Dec 07 2012
maps
Sacred texts:
A map doesn’t mean anything
if you don’t make the journey.
Dec 07 2012
John O’Donohue – For Freedom
For Freedom
by John O’Donohue
As a bird soars high
In the free holding of the wind,
Clear of the certainty of ground,
Opening the imagination of wings
Into the grace of emptiness
To fulfill new voyagings,
May your life awaken
To the call of its freedom.
As the ocean absolves itself
Of the expectation of land,
Approaching only
In the form of waves
That fill and pleat and fall
With such gradual elegance
As to make of the limit
A sonorous threshold
Whose music echoes back among
The give and strain of memory,
Thus may your heart know the patience
That can draw infinity from limitation.
As the embrace of the earth
Welcomes all we call death,
Taking deep into itself
The right solitude of a seed,
Allowing it time
To shed the grip of former form
And give way to a deeper generosity
That will one day send it forth,
A tree into springtime,
May all that holds you
Fall from its hungry ledge
Into the fecund surge of your heart.
— from To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings, by John O’Donohue
/ Photo by Kaysse /
A blessing poem for us all by John O’Donohue. Here at the end of the year, this poem of freedom, death and reawakening, of renewed vision, renewed possibility, and renewed self… feels deeply right today.
Wow. This is one of those poems where every time I re-read a line with the idea of writing some commentary, I get drawn in so deeply that I read all the way to the end again, whispering several times “Ohh, that’s nice!” along the way.
There isn’t much to comment on here, really. The meaning isn’t particularly obscure. Reading these lovely lines doesn’t fire any of those chatty parts of my brain: the meditator’s ‘Aha!’ corner, the esoteric nerd, the historian, the editor. When that happens, I often fall back on plucking a few choice lines from the poem, holding them up to you, and saying something rather feeble, like, “Aren’t these wonderful words?”
As a bird soars high
In the free holding of the wind…
But even that fails me with this poem, because it isn’t just a few isolated lines. Each phrase that grabs my attention pours into the next line and the next, until I have half the poem reproduced.
Clear of the certainty of ground…
Opening the imagination of wings…
Into the grace of emptiness…
To fulfill new voyagings…
May your life awaken
To the call of its freedom.
So I’ll just say reread this poem, savor it, let the words and ideas settle on you and in you like a healing balm, restoring breath and self and the courage to let go in order to step forward and profoundly be.
May all that holds you
Fall from its hungry ledge
Into the fecund surge of your heart.
Sending much love to everyone!
|
John O’Donohue
Ireland (1956 – 2008) Timeline |
Dec 06 2012
Video: Real Thirst – by Ivan M. Granger
I am really pleased to announce the first poem video from my collection Real Thirst.
Actually, this is my first video ever. I had a delightful time figuring out how to do everything. I discovered, for example, the fascinating world of royalty-free audio clips and sound effects. Virtually any type of sound you can imagine is available; the challenge is to unleash the imagination, to hear the empty spaces and imagine which sound wants to fill that space. It is like creating a painting with sound.
I had fun putting it all together over a couple of afternoons… a handful of images, use of camera pans, sounds and music, text, voice, a few added effects, all layered and woven together to tell a story, or evoke a visionary dream.
I hope this short video inspires and brings a smile.
Let me know what you think. And please feel free to share this video around on the Internet.
A couple more videos to come, as time (and creativity) allow…
Dec 04 2012
Holiday Book Recommendations 2012
December already — wow! It seems as if each year I am surprised to realize that the holidays are here again. My internal clock follows its own seasons.
With the holidays coming up, I thought I’d take a moment to remind you that books of sacred poetry make wonderful gifts (including gifts to yourself 
.
I’ve gathered together a few of my favorite collections of sacred poetry — a holiday sampler for you and your loved ones:
To slake that thirst (or awaken it)…
 |
Real Thirst: Poetry of the Spiritual Journey Poems & Translations by Ivan M. Granger |
We have to celebrate the publication of the Poetry Chaikhana’s first book! Original poems by Ivan M. Granger (yours truly) with new translations of works by visionaries from both East and West: John of the Cross, Francis of Assisi, Symeon the New Theologian, Hakim Sanai, Tukaram, Sarmad, Bulleh Shah, Sachal Sarmast, Vladimir Solovyov, Tulsi Sahib, and Antonio Machado.
