Poetry Chaikhana Blog

Ivan M. Granger November 18th, 2009

In bricks and in granite
by Civivakkiyar

English version by Kamil V. Zvelebil

In bricks and in granite,
in the red-rubbed lingam,
in copper and brass
is Siva’s abode –
      that’s what you tell us,
      and you’re wrong.
Stay where you are
and study your own selves.
Then you will BECOME
the Temple of God,
      full of His dance and spell
            and song.

— from The Poets of the Powers: Freedom, Magic, and Renewal, Translated by Kamil V. Zvelebil

/ Photo by paalia /

This poem exhibits the Tamil Siddha opposition to orthodoxy and mindless ritualism — which tend to externalize God, separating the individual from the presence of the Divine. Civivakkiyar is proclaiming that God (Siva) is not (only) found in temples and objects of worship, places and things that have been separated out and defined as sacred. Not “in bricks and in granite,” not in the “lingam” (a common representation of Siva), not in the ritual objects of “copper and brass.”

To say that God is in the temple or the altar or the icon and not elsewhere impoverishes us spiritually. That perspective makes us strangers to the presence of the sacred, which is everywhere, always.

The truth is that God is not ‘out there’ (wherever we imagine ‘there’ to be). The Divine is right here, right now, within us:

Stay where you are
and study your own selves.
Then you will BECOME
the Temple of God…

It is only within ourselves that we find the proper ground to worship and ultimately encounter God, whether we stand in the temple precinct, or the marketplace, the forest grove, or the office space.

When we stop running from ’sacred’ place to ’sacred’ place and, instead, finally recognize the living sacred presence everywhere — and most especially within ourselves — then we experience such an uninhibited flow of life and delight that we become filled with the eternal “dance and spell / and song.”

Civivakkiyar India (9th Century) Timeline Yoga / Hindu : Shaivite (Shiva)

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Ivan M. Granger November 16th, 2009

[10] With me along the strip of Herbage strown
by Omar Khayyam

English version by Edward FitzGerald

With me along the strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
      Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot –
And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne!

— from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, by Omar Khayyam / Translated by Edward FitzGerald

/ Photo by Andy Hay /

I’ve always liked this quatrain from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. With its lyric language, it beautifully evokes that mystic stillpoint in which all polarities are reconciled and balanced.

Khayyam invites us to walk with him “along the strip of Herbage strown” — that slender path of life — “That just divides the desert” — the barren places of the untended soul — “from the sown” — those places of the mind so heavily cultivated and patterned that, though it contains life, it has become artificial. It is the wild place, the natural place, the place of uncontained life in between the two we must find.

In this place, the “name of Slave and Sultan is forgot.” In this state of spiritual poise, all dichotomies, social divisions, mental dissections, and perceptual separations fall away. No one kneels below you and no one stands above you; everyone and everything profoundly IS, and it is all ONE.

Omar Khayyam Iran/Per (11th Century) Timeline Muslim / Sufi

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Ivan M. Granger November 13th, 2009

I drink no ordinary wine
by Ramprasad (Ramprasad Sen)

I drink no ordinary wine,
but Wine of Everlasting Bliss,
As I repeat my Mother Kali’s name;
It so intoxicates my mind that people take me to be drunk!
First my guru gives molasses for the making of the Wine;
My longing is the ferment to transform it.
Knowledge, the maker of the Wine,
prepares it for me then;
And when it is done,
my mind imbibes it from the bottle of the mantra,
Taking the Mother’s name to make it pure.
Drink of this Wine, says Ramprasad,
and the four fruits of life are yours.

— from Kali: The Black Goddess of Dakshineswar, by Elizabeth U. Harding

/ Photo by Findsiddiqui /

As with so many poems describing the experience of ecstatic union, this poem refers to wine, but “no ordinary wine.”

The “molasses” given by the guru to make the wine of sacred bliss is diksha or shaktipat — the energetic initiation given by a guru, usually accompanied by a mantra, in order to begin the process of awakening the Kundalini force within the seeker.

His intense desire or longing for God, the Divine Mother, “ferments” that energy, causing it to bubble and expand, giving it a vitality of its own.

