Archive for the 'Ivan’s Story' Category

Apr 18 2025

Chinook – Teach us, and show us the Way

Published by under Ivan's Story,Poetry

Teach us, and show us the Way
by Chinook (Anonymous)

We call upon the earth, our planet home, with its beautiful depths and soaring
heights, its vitality and abundance of life, and together we ask that it

Teach us, and show us the Way.

We call upon the mountains, the Cascades and the Olympics, the high green
valleys and meadows filled with wild flowers, the snows that never melt, the
summits of intense silence, and we ask that they

Teach us, and show us the Way.

We call upon the waters that rim the earth, horizon to horizon, that flow in our
rivers and streams, that fall upon our gardens and fields and we ask that they

Teach us, and show us the Way.

We call upon the land which grows our food, the nurturing soil, the fertile fields,
the abundant gardens and orchards, and we ask that they

Teach us, and show us the Way.

We call upon the forests, the great trees reaching strongly to the sky with earth in
their roots and the heavens in their branches, the fir and the pine and the
cedar, and we ask them to

Teach us, and show us the Way.

We call upon the creatures of the fields and forests and the seas, our brothers and
sisters the wolves and deer, the eagle and dove, the great whales and the dolphin,
the beautiful Orca and salmon who share our Northwest home, and we ask them to

Teach us, and show us the Way.

We call upon all those who have lived on this earth, our ancestors and our friends,
who dreamed the best for future generations, and upon whose lives our lives are
built, and with thanksgiving, we call upon them to

Teach us, and show us the Way.

And lastly, we call upon all that we hold most sacred, the presence and power of
the Great Spirit of love and truth which flows through all the Universe, to be with
us to

Teach us, and show us the Way.

— from The Essential Mystics: Selections from the World’s Great Wisdom Traditions, Edited by Andrew Harvey


/ Image by Oppo Find x5 Pro /

I have been engaged in quite an act of rebellion lately: I have been gardening.

Just a small garden, a few vegetables and flowers.

And I’ll be honest, gardening doesn’t come naturally to me. I was raised in small apartments by a single mother who was often at work. Gardening wasn’t an activity handed down to me. I tend to be more of a person of fire and air than of earth. So rolling up my sleeves and digging in the dirt is not always my first instinct in the springtime.

But the gardeners among you know what I am still learning, that the earth speaks to us through the garden. It becomes a conversation. I speak to the weeds as I pull them, thanking them for the green impulse they brought and apologizing for their removal. Words of welcome and gentle encouragement to the strawberries and marigolds as I pat them into place and pour water around them.

Earth and water. Air and sun. And growing green life. These bring the soul back to rest.

While gardening is often a solitary, meditative act, I am surprised by how often it brings me back into connection with my community. As an inexperienced gardener, I bring my questions to the woman across the street whose yard is filled with tulips and daffodils and green sprouts waiting to reveal themselves. And we are talking about life. The rhythms of the year and the movements of the clouds.

Later in the year, I hope to have a few extra butternut squash, Perhaps my wife and I can share them with our neighbor (as I know she will come by with more than one box of potatoes and tomatoes for us). Or maybe I will bring something from my garden over to my cousin’s house. Next year, if I plan early enough for a larger garden, perhaps I will have extra to bring to one of the local homeless shelters.

Who knew that putting your knees on the ground and digging your fingers into the soil could reconnect us with the world? It brings us back into the rhythms of life and community. It returns us to ourselves.

Some might say that is a dangerous thing.

Others would say, community, the earth, life, these speak to us. They remind us of important truths. Let’s listen. Let us ask them to teach us, and show us the Way.


Recommended Books: Chinook (Anonymous)

The Essential Mystics: Selections from the World’s Great Wisdom Traditions


Chinook (Anonymous)

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

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Mar 07 2025

Dorothy Walters – Once More Turn Me to Gold

Published by under Ivan's Story,Poetry

Once More Turn Me to Gold
by Dorothy Walters

(for Kabir)

Every cell,
each bone and covering.
Let me shine
like a golden coin
spinning in the summer sun,
a yellow leaf
that falls to earth
in early autumn, late spring.
Let me be a beacon for all
yearning to pass this way,
to become pure,
like the alchemist’s dream,
the cabalist’s desire.
Let me be dipped
in liquid gold,
now luminous,
radiant as the sun,
complete at last.

