves his “greatness” behind and, like Janabai herself, takes on the humble role of a servant “to grind and pound” and wash. These are traditionally a woman’s duties so God has “become a woman,” a loving mother rather than a stern father.

But what is being washed here is Janabai herself and her “soiled clothes,” her awareness. She implies that God’s grinding and pounding is being done with her, but also upon her — the purifying work of karma finally being paid. In the divine process of spiritual purification, God takes on the humble role of washerwoman, content to “carry the water” of divine energy that purifies, and not above gathering the dung of the material world which is burned for purifying fires.

This is not a vision of God in might and majesty, not a God kept hidden in temples and obscure rituals, and not an aloof debt-collector. Janabai’s God is, like herself, a servant-woman, a God who works side-by-side with her in the daily chores, a God who serves even the lowest servant. Janabai identifies herself as Namdev’s dasi or servant, and she is made holy by worshipping a servant God. By recognizing the Divine as being similar to herself, she also recognizes that she, even in her humble state, is similar to the Divine.

Janabai

India (1298 - 1350?) Timeline
Yoga / Hindu : Vaishnava (Krishna/Rama)

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Information & Knowledge

Ivan M. Granger August 31st, 2009

Don’t mistake information for knowledge.

Information is important,
but knowledge is the stuff of life.

Bibi Hayati - Before there was a hint of civilization

Ivan M. Granger August 28th, 2009

Before there was a hint of civilization
by Bibi Hayati

English version by Aliki Barnstone

Before there was a hint of civilization
I carried a memory of your loose strand of hair,
Oblivious, I carried inside me your pointed tip of hair.

In its invisible realm,
Your face of sun yearned for epiphany,
Until each distinct thing was thrown into sight.

From the first instant time took a breath,
Your love lay in the soul,
A treasure in the secret chest in the heart.

Before the first seed shot up out of the rose bed of the possible,
The soul’s lark took wing high above your meadow,
Flying home to you.

I thank you one hundred times! In the altar
Of Hayati’s eyes, your face shines
Forever present and beautiful.

— from The Shambhala Anthology of Women’s Spiritual Poetry, Edited by Aliki Barnstone


/ Photo by ninjanell902 /

What is it that Bibi Hayati is telling us here?

Before there was a hint of civilization…

From the first instant time took a breath…

Before the first seed shot up…

These all take us back not to the beginning, but to a time before beginnings.

And it is there that she discovers divine awareness, of the soul’s love for the Beloved.

From the first instant time took a breath,
Your love lay in the soul,
A treasure in the secret chest in the heart.

Most seekers secretly fear that their yearning for the Divine is too anemic, and so they drive themselves into extreme practices and Herculean efforts of prayer and meditation. Bibi Hayati’s truth cuts through all that: When we dig into the core of awareness, we discover a love too immense to describe. That love is the “memory,” the connection to the Eternal.

And that love-memory is primordial. It is not something that is built through actions and effort. It is not dependent on one’s history. It exists “before there was a hint of civilization.” It is the soul’s very nature.

(Those of a universalist bent might see in this parallels with Buddhist teachings on original nature or one’s “original face.”)

We don’t have to train ourselves to that divine love, we simply uncover it within ourselves.

This then tells us the real purpose of spiritual practice: Not so much to develop qualities we lack, but to stop obstructing the soul’s true nature, to uncover it and let it take wing.

Ultimately, we don’t find God’s shining face where it was not before, we discover that blissful radiance is always and has always been “forever present and beautiful.”

Have a beautiful weekend!

Bibi Hayati

Iran/Per (19th Century) Timeline
Muslim / Sufi

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Everyone and everything

Ivan M. Granger August 28th, 2009

Love everyone and everything
with the last ounce of your being.
Love all until you are shattered
by love
and only love remains.

Lalla - Intense cold makes water ice

Ivan M. Granger August 26th, 2009

Intense cold makes water ice
by Lalla (Lal Ded)

English version by Coleman Barks

Intense cold makes water ice.
Then the hard ice turns to slush
and back to water, so there are three
forms of consciousness: the individual,
the world, and God, which in the sun
of True Awareness melt to one flowing:

Lalla is that.