When its expansion is complete, through spiritual practice and devotion, the Kundalini Shakti rises from the seat to the crown, complimented by the descending of a divine current that has a sweetness in the mouth and throat that is like drinking a heavenly liquid.

“Drink of this Wine, says Ramprasad” — indeed, we should!

Ramprasad (Ramprasad Sen) India (1718? - 1775?) Timeline Yoga / Hindu : Shakta (Goddess-oriented)

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Ivan M. Granger November 11th, 2009

Poetry Chaikhana readers often ask me about myself. Who is the guy behind all those poetry emails? What drew you to sacred poetry? And just what does “Poetry Chaikhana” mean?

As a way to answer some of those questions, I thought I’d post an audio interview I did a couple of years ago with the Ecstatic Art and Theater Project (www.ecstaticproject.org). I talk a little about myself, and a lot about poetry — the transformational power of poetry, the ways poetry naturally expresses the sacred experience, the non-dogmatic nature of poetry. And I read a few poems.

I hope you find it inspiring and thought-provoking…

Click to listen: EATP Interview with Ivan M. Granger

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Ivan M. Granger November 11th, 2009

Little Tiger
by Kelsang Gyatso

English version by Thubten Jinpa and Jas Elsener

The honey bee, a little tiger,
is not addicted to the taste of sugar;
his nature is to extract the juice
from the sweet lotus flower!

Dakinis, above, below, and on earth,
unimpeded by closeness and distance,
will surely extract the blissful essence
when the yogins bound by pledges gather.

The sun, the king of illumination,
is not inflated by self-importance;
by the karma of sentient beings,
it shines resplendent in the sky.

When the sun perfect in skill and wisdom
dawns in the sky of the illuminated mind,
without conceit, you beautify
and crown the beings of all three realms.

The smiling faces of the radiant moon
are not addicted to hide and seek;
by its relations with the sun,
the moon takes waning and waxing forms.

Though my gurus, embodiment of all refuge,
are free of all fluctuation and of faults,
through their flux-ridden karma the disciples perceive
that the guru’s three secrets display all kinds of effulgence.

Constellations of stars adorning the sky
are not competing in a race of speed;
due to the force of energy’s pull,
the twelve planets move clockwise with ease.

Guru, deity, and dakini — my refuge –
though not partial toward the faithful,
unfailingly you appear to guard
those with fortunate karma blessed.

The white clouds hovering above on high
are not so light that they arise from nowhere;
it is the meeting of moisture and heat
that makes the patches of mist in the sky.

Those striving for good karma
are not greedy in self-interest;
by the meeting of good conditions
they become unrivaled as they rise higher.

The clear expanse of the autumn sky
is not engaged in the act of cleansing;
yet being devoid of all obscuration,
its pure vision bejewels the eyes.

The groundless sphere of all phenomena
is not created fresh by a discursive mind;
yet when the face of ever-presence is known,
all concreteness spontaneously fades away.

Rainbows radiating colors freely
are not obsessed by attractive costumes;
by the force of dependent conditions,
they appear distinct and clearly.

This vivid appearance of the external world,
though not a self-projected image,
through the play of fluctuating thought and mind,
appears as paintings of real things.

— from Songs of Spiritual Experience: Tibetan Buddhist Poems of Insight & Awakening, Translated by Thupten Jinpa / Translated by Jas Elsner

/ Photo by chefranden /

…when the face of ever-presence is known,
all concreteness spontaneously fades away.

Love that line!

There is a lot being explored in this wisdom poem…

In so many ways the “vivid appearance of the external world” can become a trap for the distracted mind. Through the intensity of contact we get caught in constant reaction, running after pleasure, running from pain.

But this poem reminds us that such experiences are not inherently ‘real.’ It is not so much that things are unreal; rather, we tend not to see reality directly and, instead, see our own mental reproduction of reality. It is like looking at “paintings of real things” without realizing it.

This vivid appearance of the external world,
though not a self-projected image,
through the play of fluctuating thought and mind,
appears as paintings of real things.

What we call “experience” is really a story we tell ourselves, a story reflexively created by “fluctuating thought and mind” when it reaches out and touches an object that it perceives to be outside of itself. “Experience” is a mental overlay, and not the thing or event itself.