— from The Goddess Speaks: Poems of Ecstasy and Transformation, by Dorothy Walters


/ Image by Chu Son /

I have been thinking about Dorothy Walters recently. She was a close friend for many years. We met initially through our parallel work, both of us in different ways being early explorers of poetry and spirituality on the Internet. She published a blog of her poetry and Kundalini experiences while, at the same time, quietly connecting one-on-one with those who reached out to her, seeking to better understand their own private spiritual experiences. She soon came across my work with the Poetry Chaikhana and emailed me, beginning a correspondence.

At the time, she lived in San Francisco, but she had strong ties to Boulder, Colorado, where I lived. She had been a professor at the University of Colorado for many years before retirement, and she decided to return to the area. This serendipitous move allowed us to become closer friends.

My wife and I would regularly meet Dorothy on a Sunday morning and go out to brunch together. We had wonderful, far ranging conversations that returned again and again to the spiritual journey, seasoned with plenty of laughter. It was always a treat to meet with this sweet, elderly woman who often wore a knitted cap, eyeglasses with Chinese characters engraved around the rims, and draped herself in wild colors.

I wonder how many people in Boulder knew what a treasure they had shuffling around the downtown, occasionally popping into discussions on lucid dreaming or poetry readings.

In her final years, a wonderful, dedicated group of people worked together to make sure that her few basic necessities and health care were taken care of. She passed away in 2023, well into her nineties.

For many, she was seen as a spiritual teacher. There were times when I saw her that way too, but more as an inspiration, a template of how to be an elder in the world — quiet, yet active, unconventional, playful, caring, engaged, always touching people’s lives for the better. As I begin to enter my elder years, I hope to embody my own version of those uplifting energies she brought to those around her.

Mostly, however, I thought of Dorothy Walters as a friend, a friend who still sometimes shows up to whisper in my ear.


Recommended Books: Dorothy Walters

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) This Dance of Bliss: Ecstatic Poetry from Around the World Marrow of Flame : Poems of the Spiritual Journey The Ley Lines of the Soul: Poems of Ecstasy and Ascension Diamond Cutters: Visionary Poets in America, Britain & Oceania
More Books >>


Dorothy Walters, Dorothy Walters poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Dorothy Walters

US (1928 – 2023) Timeline
Secular or Eclectic

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Feb 28 2025

Kalidas (Lawrence Edwards) – Take Refuge in Silence

Published by under Ivan's Story,Poetry

Take Refuge in Silence
by Kalidas (Lawrence Edwards)

All sound arises out of Silence
      and dissolves into Silence.
All thought arises out of Silence
      and dissolves into Silence.
The universe arises out of Silence
      and dissolves into Silence.
Suffering arises out of Silence
      and dissolves into Silence.
The unbounded spaciousness of Silence,
      filled with the clear light of Awareness,
      dissolves the roots of pain and sorrow.
Take refuge in Silence and know
      unshakable joy.


/ Image by Cristopher Sardegna /

Life has been very full for me in recent years. Several significant life challenges, the sort that feel like life and death in the moment. Adding to that, financial responsibilities have made it necessary for me to keep high work hours in my day job through it all. I had hoped, following my move to Oregon a couple of years ago, to connect more to the local poetry and spiritual communities and also to publish more books for the Poetry Chaikhana. But it was not to be as simple as that.

I have been reconnecting with the Divine Feminine lately, and the Mother can be comforting, nurturing, abundant, but at the same time She sometimes says, “You’ve got some work to do so get to it! Let that be your worship for now.”

Learning to strategically walk the cliff’s edge of action and exhaustion, refining that skill, that too is a form of worship, when dedicated to the needs of others.

Breathing hard can be a sign we are on our path. A well-walked journey sometimes requires us our all, and then some. It is often in those moments of total dedication that we find the greatest opening and spaciousness. When the activity in our lives overwhelms and we are not quite keeping up, we might just shift our perspective and recognize that we are not that activity, that we are not even the person engaged in the activity. And then it becomes a dance.