“I found Real Thirst to be a slow, cool and refreshing drink. I believe you will find these poems an antidote to the rush of your days.” ~ JOHN FOX author of Poetic Medicine: The Healing Art of Poem-Making
==
For the modern mystic…
Every time I feature a poem by Dorothy Walters on the Poetry Chaikhana, I receive a flood of enthusiastic emails. Andrew Harvey praises her poetry as a “…record shameless but unhysterical of an extreme love affair with the Divine.” |
The author of several classic books in the field of conscious living and dying — including A Gradual Awakening, Who Dies?, Healing into Life and Death, and A Year to Live. This collection reveals he is also a poet of clear vision and grace. |
The poetry of David Whyte continues to be a deep well of inspiration. Beneath his craft of words, he reveals a rich silence and a patient eye. This collection is one to spend time with. |
==
For the eclectic…
 |
The Enlightened Heart: An Anthology of Sacred Poetry by Stephen Mitchell |
This is a compact anthology, but a wonderful collection that includes Li Po, Wu-Men, Rumi, Kabir, Mirabai, Rilke… And the added bonus of Stephen Mitchell’s way with words. One of my personal favorites.
==
For the wise woman…..
 |
Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women Edited by Jane Hirshfield |
This is the first anthology I got years ago that made me say, Wow! Includes Sappho, Rabia, Yeshe Tsogyel, Hildegard von Bingen, Mechthild of Magdeburg, Hadewijch of Antwerp, Lalla, Mirabai, Bibi Hayati, Marina Tsvetaeva. The best collection I’ve found of women’s voices in sacred poetry.
==
Illuminated and Illustrated…
A follow-up to the excellent Illuminated Rumi — excerpts of Rumi’s poetry accompanied by digital collage artwork that draws you deeply into each page. This book entrances on several levels. An excellent gift book. |
A 20th century Indian Yogi commenting on the spiritual meaning of an 11th century Persian Sufi’s poetry. That combination yields both perfume and controversy — but plenty to contemplate. Lovely artwork and border scrollwork. And Fitzgerald’s delightful translation of this classic. Recommended. |
Brief selections from Ibn Arabi’s metaphysical love poem “The Interpreter of Desires” combined with the amazing Arabic calligraphy of Hassan Massoudy. If you didn’t think calligraphy could be fine art, you have to look at this book. Find a quiet place, open this book, and lose yourself in any page… |
==
A Sufi sampler…
 |
Perfume of the Desert: Inspirations from the Sufi Wisdom by Andrew Harvey / Eryk Hanut |
Something about Andrew Harvey’s selections and translations always strike a pure note. This book is a delightful collection of poetry and Sufi wisdom stories. Rumi, Kabir, al-Hallaj, Shabistari, Ansari… This is one I return to again and again.
==
A little Zen in your pocket…
 |
The Poetry of Zen: (Shambhalla Library) Edited by Sam Hamill / Edited by J. P. Seaton |
A very nice sampler of Japanese and Chinese Zen poetry. Han Shan, Li Po, Wang Wei, Basho, Soseki, Ryokan, Issa… The book fits well in your hand when you’re walking to the riverside or the local coffee shop.
==
For the Christian contemplative…
This has quickly become one of my favorite collections of sacred poetry within the many Christian traditions. John of the Cross, Merton, Hildegard von Bingen, Gibran, Dante, Meister Eckhart, Blake… and Roger Housden’s brief, thoughtful insights. |
This is the book that, years ago, introduced me to the stunning poetry of Symeon the New Theologian, igniting my passion for his visionary poetry of light and transformation. You’ll also find poems and poetic renditions of writings from many other saints and mystics of the Eastern Orthodox Church. Still a favorite of mine. |
I can’t recommend this collection highly enough. Merton, in addition to being a deep mystic, was a truly excellent contemporary poet. His poems feel entirely modern, yet touch on the eternal. While drawing on Catholic imagery, one can hear whispers of Eastern philosophy and insight in his words. Poems to reread and meditate deeply upon. |
==
For the contemplative activist…
 |
Call Me by My True Names: The Collected Poems of Thich Nhat Hanh by Thich Nhat Hanh |
Poetry by the beloved modern master Thich Nhat Hanh, exploring service and suffering, humanity and interbeing, breath and stillness, beauty and bliss.