In the truly natural state, the awareness is at rest, perceiving without tension, encountering reality without an overlay of stories, without attraction or repulsion. In that pure awareness, life becomes a flow of events and interaction, not pushed by the self-will of likes and dislikes. We no longer imagine, “I have done this” or “I have experienced that.” We are simply as we are, in our pure state. Actions are done, but we do not do them. Events still occur, but they don’t happen to us, they simply unfold. We are no longer addicted to the “hide and seek” of life experience; its “waning and waxing” is simply its natural flow.

Then we become like the sun, illuminating and beautifying “without conceit.” We are rainbows, not obsessed by our “attractive costumes,” yet beautiful nonetheless. And like the honey bee, the “little tiger”, we are fiercely true to our nature, gathering nectar, not because we are addicted to its sweetness, but because that is what is in our nature to do.

The honey bee, a little tiger,
is not addicted to the taste of sugar;
his nature is to extract the juice
from the sweet lotus flower!

Kelsang Gyatso Tibet (1708 - 1757) Timeline Buddhist : Tibetan

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Ivan M. Granger November 9th, 2009

Love has subjugated me:
by Hadewijch

English version by Mother Columba Hart

Love has subjugated me:
      To me this is no surprise,
      For she is strong and I am weak.
      She makes me
      Unfree of myself,
      Continually against my will.
She does with me what she wishes;
Nothing of myself remains to me;
      Formerly I was rich,
Now I am poor: everything is lost in love.

— from Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women, Edited by Jane Hirshfield

/ Photo by Anlex Basilio /

I know this poem triggers a bit of a fear reflex. Although it speaks of Love, it seems to be about loss, loss of everything, loss of will, even loss of self. But I thought this might be a good follow-up to Friday’s poem, so let’s look a little deeper…

This verse uses such strong language that it is almost violent. Yet it is so intimate, it has an uncomfortably sexual element — “She does with me what she wishes…”

This is a mystic ravished by Love.

Hadewijch implies both a struggle, but also a supreme yielding. She is “subjugated” by Love. She is made “unfree.”

And this process of being overtaken by Love results in a complete loss:

Nothing of myself remains to me;
      Formerly I was rich,
Now I am poor: everything is lost in love.

We must remember that this is the mystic, in sacred ecstasy — but the words are the voice to the little self, the ego. The expanded self, however, is flooded with bliss. This real self has lost nothing, and instead has gained a wholeness of being difficult to put into words. Yet the little self that clings to fragments of reality… well, those fragments are lost in the unity. The more all-encompassing that unity, the more complete the ego’s loss.

So that is where the loss is, in the small self. It is the ego’s will that is thwarted. It is the ego that is weakened and impoverished. The new sense of being is much too big for the ego, and the ego-self is stretched into transparency. Finally, the ego loses even itself in the overwhelm of Love.

I know, those Medieval types had a special knack for making the most glorious insights sound gloomy. But remember the truth behind the words. The next time you cringe at some ancient religious tract praising poverty, loss of self, enslavement — remember. A deep mystic knows the bliss, the giddy freedom — and the immense flood of Love — contained in the words.

Every “thing” is lost, yes. But, in that rush of expansive Love, a whole universe enters your embrace.

Hadewijch Belgium (13th Century) Timeline Christian : Catholic

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Ivan M. Granger November 6th, 2009

Thief of hearts
by Ivan M. Granger

Thief of hearts,
you have ransacked
this beggar’s hut,
left me
nothing.

All I see
now
is the print
of your pilfering hand
everywhere.

/ Photo by notsogoodphotography /

As I’m getting back into the rhythm of the Poetry Chaikhana, I thought I’d take this opportunity to highlight one of my own poems. For a poem about thievery, I hope it gives you something special today…

===

The “thief of hearts” is, of course, the Beloved, God.

Let’s face it, from the ego’s point-of-view, the relationship with the Divine is a problematic one. What the heart recognizes as liberation, the ego sees as theft. It’s really very funny… when we’re not tormented by the spiritual dilemma, that is.