Having said all that, this song of Silence speaks to me. Everything emerges from a great Silence, an eternal Stillness. And returns again. This is not speculation, it can be directly experienced. This is the unbounded spaciousness. We say silence or stillness or spaciousness or Nirvana, but it is not empty in the way we think of the term. It is empty of “thingness” but this underlying Reality is, in fact, full. This divine Silence is rich with life, the source of all life. It is filled with awareness. When we return to that state, we are flooded with an unshakable joy. We might call it the healing embrace of the Divine Mother.

It is in this Silence that balance is restored and we rediscover our true nature.

Whether your life is noisy or quiet, may we all find time to restore ourselves in Silence.

Sending love! Have a beautiful day!


Recommended Books: Kalidas (Lawrence Edwards)

Kali’s Bazaar: Gifts of Devotion to the Divine, Buddhist Wisdom, and Kundalini Yoga Tantra The Soul’s Journey: Guidance from the Divine Within Kundalini Rising: Exploring the Energy of Awakening


Kalidas (Lawrence Edwards), Kalidas (Lawrence Edwards) poetry, Yoga / Hindu poetry Kalidas (Lawrence Edwards)

US (1952 – )
Yoga / Hindu : Shakta (Goddess-oriented)
Secular or Eclectic

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Apr 12 2024

Ivan M. Granger – First dawn

First dawn
by Ivan M. Granger

First dawn. Even the
birds in the tallest pines are
surprised by the sun.

— from Real Thirst: Poetry of the Spiritual Journey, by Ivan M. Granger


/ Image by Evgeni Dinev /

I have been enjoying the spring mornings here in Eugene, Oregon. Some mornings there is a light rain falling, the world is sleepy and self-enclosed, then on other days we get morning sunshine, everything glistens and awakens to a sense of celebration. Sometimes before we begin work, my wife and I will go to a local coffee shop. I’ll get a warm cup of tea. We read and chat, listening to the hum of the community, people talking in hushed tones, the life of our small city recognizing itself. Such moments are nourishing to the soul.

I am especially appreciative of all this because of a few milestones in my life. Last week I had my birthday. I turned 55. The number feels foreign to me. It’s as if time stopped when I was 35. I haven’t really aged. My hair has just gotten grayer. Can anyone else relate to that feeling?

The other milestone: I was just honored at my work for 30 years of employment. For someone who has moved around the country and, because of health issues, has not always been able to work full time hours in the week, I am amazed — and grateful — to have found early on an employer who has been stable and adaptable and accepting. Wherever I’ve lived and whatever my work rhythms, they were always there, so I never felt the need to move on.

The renewal of springtime and these experiences invite me to reflect back on the year and a half since my wife and I moved back to Eugene. We have had so many wonderful moments returning to our childhood hometown, but the year following our move was also quite challenging. At the beginning of last year my wife was hospitalized and kept in the ICU for several days following a severe asthma attack. As she recovered, we were able to get her on new medication, and the change has been profound. It was a year of difficult finances, requiring me to put as many hours as possible into my day job. At times I felt badly, as if I have been neglecting you, the Poetry Chaikhana community, as a result. I hope to be able to do more with the Poetry Chaikhana in the future.

We never really control the circumstances of our lives. We make plans, formulate expectations, and try to build the daily structures of our lives that will lead to those outcomes — but then life plays out as it will. That regular, steady, structural process has not been my strongest suit, though I have gotten better at it in those timeless twenty years from 35 to 55. Where I have found strength, however, is in the ability to ride the flow of life, even when the details have gotten messy.

I look outside the window. It’s a cloudy morning. The ground is still damp with last night’s rainfall. But the birds are cautiously emerging and sharing their song. We have the promise of a beautiful day. That’s when our work begins, amidst the requirements of life, to discover for ourselves the beauty waiting for us.