==
Lovers and the Beloved…
Bhakti love poems from Radha to Krishna, originally written by a 14-year-old Rabindranath Tagore – as a hoax! That teenage boy became one of the great poets of the early 20th century, and these poems touch the lover’s heart on so many levels. |
This has become my favorite translation of poems by the great Kashmiri mystic poet, Lal Ded. Sharp insight, flashes of humor, and vast timeless spaces. |
Despite the book’s title, these are not poems by the historic Sufi poet Hafiz; instead, it is a delightful collection of contemporary poems infused with the spirit of Hafiz. These poems tease and wink, and lead us chuckling to surprising moments of insight. |
==
Poetic keys to the journey…
 |
Saved by a Poem: The Transformative Power of Words by Kim Rosen |
What can I say? Read the first few pages and you won’t want to stop. An exploration of the power of poetry to open our lives in surprising, healing ways and, at the same time, an engaging personal memoir. Highly recommended.
==
For those early mornings…
 |
Why I Wake Early by Mary Oliver |
You can’t go wrong with anything by Mary Oliver, but if you’re looking for a good introduction to her poetry, Why I Wake Early is a nice place to start. This collection is one to enjoy, one poem at a time, in those quiet moments before the busyness of the day starts.
==
And for blessings…
| |
To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings by John O’Donohue |
I keep being told by people how much they love this book of poetic blessings from the Irish philosopher, poet, and mystic, John O’Donohue. These poetically crafted blessings and meditations on the passages of life manage to elevate the spirit, warm the heart, and, on occasion, bring a tear to the eye.
==
For even more excellent book recommendations, click here.
May you and your loved ones have a special holiday season during this time when the sacred light renews itself in the midst of darkness –
– and may the new year bring you bright blessings!
Ivan
Dec 03 2012
Sri Aurobindo – The Word of the Silence
The Word of The Silence
by Aurobindo
A bare impersonal hush is now my mind,
A world of sight clear and inimitable,
A volume of silence by a Godhead signed,
A greatness pure, virgin of will.
Once on its pages Ignorance could write
In a scribble of intellect the blind guess of Time
And cast gleam-messages of ephemeral light,
A food for souls that wander on Nature’s rim.
But now I listen to a greater Word
Born from the mute unseen omniscient Ray:
The Voice that only Silence’s ear has heard
Leaps missioned from an eternal glory of Day.
All turns from a wideness and unbroken peace
To a tumult of joy in a sea of wide release.
/ Photo by kim-e-sens /
This poem describes the profound silence that engulfs us in the states of deepest communion — and the true healing it brings. The rumble of the mind is quiet, emotions are still. All projections onto reality cease, making our “sight clear,” revealing the world as it is, “inimitable.”
When deep silence is truly encountered, we begin to recognize the limitations and erratic nature of the intellect. It is constantly busy and scrawling in a thousand directions, like a “scribble” on a clean sheet of paper. It can be said to be a form of “Ignorance” or false knowledge. At best, such activity produces “gleam-messages of ephemeral light” that feed us as best they can when we wander lost at the edge of awareness — the results are not lasting, they to do not get to the root of the problems of worldly existence, they do not touch on the eternal.
Sri Aurobindo has recognized in deep, mystic silence, “the Word,” the meta-word that contains all words, all forms, all possibilities. It is a wordless “voice” that can be heard only in silence, but it frees the “eternal glory” of enlightenment, of “Day.”
And, in that “Day” of enlightenment, in that “wideness and unbroken peace,” everything — everything! — turns “to a tumult of joy” and ecstatic freedom.
This is what the world truly hungers for. It cannot be found through mental work, or through any activity that is a mere rearrangement of forms and systems. Real healing, real service always returns people and the world to their original, eternal source, which is revealed by “The Word of The Silence.”
|
Aurobindo
India (1872 – 1950) Timeline |
Nov 30 2012
Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi – You have fallen in love my dear heart
You have fallen in love my dear heart
by Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi
English version by Azima Melita Kolin and Maryam Mafi
You have fallen in love my dear heart
Congratulations!
You have freed yourself from all attachments
Congratulations!
You have given up both worlds to be on your own
the whole creation praises your solitude
Congratulations!
Your disbelief has turned into belief
your bitterness, into sweetness
Congratulations!