All that the ego claims as its own slips from its grip. Control and possession define the ego. So what is it to do when the master thief breaks into the awareness and reveals everything to be the filmy stuff of dreams and light?

In that ultimate moment, however, the emerging bliss is so all-pervasive that even the drowning ego laughs with its last gasp.

Something I thought I’d point out about the poem’s structure: The poem itself is a pair of thieving hands. It has two groups of five lines, suggesting two hands with five fingers each.

Also, notice that the lines “left me / nothing” are intentionally ambiguous. They could be saying that the thief of hearts has left me with nothing — having taken everything — or perhaps it is saying the thief has left me as nothing — without identity or sense of ego.

The line breaks for “All I see / now” force the unconscious mind to read several layers of meaning into the lines. Some part of the awareness will read that first line as a complete statement of its own: “I see all.” To follow with the single word “now” snaps the awareness into the present moment. When one sees all, one is fully present, now. Or, when one sees, all is in the present moment.

Yet each thing of that “all” has lost its ‘thingness.’ The “pilfering hand” has taken away the world normally perceived as a scattered collection of disconnected people and objects.

…But — and here’s another secret — that pilfering hand secretly gives as it takes. The “print” of that hand leaves us, instead, with a magical universe filled with immensity and life and a giddy sense of being that flows everywhere.

===

Too much explanation? Maybe we should just let the poem itself do its work…

Have a wonderful weekend!

Ivan M. Granger US (1969 - ) Secular or Eclectic Yoga / Hindu : Advaita / Non-Dualist

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Ivan M. Granger November 4th, 2009

The Divine Image
by William Blake

To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
Is God, our Father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
Is man, His child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace.

And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.

— from Music of the Sky: An Anthology of Spiritual Poetry, Edited by Patrick Laude / Edited by Barry McDonald

/ Photo by alicepopkorn /

If you’re like I am, you probably cringed at that line in the final stanza referring to “heathen, Turk or Jew.” The phrase sounds disparaging taken out of context. But reread what Blake is actually saying: He is using the common prejudice of the day, that white British Christians are superior to heathens, Turks and Jews, and he turns it on its head. He declares that “Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell / There God is dwelling too.”

In other words, Blake is offering a truly universal vision of God that transcends religious, racial, and cultural boundaries. God isn’t limited to specific dogmas. God doesn’t favor one skin color or one national flag over another. God dwells where the human heart in fruition has made a home for “Love, Mercy, Pity, and Peace.”

Where there is love, where there is mercy and compassion and empathy, where there is deep peace — that is where God is found among people, regardless of who those people are or by what name they call God.

And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.

If more poems like this were read, think how different the world would be.

William Blake England (1757 - 1827) Timeline Secular or Eclectic Christian

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Ivan M. Granger November 2nd, 2009

Whether they know Thee or not
by Fakhruddin Iraqi

English version by William Chittick and Peter Lamborn Wilson

Whether they know Thee or not
      all creatures of the world
now and forever-without-end
      bend but toward Thee.
All love for someone else
      is but a whiff
of Thy perfume:
      none else can be loved.

— from Fakhruddin Iraqi: Divine Flashes (Classics of Western Spirituality) , by William Chittick / Nasr Seyyed Hossein

/ Photo by lepiaf.geo /

I’m back and so are the poems. Again, thank you from my heart for the many notes in recent weeks. And thank you too for your patience. Now for a poem by the great Fakhruddin Iraqi…

==

all creatures of the world
now and forever-without-end
bend but toward Thee.

Love those lines. And we forget that this is true. Not just all people, but all beings, consciously or unconsciously constantly turn toward the Eternal. Everything desired, everything loved, every hope, every goal, everything we seek we seek because on some level it reflects back to us an image of the Divine.

All love for someone else
      is but a whiff
of Thy perfume

When something catches our eye or our heart, beneath the love or the lust, when we really look, we find we have witnessed a glimpse the transcendent light. That light, that entrancing luster, is what we seek so passionately.

Understanding this leads to the deeper question: Why seek the countless objects of desire that only reflect the glistening light of the Beloved? Why grasp at glinting shards of a mirror when we can bathe in full sunlight?