Recommended Books: Ivan M. Granger

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) This Dance of Bliss: Ecstatic Poetry from Around the World Real Thirst: Poetry of the Spiritual Journey For Lovers of God Everywhere: Poems of the Christian Mystics Diamond Cutters: Visionary Poets in America, Britain & Oceania
More Books >>


Ivan M. Granger, Ivan M. Granger poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Ivan M. Granger

US (1969 – )
Secular or Eclectic
Yoga / Hindu : Advaita / Non-Dualist

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Dec 22 2023

Teresa of Avila (attributed) – You are Christ’s Hands

Published by under Ivan's Story,Poetry

You are Christ’s Hands
by Teresa of Avila

Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
      no hands but yours,
      no feet but yours,
Yours are the eyes through which to look out
      Christ’s compassion to the world
Yours are the feet with which he is to go about
      doing good;
Yours are the hands with which he is to bless men now.

— from The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology), Edited by Ivan M. Granger


/ Image by Jackson David /

It is the Solstice and Christmas is just a few days away. It will be a modest one for myself and my wife this year, but one with a lot of gratitude. We recently moved, still within our hometown of Eugene, Oregon. Because previously we had been renting a furnished place and our new home is not pre-furnished, we had to scramble to buy the basics so we weren’t living in an empty house. Also, amidst the grief over the loss of our beloved family dog of many years, Apollo, we adopted a new dog, Bowie, through a local rescue organization. So, rather than exchange a lot of gifts this year, my wife and I decided to make a list of all the gifts we have received or given to ourselves and our household over the past couple of months — everything from dishes and silverware to a bed. Even without wrapped packages, it feels like an abundant Christmas.

As some of you may recall, soon after we moved back to Eugene a little over a year ago, I was taken aback by the homeless population here. Frankly, homelessness had not seemed like such a prominent issue where we previously lived in Colorado. But not only here in Eugene, we are discovering that America’s homeless population is rapidly growing in many cities.

My wife and I have been trying to find ways to help or, at a minimum, not turn our hearts away. Of course we offer a few dollars during street encounters, when we have the cash, and when the situation feels safe. And we contribute to some local groups that work with the homeless and the hungry in the area. I know I can do more, though remaining in balance, both with health and other life commitments, is always a challenge.

I feel a tug-of-war that plays out in me. There is the Aries part of my personality that is a natural activist, that part of me that wants to go out and fix things, that wants to make the world a better place, to help the world recognize what a beautiful place it can be and should be. It’s that part of me that wants to do (and sometimes wants to force). And then there is an inner part of me that whispers, “Don’t do. Flow. In that way the small actions born naturally from your heart, actions that hardly feel like actions, will resonate in the world.”

Is there such a thing as being an actionless activist?

I am still figuring that one out.

=

While this poem is popularly attributed to St. Teresa of Avila, it is not among her officially recognized works. Scholars tell us that it was probably actually written in the late 19th century by Guy Pearse, a Methodist minister, and Sarah Eliza Rowntree, an English Quaker.

Regardless of the actual composer, this is one of my favorite prayer-poems. It is a prayer of supreme spiritual maturity. It is not someone imploring Christ to come and fix everything in the external way imagined by so many fundamentalist sects; rather, it recognizes the presence of the Divine within each of us and our sacred responsibility to embody that compassion and service within the world. Each one of us is the vehicle through which Christ (or Ishwara or the Buddha) enacts blessings in the world. Our job is to let that sacred current flow through us unhindered.

Yours are the hands with which he is to bless men now…

May we each find ways to uncoil ourselves and allow the divine flow of compassion to run unhindered through our hearts and our hands.


Recommended Books: Teresa of Avila

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty For Lovers of God Everywhere: Poems of the Christian Mystics All Saints: Daily Reflections on Saints, Prophets, and Witnesses for Our Time
More Books >>