You have now entered into Love’s fire, my pure heart
Congratulations!
Inside the Sufi’s heart there is always a feast
dear heart, you are celebrating
Congratulations!
My heart, I have seen how your tears turned into a sea
now every wave keeps saying
Congratulations!
O silent lover, seeker of the higher planes,
may the Beloved always be with you
Congratulations!
You have struggled hard, may you grow wings and fly
Congratulations!
Keep silent my dear heart, you have done so well
Congratulations!
— from Rumi: Hidden Music, Translated by Azima Melita Kolin / Translated by Maryam Mafi
/ Photo by JeanFan /
You have fallen in love my dear heart
Congratulations!
Today’s poem sings so well, that I think I’ll savor it in silence…
Keep silent my dear heart, you have done so well
Congratulations!
–
Thank You
I’ll just take a moment to thank everyone, sincerely, for the many donations that have come in since I sent out my note describing all that I do Behind the Scenes of the Poetry Chaikhana. Every donation of every amount is so helpful and appreciated — truly. My day job does not provide enough income to also cover all the expenses of maintaining the Poetry Chaikhana. Your collective donations, small and large, allow me to keep doing this work and slowly expand with new projects. You have made the Poetry Chaikhana possible. Thank you and much love to all of you!
And have a beautiful weekend!
|
Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi
Afghanistan & Turkey (1207 – 1273) Timeline |
Nov 28 2012
Guru Nanak – Ek Omkar
Ek Omkar
by Guru Nanak
English version by John Stratton Hawley and Mark Juergensmeyer
Ek
Omkar
True name
Person who creates
Beyond fear and opposition
A form beyond time
Unborn, self-born
The guru’s grace.
Repeat this.
The ancient truth, ageless truth
Is also, now, truth.
And Nanak says,
It will always be truth.
— from Songs of the Saints of India, Translated by John Stratton Hawley / Translated by Mark Juergensmeyer
/ Photo by Koshyk /
Today, according to the Sikh lunar calendar, is the birthday of Guru Nanak, the founder of the Sikh religion. I should highlight more Sikh sacred poetry since, after all, so much of the Sikh scriptures are poetry…
Those first lines, “Ek Omkar” (more commonly rendered as “Ek Ongkar” or sometimes “Ik Ongkar”) are the opening lines of the Sikh holy book, the Adi Granth Sahib.
These lines are so important to the Sikh faith that they are referred to as the Mool Mantar, or root mantra, said to be the first words spoken by Guru Nanak upon enlightenment. As such, they become the core statement of belief for Sikhs.
Ongkar (Omkar) is the fundamental sound “Ong” (“OM” or “AUM”) that permeates and underlies all of existence. Ongkar is understood as the primal manifestation of God, the voice of God, the “true name” of God.
Why do so many spiritual traditions link God with sound? In such a busy visual world, this is not always understood. When we are quiet, deeply still, and the attention is turned inward… a soft sound is heard. At first it might be like the quiet chirping of crickets in the night, the hum of beesong, or the flowing of gentle stream. It is heard as a random, soothing “white noise” that seems to emanate from the base of the skull.
When we learn to recognize it, focus on it, follow it, this sound resolves into a clearer pitch that can resemble the pure note of a flute or the ringing of a bell. First it is heard and, finally, felt throughout the body.
To Hindus, this sound is Krishna’s flute calling his devotees to him. It is the ringing of the bells of paradise. Wordless, it is the vibratory Word through which creation manifests.
This sound signals the beginning of deep communion with the Eternal. The more we open to the sound, the more the attention is drawn heavenward while the divine flow pours through us.
Returning, then, to these sacred opening lines, Ek means One. So we can read “Ek Ongkar” as “God is One,” or “God’s Name is One,” or “God’s Manifestation is One.” And since all of creation is the result of this divine vibration of manifestation, all of creation similarly is One in God. “Ek Ongkar” is an assertion of supreme inclusivity and sacred unity. God is One, and we are One in God.
Ongkar is the sound or vibration of God through which creation comes into existence (what, in Christian theology, would be called The Word). Thus Guru Nanak refers to Ongkar as the “Person who creates.”
The ancient truth, ageless truth
Is also, now, truth.
I love these lines, but they can cause confusion if we read them superficially.