In meditation, I entered the love furnace,
burned impurities away, and as the sun
of a new knowing rose, I realized
that the words “Lalla” and “God”
point to this peacefulness.

— from Naked Song, by Lalla / Translated by Coleman Barks


/ Photo by net_efekt /

I spent most of my growing up years in Los Angeles — endless city, and no winters. I remember the one time as a child when the temperature dropped down to 30 degrees, and I implored the weather gods for snow. But it was not to be. It was Southern California, after all. A little more bundled than usual, I still had to go to school.

So when I moved to Colorado as an adult, you can imagine my sense of wonder at the snow each winter. In fact, I lived in some places up in the mountains where the snow would build up until it literally covered part of the ground floor windows. One more reminder for me that, no matter how much we humans construct our own environments, we are still residents within the world of nature, and that natural world is immense, stunningly beautiful, and ignored at our own peril…

Intense cold makes water ice.
Then the hard ice turns to slush
and back to water…

Lalla is giving us a simple spiritual metaphor, but although the intellect can quickly comprehend what she is saying, it’s important not to rush past it. Sit with the metaphor for a bit, let the imagery and meaning ferment quietly in your mind.

Water becomes solid ice when it is cold enough. It becomes almost rock-like: impenetrable, graspable, tangible… an unavoidable ‘thing.’ With a little bit of warmth, it starts to melt and becomes a slushy mixture of states, in some ways still seemingly solid, yet a hand can pass through it. When it has fully yielded to the warmth, it is liquid again, fluid, ungraspable, less a ‘thing’ and more of a filling of space.

Even so, all are the same substance: water. There has been no essential change other than the form perceived by the witness; it is a continuum that only appears different.

…so there are three
forms of consciousness: the individual,
the world, and God, which in the sun
of True Awareness melt to one flowing

And Lalla is reminding us that the individual and God are the same, separate only in apparent form, but in essence it is all one continuum of consciousness. The individual, the world, and God, when seen clearly in the warming sunlight of True Awareness are seen to “melt to one flowing.”

Lalla is that.

Her insight: In that instant of true seeing, we cease to identify ourselves as the individual or ego, and instead recognize ourselves as “that” — the flowing that moves through the entire spectrum of existence.

I realized
that the words “Lalla” and “God”
point to this peacefulness.

Reread those last lines, but insert your own name for Lalla’s.

Have a beautiful day!

Lalla (Lal Ded), Lalla (Lal Ded) poetry, Yoga / Hindu poetry Lalla (Lal Ded)

India (14th Century) Timeline
Yoga / Hindu : Shaivite (Shiva)

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Fade Away

Ivan M. Granger August 26th, 2009

The goal of the ego is not perfection.

It’s ultimate goal is to fade away
in order to reveal the inherent perfection
already present.

Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi - Secret Language

Ivan M. Granger August 24th, 2009

Secret Language
by Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi

English version by Coleman Barks

Every part of you has a secret language
your hands and your feet
say what you’ve done
and every need brings in what’s needed
pain bears its cure like a child

— from Secret Language: Rumi A Celebration in Song (Music CD), by Ramananda


/ Photo by Per Ola Wiberg (Powi) /

I’m back. I want to start by thanking everyone who sent good wishes for my mother’s health.

The past couple of weeks have been among the most difficult of my life. Because of my mother’s brain cancer, she has been losing functionality and making erratic, potentially dangerous decisions, so we came to the difficult decision that we needed to check her into a nursing home. Having to face that choice was in itself wrenching since my mother has always been a very independent woman. Then I had to rush to establish power of attorney and take over her finances, track down all her bills, go through her paperwork, all while dealing with insurance and medical bureaucracy and, of course, visiting with my mother, comforting her, helping her to get settled in to her new environment. Then, in the midst of that, my uncle, a sweet, quiet man, died of a heart attack! The whole period felt like an intense meditation on aging, loss, and death — with way too much bureaucracy thrown in. (Some day America will get a sane healthcare system.)

But, through all of that, I was also blessed to have some profoundly moving conversations with my mother. Even amidst her surface mental confusion, she still speaks with an inner wisdom about what she is going through as she knowingly approaches her own death.