Teresa of Avila, Teresa of Avila poetry, Christian poetry Teresa of Avila

Spain (1515 – 1582) Timeline
Christian : Catholic

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Nov 10 2023

Jay Ramsay – I saw a great light come down over London

Published by under Ivan's Story,Poetry

I saw a great light come down over London
by Jay Ramsay

I saw a great light come down over London,
And buildings and cars and people were still
They were held wherever they were under the sky’s
Clear humming radiance as it descended —
Everywhere, in shops, behind desks and on trains
Everything stopped as the stillness came down
And touched the crown of our heads
As our eyes closed, and the sky filled us
And our minds became the sky —
And everyone, regardless of crime class or creed
Was touched; as slowly we began to stir
Out of this penetrated light-filled sleep
Dizzily as the hand completed its dialing,
And the train lurched forward
And I saw faces looking at one another questioning,
I saw people meeting eye to eye and standing
Half amazed by each other’s presence
I saw their mouths silently shaping the word why
Why didn’t we know this? and yet knowing
They already knew, and without words
We all stood searching for the gesture
That would say it —

As the lights went green, and we drove on.

— from The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology), Edited by Ivan M. Granger


/ Image by Chad Walton /

I only recently discovered that Jay Ramsay died a few years ago. Though I never met him in person, there was a period when we conversed via email. He was warm-hearted and brought an infectious enthusiasm to his poetic endeavors. In hindsight, I suspect that he knew his time on this earth was limited and he wanted to do what good he could in the time he had. A good reminder to us all. We may not all know our departure date, but we are visitors, not permanent residents. Best to stop distracting ourselves and do what we came here to do. Offer a helping hand. Share a smile. Do what the soul always wanted to do. And discover the secret heart of things.

=

I was a poor child, but raised in an affluent area of Southern California. Several of my friends lived in large houses, with manicured lawns, some with swimming pools in their back yards. My friends had two parents, while I was raised by a single mother. They had family dinner times, Sunday church or Saturday temple, went on family vacations together.

They were living the “normal” life, the American upper middle-class ideal. And I had a strange relationship with their world — I craved its stability, the things and experiences my friends had that I didn’t, but their normalcy was also foreign to me, even a bit eerie. It just didn’t seem real to me somehow. In some ways I wanted it, but I didn’t want to be snared by it.

By the time I was a teenager, I became obsessed with seeing through the facades of that “normal” reality. I wanted to know what secrets were hidden away in the overlooked shadows. I became interested in everything from meditation to history to science to linguistics — all ways of trying to understand the hidden meaning behind the world that everyone takes for granted.

…And I was also fascinated by the phenomenon of UFOs.

I think that’s one of the things I really like about this poem — it can be read as a collective moment of awe, or of spiritual awakening, but it can just as easily suggest a city-wide encounter with a UFO. That’s the first thing I think of reading this poem. It’s not really clear what is happening, just that there is a shared moment of stillness and wonderment. Everyone stops and is confronted with a dazzling, otherworldly reality. What’s actually happening seems less important than the shared experience. Not only is this a witnessing of something that transcends the day-to-day existence, but there is also a recognition of fundamental connection with everyone else. To me it is almost the opposite of a terrorist event; instead of tragedy, everyone comes together in a unifying moment of bliss and amazement.

Then, of course, the lights turn green, and the business of living continues. But perhaps those people carry with them just a bit more sacred wonder into their daily activities… and who knows the many subtle, far-reaching ways it will continue to radiate out through their lives? This is how private experiences of transformation — otherworldy or of the inner world — quietly transform the world.


Recommended Books: Jay Ramsay

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) Diamond Cutters: Visionary Poets in America, Britain & Oceania Places of Truth: Journeys into Sacred Wilderness Out of Time Kingdom of the Edge: Poems for the Spirit
More Books >>


Jay Ramsay, Jay Ramsay poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Jay Ramsay

England (1959 – 2019) Timeline
Secular or Eclectic

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Oct 20 2023

Rainer Maria Rilke – A Walk

Published by under Ivan's Story,Poetry

A Walk
by Rainer Maria Rilke

English version by Robert Bly

My eyes already touch the sunny hill,
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has its inner light, even from a distance–

and changes us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on,
answering our own wave…
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

— from Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, Translated by Robert Bly


/ Image by Michael Cummins /

Where has the Poetry Chaikhana been for the past several weeks? First of all, let me reassure everyone that I am okay. But things have been up in my life. We went through a move recently — local this time, still in the Eugene area, but a major effort, especially while I was trying to maintain my work hours with my day job as a computer programmer. Then, Apollo, our beloved dog of many years passed away unexpectedly. He was an important part of our family and we have been grieving his loss. And, of course, I have been paying attention to the terrible situation in Israel/Palestine. I have been balancing a lot while trying to remain open-hearted and an avenue for compassion, both in my family and in the world.