Fundamentalists of various religions have a tendency to misunderstand statements like this and assert that religion should remain fixed. Too often that attitude leads to cultural and intellectual fossilization. They confuse religion with God, the practice with the Goal. This happens especially when the esoteric heart of religion is lost.
When the wise proclaim that truth doesn’t change they are speaking of something deeper. Guru Nanak is proclaiming that Truth is eternal, not just in the past, not just in the distant future, but it is equally present right here, right now. It is “beyond time / Unborn, self-born.” It is a living, accessible Truth, not simply a perpetuation of belief or form of worship.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not at all suggesting we should neglect religious tradition. We must honor the traditions and practices that have brought us into this very moment. But we must honor them by understanding them. In fact, if we don’t understand our religious traditions, we won’t understand the present moment or our cultural identity.
But it is only through directly experiencing the Eternal that our traditions reveal their full meaning. Without that direct experience of Truth, we are simply acting as museum curators. Cultures change — always. We must always be engaged in that change, intelligently adapting the ancient ways, integrating them into the living present.
To do that properly, we must be aware that beneath the shifting surface of time and human activity, there remains a fundamental state of being that is “beyond time,” and this can be directly witnessed. We need true, deep mystics to understand how to live our ancient faiths in the present moment. Better still, we must each become true, deep mystics ourselves. Then we will know and properly honor “the ancient truth, ageless truth” that Guru Nanak and all great sages proclaim.
A form beyond time…
|
Guru Nanak |
Nov 23 2012
within
Every nation, every person, every object
is within yourself.
Forgive the whole world
and watch what happens within yourself.
Nov 23 2012
Dorothy Walters – Hymn to the Nameless One
Hymn to the Nameless One
by Dorothy Walters
Now as the year swings down,
and the darkness encloses
even the smallest bird,
the largest animal,
and we too enter the hour
when everything is falling once more
into the twilight
of not knowing,
what we ask is that
you be with us,
not as a pillar of fire
nor a blaze across
the heavens,
but like water
at rest in a pitcher
which catches the morning light
and is filled
with its own radiance.
— from The Ley Lines of the Soul: Poems of Ecstasy and Ascension, by Dorothy Walters
/ Photo by Mr Empey /
Now as the year swings down,
and the darkness encloses
even the smallest bird,
the largest animal,
and we too enter the hour
when everything is falling once more
into the twilight
of not knowing…
Mm. I love these quiet lines. Reading them, I can feel a winter evening settling in. I imagine silver twilight deepening into night, a world silenced by softly falling snow. And here I stand warm beneath my roof, bathed in electric light, but staring out the window into a world huge and dark, inviting me to step out into its engulfing mystery. Perhaps adventure stirs inside me and I wrap myself in a thick coat and step outside. Or maybe I don’t move at all and invite the that immense unknown into my searching eyes to see what stirs inside me.
what we ask is that
you be with us,
not as a pillar of fire
nor a blaze across
the heavens,
but like water
at rest in a pitcher
which catches the morning light
and is filled
with its own radiance.
|
Dorothy Walters
US (1928 – ) |
Nov 21 2012
future eternity
There is a misconception that Eternity
is somewhere in the future.
If you want to touch Eternity,
dive deep into the present.
Nov 21 2012
Hakim Sanai – Naked in the Bee-House
Naked in the Bee-House
by Hakim Sanai
English version by Coleman Barks
Being humble is right for you now.
Don’t thrash around showing your strength.
You’re naked in the bee-house!
It doesn’t matter how powerful
your arms and legs are.
To God, that is more of a lie
than your weakness is.
In his doorway your prestige
and your physical energy are just dust
on your face. Be helpless
and completely poor.
And don’t try to meet his eye!
That’s like signing a paper
that honors yourself.
If you can take care of things, do so!
But when you’re living at home with God,
you neither sew the world together
with desires nor tear it apart
with disappointments.
In that place existence itself
is illusion. All that is, is one.
Lost in that, your personal form
becomes a vast, empty mosque.
When you hold on to yourself,
you’re a fire-worshipping temple.
Dissolve, and let everything get done.
When you don’t, you’re an untrained colt,
full of erratic loving and biting.
Loyal sometimes, then treacherous.
Be more like the servant who owns nothing
and is neither hungry nor satisfied,
who has no hopes for anything,
and no fear of anyone.