I may write more about this in the future, but it is all still a little too raw in my thoughts right now. And I still have paperwork to fill out. :-)

Here is what I posted on Facebook recently:

Went to help my dying mother:
insurance,
forms, frantic phone calls.
And sweet, meandering talks
on how to wrap up a life.

Back home, the last of summer’s roses.

I’ve been listening again to Ramananda’s CD “Secret Language: Rumi - A Celebration in Song.” Lines of Rumi poetry set to liquid grooves, with tabla, sometimes a breathy flute. When I first listened to the CD a few years ago, I didn’t at first “get” it. It was one of those CDs I had to listen to two or three times before I found myself saying, Wow, this is wonderful! Strangely, most of my favorite CDs are that way…

…every need brings in what’s needed
pain bears its cure like a child

Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi, Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi poetry, Muslim / Sufi poetry Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi

Afghanistan & Turkey (1207 - 1273) Timeline
Muslim / Sufi

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Movie - The Drummer

Ivan M. Granger August 24th, 2009

The son of a Hong Kong gangster has to hide out in the mountains of Taiwan. This bored troublemaker from the city joins a Zen drumming troupe and slowly discovers rhythm and stillness. I just watched the DVD — a wonderful movie. Highly recommended!

Two Week Hiatus

Ivan M. Granger August 7th, 2009

Today’s poem will be the last one I post for a couple of weeks. I will be taking this time off to spend with my ailing mother.

Lots of love to everyone !

Kabir - lift the veil

Ivan M. Granger August 7th, 2009

lift the veil
by Kabir

English version by Sushil Rao

lift the veil
that obscures
the heart

and there
you will find
what you are
looking for


/ Photo by D Sharon Pruitt /

A short poem today, but one that says plenty…

Kabir, Kabir poetry, Muslim / Sufi poetry Kabir

India (15th Century) Timeline
Muslim / Sufi
Yoga / Hindu

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Step into the unknown

Ivan M. Granger August 7th, 2009

Each day, each moment
is a step into the unknown.
How can you feel anything
but amazement?

Pima - The Creation of the Earth

Ivan M. Granger August 5th, 2009

The Creation of the Earth
by Pima (Anonymous)

English version by Frank Russell

Earth Magician shapes the world.
      Behold what he can do!
Round and smooth he molds it.
      Behold what he can do!
Earth Magician makes the mountains.
      Heed what he has to say!
He it is that makes the mesas.
      Heed what he has to say.
Earth Magician shapes the world;
      Earth Magician makes its mountains;
Makes all larger, larger, larger.
      Into the earth the Magician glances,
Into its mountains he may see.

— from The Sky Clears: Poetry of the American Indians, Edited by A. Grove Day


/ Photo by LifeHouseDesign /

My college years in the late 1980s were a time of searching and confusion for me. I attended three different universities in three years, with as many majors, before I dropped out of school and bumped through jobs and life until somehow I stumbled my way into adulthood.

I mention this because one of the schools I attended briefly was the University of Arizona. And while there I first became aware of the Pima people of Arizona…

Something about this shamanic chant is really striking to me.

Earth Magician shapes the world.
Behold what he can do!

“Earth Magician” sounds so tangible, like the name of a person. Yet this “person” is the shaper of the world, the maker of mountains and mesas. The formation of the world, it is an act of magic! It is an act of power and wonderment!

This song is really an invitation to truly see the majesty of creation, the vast natural world that is our home. Seeing the beauty and immensity of the earth, we can’t help but be reminded of that which shaped it, the formless “magician” that gave form. The natural world is always telling us — Behold!

And my favorite lines –

Into the earth the Magician glances,
Into its mountains he may see.

Notice that this great Magician isn’t looking at the creation; no, he is looking “into” it. He sees into the earth and into the mountains. For this Magician, the apparently tangible world is not a realm of solidity and impenetrable surfaces. That doesn’t seem to be what interests him. His sight seems to flow effortlessly into the heart of all things, and that seems to be the only reality that draws his glance.

Pima (Anonymous)

US (18th Century) Timeline
Primal/Tribal/Shamanic : American Indian

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We are stories

Ivan M. Granger August 5th, 2009

Don’t take your joys and suffering personally.
We are – all of us – stories
told by God
to himself
to illuminate himself.