But you, the Poetry Chaikhana community, are my extended family, and I have missed our shared time together. I am so glad to be back with you!

Let’s take a walk with Rilke today…

=

My eyes already touch the sunny hill,
going far ahead of the road I have begun.

This is a fascinating truth that we tend to forget in the hard materiality of the modern world-view: We do not only touch the things with which we come into physical contact. We are often just as profoundly affected by what we see, even when it is out of our reach or not yet within our reach in the physical sense. Sight is a form of touch. It is contact. We touch, and are touched by, what we see.

Rilke’s insight invites us to expand our understanding further still. If what we see with our eyes is a vital sort of contact, then, naturally, what we see, but not with our eyes is just as vital. What we imagine, what we daydream, what we plan, what comes to us in dreams and meditative vision, these touch us too. They affect us. We react to them. They nurture us, feed us, or they may unsettle us and break our hearts.

So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has its inner light, even from a distance–

Real touch is not about fingertips on skin or hard metal. Real touch is heart to heart, mind to mind. Real touch is a process within the awareness, not about flat matter encountering more matter.

What we seek is never what we seek, but the affect it has on us. With everything we pursue in life, what we actually seek is self-transformation. But the truth is that we don’t even need that external other thing, physical or imagined, to be changed. The transformed self is already within us, just awaiting our own permission to be that. That is why Rilke says–

and changes us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are…

Whether we yearn for a beloved person or place or circumstance, that encounter always awaits us within.

a gesture waves us on,
answering our own wave…
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

We can read his final lines as suggesting something about the ephemeral nature of reality, or it can be the dawning recognition that we are continuously receiving communication, encouragement, contact. We have just been missing it because of our fixed ideas about what we seek and what is real.

Sending love to you all…


Recommended Books: Rainer Maria Rilke

The Enlightened Heart: An Anthology of Sacred Poetry Ahead of All Parting: The Selected Poetry and Prose of Rainer Maria Rilke The Soul is Here for its Own Joy: Sacred Poems from Many Cultures Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God In Praise of Mortality: Rilke’s Duino Elegies & Sonnets to Orpheus
More Books >>


Rainer Maria Rilke, Rainer Maria Rilke poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Rainer Maria Rilke

Germany (1875 – 1926) Timeline
Secular or Eclectic

More poetry by Rainer Maria Rilke

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Jul 21 2023

A note from Ivan

I feel like some aspects of the Poetry Chaikhana have been somewhat neglected in recent months. I have, for example, received several touching notes lately from different readers saying how much the Poetry Chaikhana means to you, but I haven’t been able to respond to them all. I want you to know that I receive all of your messages and they mean a lot to me.

I have also had plans for additional books, but I haven’t been able to dedicate the time to complete and publish them. I would even like to experiment with some online workshops or discussion groups.

I am in a phase right now where daily life requires me to put in as many hours as possible with my day job, while these other projects have to wait patiently. I want you all to know that you — and the Poetry Chaikhana in general — are very much in my mind still. When life allows, I very much look forward to some new creative endeavors and just connecting with you all more.

Be well and keep finding those quiet moments of inspiration that feed your soul — and have a beautiful day!

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May 26 2023

Gabriel Rosenstock – a star

a star
by Gabriel Rosenstock

a star
a tree
and the longing in between

réalta
crann
is an tnúthán eatarthu

— from The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology), Edited by Ivan M. Granger


/ Image by AlicePopkorn /

Yesterday I was a guest on Dr. Laurel Trujillo’s podcast The Yoga Hour. We had a delightful, far reaching conversation on sacred poetry, healing, the importance of inspiration to feed the spirit… and the path of longing.

We started our conversation off with this poem by Gabriel Rosenstock, so naturally I decided to share it with all of you.