An owl living near the king’s palace
is considered a bird of misfortune,
ragged and ominous. But off in the woods,
sitting alone, its feathers grow splendid
and sleek like the Phoenix restored.
Musk should not be kept near water or heat.
The dampness and the dryness spoil
its fragrance. But when the musk is at home
in the musk bladder, fire and wetness
mean nothing. In God’s doorway your guilt
and your virtue don’t count.
Whether you’re Muslim, or Christian, or
fire-worshipper, the categories disappear.
You’re seeking, and God is what is
sought, the essence beyond any cause.
External theological learning moves like a moon
and fades when the sun of experience rises.
We are here for a week, or less.
We arrive and leave almost simultaneously.
To be is not to be.
The Qur’an says, “They go hastening,
with the Light running on before them.”
Clear the way! Muhammed says, “How fine!”
A sigh goes out, and there is union.
Forget how you came to this gate, your history.
Let that be as if it had not been.
Do you think the day plans its course
by what the rooster says?
God does not depend on any of his creatures.
Your existence or non-existence is insignificant.
Many like you have come here before.
When the fountain of light is pouring,
there’s no need to urge it on!
That’s like a handful of straw
trying to help the sun. “This way!
Please, let this light through!”
The sun doesn’t need an announcer.
The lamp you carry is your self-reliance.
The sun is something else!
Half a sneeze might extinguish your langern,
whereas all a winter’s windiness
cannot put That out.
The road you must take has no particular name.
It’s the one composed of your own sighing
and giving up. What you’ve been doing
is not devotion. Your hoping and worrying
are like donkeys wandering loose,
sometimes docile, or suddenly mean.
Your face looks wise at times,
and ashamed at others.
There is another way, a pure blankness
where those are one expression.
Omar once saw a group of boys on the road
challenging each other to wrestle.
They were all claiming to be champions,
but when Omar, the fierce and accomplished
warrior, came near, they scattered.
All but one, Abdullah Zubair.
Omar asked, “Why didn’t you run?”
“Why should I? You are not a tyrant,
and I am not guilty.”
When someone knows his own inner value,
he doesn’t care about being accepted
or rejected by anyone else.
The prince here is strong and just.
Stand wondering in his presence.
There is nothing but That.
— from The Hand of Poetry: Five Mystic Poets of Persia, with Lectures by Inayat Khan, Translated by Coleman Barks
/ Photo by ewan traveler /
Ivan re-emerges…
It is fascinating to me how my worst bouts of fatigue and illness seem to coincide with world trauma and political upheaval. Since Sunday I’ve been essentially bedridden. I’ve only started to come out of it as of last night.
Then I turn on the news and discover how the terrible wound in Gaza has been re-opened with so much suffering. The repercussions of these events are worse than the immediate devastation and personal tragedies being shown (or not being shown) on the news.
A good time to send healing prayers to the region — along with a firm application of political and social pressure to insist on restraint.
The cruelties of the world can make one feel naked in the bee-house, entirely vulnerable, revealing the illusions of our “strength.”
There are so many delightful lines and images in this poem, but today I thought I’d focus on a short section that is not the most transfixing on a poetic level, but one that I keep returning to…
If you can take care of things, do so!
But when you’re living at home with God,
you neither sew the world together
with desires nor tear it apart
with disappointments.
That first statement — “If you can take care of things, do so!” — immediately negates the temptation to interpret the poet’s words as a justification for passivity. We are given bodies for one purpose: to interact in a world of action. We are not disconnected spectators. As body dwellers, we are inherently beings of action, and being interconnected we act with each other and for each other.
But the intensity of action and the world perceived by the senses can confuse us, leading us to imagine that reality is somehow held together by our actions and injured by our failures. This belief leads to inflation of ego in success, and a crippling psychic burden when success evades us.
And then we get caught in the cycle of taking only actions we think will succeed and avoiding all others. Our actions grow smaller, safer, more predictable. We all feel this gravitational pressure to some extent.
But– when we remember that we are first and foremost beings with vast interior spaces, beings of awareness and intention, we break that ever tightening cycle. We step free from the idea of a mechanical world of action and reaction, action graded with a pass or fail. Instead, we understand action as a form of ritual. We begin to see action as enaction. Action flows outward from those great interior halls of the heart. Action becomes expression.