In every love, we love the Beloved.

none else can be loved.

Fakhruddin Iraqi Iran (? - 1289) Timeline Muslim / Sufi

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Ivan M. Granger October 5th, 2009

How can I see the splendor of the moon
by Bibi Hayati

English version by Aliki Barnstone

How can I see the splendor of the moon
If his face shines over my heart,
Flaming like the sun?

The Turks in his eyes charge through my soul,
While untrue curling hair
Defeats faith.

Yet if he lifted the veil from his face,
The world would be undone,
The universe astounded.

He walks through the garden
With grace, erect,
His exquisite posture mocking even the straight cypresses.

He charges, riding his gnostic horse
Into the holy space of divinity,
The sacred sphere.

Tonight the Saki with its red-stained ruby lips
Pours wine for the luxury of every drunk,
And sates every reveler’s taste.

As Hayati has drunk his ecstasy,
Her soul now satisfied by the wine of his pure heart,
How can she drink any other nectar?

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

/ Photo by jenny downing /

Have you stepped outside in the last few evenings to notice the full moon? Because she changes, the moon draws our attention. But how difficult is it to pause and truly recognize the radiant beauty of the steady sun? Our certainty of the sun, the all-permeating nature of its light too often means we don’t see it at all…

In this poem, the “splendor of the moon” can be understood to represent creation. The moon, in its waxing and waning cycles, its changeability, expresses the most glorious or most brilliant aspects of the manifest world. And, in its femininity, the moon also represents the poet herself, her soul.

Unlike the fluctuating light of the moon, the sun’s light is steady, constant, overpowering of all other light; in fact, it is the source of all other light, including the moon’s. The masculine sun represents the Beloved to the feminine soul. In this poem, the sun is God.

When the sun of God’s face shines over her heart, all of creation and all of herself is consumed in its flaming light. She sees nothing but the light of God, feeling that presence upon her heart.

And, as with so many sacred poems, especially within the Sufi tradition, wine here is the mystical drink. Bibi Hayati refers to the wine as having come from “his” (the Beloved’s, God’s) pure heart.

It is the true nectar. It flows in abundance. What else can satisfy?

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

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Ivan M. Granger October 2nd, 2009

As once the winged energy of delight
by Rainer Maria Rilke

English version by Stephen Mitchell

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over childhood’s dark abysses,
now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges.

Wonders happen if we can succeed
in passing through the harshest danger;
but only in a bright and purely granted
achievement can we realize the wonder.

To work with Things in the indescribable
relationship is not too hard for us;
the pattern grows more intricate and subtle,
and being swept along is not enough.

Take your practiced powers and stretch them out
until they span the chasm between two
contradictions… For the god
wants to know himself in you.

— from Ahead of All Parting: The Selected Poetry and Prose of Rainer Maria Rilke, Translated by Stephen Mitchell

/ Photo by u07ch /

My apologies — I’m running late today after a morning spent troubleshooting problems with phone lines. Phones and email should now be working again… So how about a poem for this Friday?

==

So many lines in this poem by Rilke just dance, don’t they?

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over childhood’s dark abysses…

The “winged energy of delight” carrying us over “childhood’s dark abysses.” Mm.

…now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges

You know, I could go line by line through this poem, and merely rotate my responses with “Wow!” and “Wonderful!” and “Love that!”

Why don’t I let you do that instead.

Once we’ve gotten past that reaction, then we can begin to hear what he’s really saying.

For the god
wants to know himself in you.

Have a blessed weekend! (Me, I’m going for a drive in the mountains to be among the aspens at their golden peak…)

Rainer Maria Rilke Germany (1875 - 1926) Timeline Secular or Eclectic

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Ivan M. Granger September 30th, 2009

You think of the Path
by Ram Tzu (Wayne Liquorman)

You think of the Path
As a long arduous climb
Up the mountain.

You concede there may be
Many paths
But you’re sure
All have the same
Exalted goal.

Ram Tzu knows this…

There ARE many Paths.

Like streams
They flow effortlessly
(though not necessarily painlessly)
Down the mountain.