Yes, we still strive to take effective action, we measure the results and improve future actions, but we are not enthralled by those results. We take action simply because it is our nature to act. And we act because the awakening heart prompts us to act. The results are left to that greater Reality. Freed from “results” and “success,” we can then act in ways that are right for the simple reason that it is right.
Right action heals in ways that even “success” cannot always match.
In Hinduism, this might be called Karma Yoga. I prefer not to call it anything. It is simply the nature of being in the world.
This is where we stand wondering…
Have a beautiful day, inside and out.
And if you celebrate Thanksgiving, may it be a special day.
|
Hakim Sanai
Afghanistan (1044? – 1150?) Timeline |
Nov 16 2012
Behind the Scenes of the Poetry Chaikhana
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.
~ Rumi
Do you wonder what my work with the Poetry Chaikhana looks like?
I often start my morning off with a meditation, and then I see which poem seems eager to speak that day. I let my computer suggest a poem at random, and then I try to sense if the poem is “right” for the day. Some mornings I select the first poem that comes up. Other days I’ll spend an hour sorting through possibilities. I try to make sure I have a good balance of spiritual traditions represented over the month. I also make a point of including women’s voices regularly. Occasionally I look for a series of poems that follow a sacred theme or metaphor.
Once I’ve selected the daily poem, I often spend a little time researching the life of the poet so I can pass along a few notes with the poem.
Then I sit with the poem, contemplate it, speak it aloud, let it dance in my mind, and I watch the ideas rise for my commentary. Occasionally I slip back into meditation and when I emerge the commentary is just waiting to be written out.
Some mornings I feel I’ve said too much in recent commentaries, and I just send the poem with a short, friendly note. And sometimes I come across a poem with a comment I wrote a couple of years ago, and I think, “I have to share that with everyone again!”
Then I spend a while searching through photos and art among the Flickr or Deviantart “Creative Commons” libraries and look for one that somehow expresses an image or feeling from the poem.
I select a “Thought for the Day” from among the many I’ve written over the years, and I find a music CD.
Then I update the Poetry Chaikhana home page and post the poem and commentary to the Poetry Chaikhana blog. I spend a while adding new sign-ups and removing cancellations from the email list. Finally, I format everything and send out the poem email.
The Poetry Chaikhana poem email now goes out to nearly 10,000 people! It takes my computer more than 4 hours to send the poem email out each day.
Most days I also select a short poem or excerpt to post on the Poetry Chaikhana Facebook page. Sometimes two posts. I often post accompanying artwork, as well. We’ve got another 3,500 fans there.
I spend time each month looking for new voices of wisdom in books and on the Internet. I try to add new poems and poets regularly. I’ve become quite a speedy typist!
Some weeks I also have to spend time maintaining and troubleshooting the Poetry Chaikhana database and website. Occasionally, I have to wrangle with spam-blocker sites to convince them that the Poetry Chaikhana emails are not spam.
I get dozens of emails each week, sometimes hundreds — which I love! I read every email and, when I can, I send responses.
…And then I start my day job. Whew!
Poetry and Personal Transformation
We forget how fundamental poetry is, not only to culture, but to consciousness. Poetry is meditation in the form of words. I posted this on the Poetry Chaikhana website years ago, and it’s just as true today:
“Poetry has an immediate effect on the mind. The simple act of reading poetry alters thought patterns and the shuttle of the breath. Poetry induces trance. Its words are chant. Its rhythms are drumbeats. Its images become the icons of the inner eye. Poetry is more than a description of the sacred experience; it carries the experience itself.”
The Politics of Poetry
In addition to the spiritual importance of this sacred poetry, there is also a cultural, even a political motivation behind the Poetry Chaikhana. Here’s how I described it in a interview a few years ago:
“Sacred poetry has the unique benefit of being a deeply personal expression of spiritual truth while, at the same time, being largely free from dogma. In the United States, for example, there is an increasing prejudice and fear about the Muslim world. But who can read Jelaluddin Rumi without immediately recognizing the deep truth that Islam can express? The same is true for a non-Hindu reading Lal Ded or a non-Christian reading St. John of the Cross. Sacred poetry is the natural goodwill ambassador for the world’s religions. Poetry can reach across cultural divides, soften prejudices, and shed light on misunderstandings. I hope the Poetry Chaikhana can help to facilitate that process.”
Sacred poetry is transformative on both a personal and a global level.
The Poetry Chaikhana has become a community that reaches across the globe. We have visitors from every continent and more than 220 countries and territories! (See Poetry Chaikhana Around the World.)
The Poetry Chaikhana is an important resource for people all over the world seeking to more deeply understand their own wisdom traditions as well as the spirituality of other cultures in an atmosphere of mutual respect.
/ Photo by woodleywonderworks /
Your Support as a Community
It is still a struggle to find a workable balance in time and money to bring you the Poetry Chaikhana on a regular basis. I support myself and my family by working part-time as a computer programmer. My computer work is flexible enough to allow me to spend a lot of time with the Poetry Chaikhana, but that also means it’s flexible enough to allow me to earn very little income
To continue this work, the Poetry Chaikhana needs community support.
If you feel a connection to the Poetry Chaikhana, please consider making a donation.
(I want to be clear, though, that I am not asking you to contribute more than you can comfortably afford. Even a small amount – from many people – is immensely helpful. Many contributions from many people makes the Poetry Chaikhana a stronger community project, maintained by many helping hands.)
Ways you can contribute:
- You can send a check or money order in US funds made out to “Poetry Chaikhana”, addressed to:
Poetry Chaikhana
PO Box 2320
Boulder, CO 80306 - You can make a secure online donation in any amount through PayPal by clicking the “Donate” button on the Poetry Chaikhana home page – http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com
- You can sign up for a voluntary subscription of $2/month or $10/month by clicking either the “Subscribe” or “Support” PayPal button, also at http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com. (A regular monthly amount is often easier on your pocketbook and allows the Poetry Chaikhana to plan finances over the long term.)
Many of you have been generous with your contributions to the Poetry Chaikhana in the past, through donations, through notes of thanks, through supportive thoughts and prayers. Every contribution, whether financial or energetic, is sincerely appreciated.
A warm thank you to everyone!
Ivan
Nov 14 2012
whittle
Whittle yourself down
to the question at your core.
Let that empty ache
lead you to ecstasy!
Nov 14 2012
Mary Oliver – When Death Comes
When Death Comes
by Mary Oliver
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom; taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
— from New and Selected Poems, by Mary Oliver
/ Photo by AlicePopkorn /
Last week, when I asked for your favorite poems featured in the Poetry Chaikhana as suggestions for the upcoming anthology, several of you recommended works by Mary Oliver. I’d love to include several of her poems, but I think it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to get her publisher’s reprint permissions. So, for now, we’ll just have to appreciate her poetry all the more in these poem emails (and, of course, in her books).
We recently had another eclipse. It’s been a difficult time for many of us, uncertainty, fears, changes. Death keeps coming up, both literal and metaphorical.
When I came across this poem, I thought it was a perfect choice…
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn>/i>
It is a meditation on death, but it isn’t really a poem that dwells on fear or loss. Instead, Mary Oliver uses death as a way to be present, to see, and to open to the big questions.
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
I love the lines–
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood
The words are simple, but she gives us a vision in which all of existence is an interwoven tapestry. Without grand images, she suggests a communion of all things where every experience is recognized as a shared experience. Even crossing the threshold of death becomes part of that brotherhood and sisterhood of being.
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
These are words that make me giddy… and silent. These two lines are, for me, the heart of the entire poem. “Each name” is each individual person or thing, each unit of unique, life-filled identity. They have become “comfortable” and “music,” a sense of restful, meaningful harmony. Yet with all the vitality and IS-ness suggested by a name, they all tend to subside into silence. This is both a suggestion of death and also profound meditation or communion. Sidestepping all fearful projections, death has become a restful expansion, the embodiment of peace, fulfillment.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom; taking the world into my arms.
Now there’s a good motto to live by! Satisfaction at the time of death isn’t about bucket lists or bank accounts. It’s not found through having possessed things or even experiences, nor by engineering impressive accomplishments. I suspect, along with Mary Oliver, that real contentment is found at the end of a life when we can say that we felt our lives, that we saw it with our full attention, embraced it, so that everything, the great and the terrible and all the mundane in between, revealed itself to be worthy of wonder.
The goal isn’t to have had a perfect life but to have participated in life — with eyes and heart open.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
Have a beautiful day! Participate in it fully!
|
Mary Oliver
US (1935 – ) |