All disappear
Into the desert sands below

— from No Way: For the Spiritually “Advanced”, by Wayne Liquorman

/ Photo by mateo caprari /

Ramesh Balsekar died this past weekend, on September 27. He was a well-known as a spiritual teacher of Advaita Vedanta, the Hindu nondualist tradition. So I thought it might be appropriate to remember him through this poem by one of his best known Western students Wayne Liquorman (who sometimes writes under the pen name of Ram Tzu).

==

In this poem, why do you suppose Ram Tzu has reversed the traditional image of the spiritual journey, transforming it from a path (or many paths) that go up a mountain into many streams that flow down a mountain… and disappear into sands? What is he saying about effort and non-effort? What does the image of the streams disappearing into the sands say about his nondualist perspective?

A few questions to contemplate…

Ram Tzu (Wayne Liquorman) US (1950 - ) Yoga / Hindu : Advaita / Non-Dualist Secular or Eclectic

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Ivan M. Granger September 28th, 2009

To Be Shown to the Monks at a Certain Temple
by Chiao Jan

English version by J. P. Seaton

Not yet to the shore of nondoing,
it’s silly to be sad you’re not moored yet…
Eastmount’s white clouds say
to keep on moving, even
if it’s evening, even if it’s fall.

— from The Shambhala Anthology of Chinese Poetry, Edited by J. P. Seaton

/ Photo by bslmmrs /

On this Monday, when most people are starting their work week, focused on action and accomplishment, I thought Chiao Jan should remind us of the goal of “nondoing.”

Not yet to the shore of nondoing,
it’s silly to be sad you’re not moored yet…

To be “moored” implies the boat of the self has arrived at its destination — enlightenment. But what does that have to do with “nondoing”?

Nondoing isn’t so much inactivity; rather, in the midst of action, there is no personal sense of doership. Action takes place through you, but within you are quiet, at ease, a serene witness. Action no longer emerges from the impulses of the ego, and actions do not reinforce the ego. I know this sounds like a concept that only arcane philosophers would care about, but the actual experience is one of delightful, pure flow, as if a layer of grime has finally been washed from your hands. Movement just naturally occurs upon an open field of awareness. Some traditions describe this actionless action as writing on water, the movement occurs but no trace of ego is left behind.

So this is Chiao Jan’s nondoing.

But he is writing this from the perspective of an aging monk who hasn’t quite reached that shore yet. Even though it’s evening, even if it’s fall, even if if the years have gathered in our bones and hang upon our faces, the mountain of the east — the direction of sunrise and enlightenment — beckons us onward, and inward. We journey until we arrive.

And Chiao Jan is absolutely right: It is silly to be sad at not yet having arrived. There’s a secret key here, one that’s so easy to overlook in spiritual practice. It’s silly to be sad to be where one is. Think about that for a moment. To wish to be somewhere else, even if that somewhere is enlightenment, is to wish to be somewhere other than where you are. Whereas true enlightenment — and nondoing — are only possible when one is deeply present. It is only by fully being where we are that we then discover our boat has arrived at the shore.

Chiao Jan China (730 - 799) Timeline Buddhist : Zen / Chan

Chiao Jan was an aristocrat during the Golden Age of the T’ang era in China. He later became a Ch’an (Zen) Buddhist monk.

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Ivan M. Granger September 25th, 2009

A Holy Tabernacle in the Heart (from Life of the Future World)
by Rabbi Abraham Abulafia

English version by Jewish Theological Seminary

However,
      the breath
which is
      from the second one
is a
      holy
      tabernacle
in the heart.
One ascends
      with the Unique Name
      to the sky
      to depict with Unifications
      the relationship
between everything that
      is difficult
      in this
      science of pronunciation.
It alone is
      life in the Name.
It is remembered and sealed
      in the Book of Life
to make the individual live
      with passion
      which enlightens
constantly, when
      every thought,
      every soul
is concentrated on it.

— from Meditation and Kabbalah, by Aryeh Kaplan

/ Photo by Andréia /

Sunday evening begins Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement.

When we approach our own imperfections with honesty, integrity, and humility, we are surprised to find ourselves freed and able to make new, better decisions in the future.

Our mistakes rarely come from lack of will power. It’s not usually that we didn’t try hard enough. When we really look, we discover that most of our mistakes come from limited perception. We make poor choices when our awareness is clouded. The work, then, is not to be stricter with ourselves; instead, we need to see ourselves and our world more clearly. When we do that the best path of action not only becomes obvious, it is the path we prefer.

to make the individual live
      with passion
      which enlightens
constantly, when
      every thought,
      every soul
is concentrated on it.

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There is an interesting connection in this verse that is easily missed. Rabbi Abulafia is, of course, saying something about the Kabbalistic practice of word permutations, as a way of discovering the foundational Word. This “Unique Name” becomes a ladder, allowing us to ascend to the heavenly realms, where we discover the interrelationship of things and the “Unifications” underlying reality.

But if we back up to the very beginning lines, he could be reminding us that this “science of pronunciation,” the speaking of words rides upon the breath. And the breath emerges from the “holy tabernacle in the heart.”

He is giving us a sacred formula:

Heart > Breath > Words > The Word > Heaven

Words without heart and breath, do they lead anywhere?

Rabbi Abraham Abulafia Spain (1240 - 1295?) Timeline Jewish

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Ivan M. Granger September 23rd, 2009

Interrelationship
by Thich Nhat Hanh

You are me, and I am you.
Isn’t it obvious that we “inter-are”?
You cultivate the flower in yourself,
so that I will be beautiful.
I transform the garbage in myself,
so that you will not have to suffer.

I support you;
you support me.
I am in this world to offer you peace;
you are in this world to bring me joy.

— from Call Me by My True Names: The Collected Poems of Thich Nhat Hanh, by Thich Nhat Hanh

/ Photo by jmurawski /

This poem by the great modern Buddhist teacher and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh was written during a retreat for psychotherapists held in Colorado in response to Fritz Perls’ statement, “You are you, and I am me, and if by chance we meet, that’s wonderful. If not, it couldn’t be helped.”

This is a brief meditation on the Buddhist teaching of “inter-being.” Within the nondual awareness cultivated in Buddhism, especially the Zen Buddhism taught by Thich Nhat Hanh, nothing exists separately of everything else. Everything, ourselves included, is recognized as being a meeting point of shifting forces, environment, time, and perception. It is only in that touching, that interaction, that forms arise and individuals are said to exist. Remove those forces, and individual beings and objects cannot exist. In this sense, as individuals we are not spots that occupy space on the blank field of creation, rather we are empty spaces that are only suggested by the confluence of various forces. Discover that empty space, and you discover the eternal, blissful Void that is the true Self — void of form and “thingness,” but filled with life and awareness.

To return to Thich Nhat Hanh’s poem, as individuals with a certain body form and name and history, we exist only in the perception of each other. This is how he can pose the question, “Isn’t it obvious that we ‘inter-are’?”

By cultivating pure and compassionate awareness within ourselves, we transform those who perceive us, for their perception of us is a part of what they are composed of. And the more we “transform the garbage” in ourselves, the less that garbage shows up in those around us.

In this way of inter-being, the more we discover peace, the more we offer peace; the more we find joy, the more we bring joy.

Thich Nhat Hanh Vietnam (1929 - ) Buddhist : Zen / Chan

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Ivan M. Granger September 21st, 2009

When the Day Came
by Kabir

English version by Andrew Harvey

When the Day came –
The Day I had lived and died for –
The Day that is not in any calendar –
Clouds heavy with love
Showered me with wild abundance.
Inside me, my soul was drenched.
Around me, even the desert grew green.

— from Perfume of the Desert: Inspirations from the Sufi Wisdom, by Andrew Harvey / Eryk Hanut

/ Photo by aloshbennett /

It’s a rainy morning where I live in Colorado. Heavy clouds. Water hanging off each leaf…

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It is the end of the month-long fast of Ramadan for Muslims. For Hindus, it is the middle of Navaratri, the nine day festival of the Divine Mother. In Judaism, we just finished celebrating Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year. And tomorrow is the Autumn Equinox.

Plenty of reason for almost everyone to go out and celebrate! Find a big puddle and splash around with both feet! Forget your umbrella.

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

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