Without even formulating a complete sentence, Irish poet Gabriel Rosenstock gives us the whole spiritual endeavor—rootedness and aspiration, life, light, a terrible void, and the aching heart that impels us onward.

If longing poses the question, then union is the answer.

This vibrant tension between longing and union reminds me of a story told by the 10th century Persian Sufi master Junayd. When asked why spiritually realized masters weep, he responded by telling of two brothers who had been apart for years. Upon their reunion, they embraced and were filled with tears. The first brother declared, “What longing!” to which the second brother replied, “What joy!” Longing and fulfillment, the one is not separate from the other.

We think of longing as a state of lack. There is something or someone we want in our lives, but it is not there. Longing can feel hopeless. But longing is really a spectrum. That ache, that longing pulsates on one end, while union, wholeness, and completion eternally await on the other. It’s not that they’re separate, longing and union; they are connected. The one naturally flows into the other. Longing is not the lack of union; longing leads to union. Longing is an aspect of union. Longing is a landscape we learn and explore as part of the spiritual journey. As seekers we traverse that space between longing and union, becoming its student.

The mystic maps the territory between the soul and God, between lover and Beloved, between the little self and the true Self, between the transitory and the Eternal. The road connecting these is the road of longing. Mysticism is the science of longing.

Star and tree, longing fills their dreams, but they awaken touching.

=

Ivan Interview on The Yoga Hour

If you want to listen my discussion of sacred poetry on The Yoga Hour podcast, you can find it here:
https://www.theyogahour.com/episodes/sacred-poetry-insight-and-inspiration


Recommended Books: Gabriel Rosenstock

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) Haiku Enlightenment: New Expanded Edition Bliain an Bhandé – Year of the Goddess Uttering Her Name Where Light Begins: Haiku
More Books >>


Gabriel Rosenstock, Gabriel Rosenstock poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Gabriel Rosenstock

Ireland (1949 – )
Secular or Eclectic
Primal/Tribal/Shamanic : Celtic

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May 26 2023

Ivan Interview on The Yoga Hour

Yesterday I was a guest on Dr. Laurel Trujillo’s podcast The Yoga Hour. We had a delightful, far reaching conversation on sacred poetry, healing, the importance of inspiration to feed the spirit… and the path of longing.

The Yoga Hour
https://www.theyogahour.com/episodes/sacred-poetry-insight-and-inspiration

0:00 Introduction
– Introduction to Ivan
– Short meditation by the host
6:15 Poem: a star, a tree…
7:40 The Longing in Between
– The path of longing
– spectrum between longing and union
10:42 continues
12:30 Poetry and prose
16:22 Poem: Navajo Prayer
– restored in beauty
– healing and wholeness
– bridge or meeting point between earth and heaven
22:20 How to form a relationship with a poem
– Poem as participation in the breath and consciousness of poet
29:25 Poem by Yogacharya O’Brien: OM
32:53 What does “chaikhana” mean?
– Teahouses along the Silk Road
– Connection of East and West
– Sufi story of Tea as the drink of initiates
36:10 Mystics
– The word “mystic” preferred to words like, saint or sage
– Free from cultural baggage
– Avoids dogma
– Someone who seeks the living truth, not just following rules
40:17 Poem: Last night as I was sleeping…
43:34 Metaphor and describing the indescribable
– Mundane awareness can work with simile
– Expanded awareness witness union, the interconnectedness of things
– Real metaphor emerges from this realization
– This is what sacred poetry emerges from
46:27 Poem by Yogacharya O’Brien: Satsanga
48:02 Through poetry the illuminated state becomes contagious…
– How poetry conveys the sacred experience
52:30 Poem: One Thread Only
53:07 Inspiration is essential food for the spirit

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Feb 17 2023

Dorothy Walters – The Abundance of Brightness

The Abundance of Brightness
by Dorothy Walters

      God is not unknown on account of obscurity
      but on account of the abundance of brightness.
            — St. Thomas Aquinas

1.
Dante Mounting to the Rose of Heaven

Not one of us
could breathe this air,
face this naked radiance
unscathed.
Here music turns to light,
a tone so sweet
that we, dulled by
our familiar calliope,
mistake its sound for silence.

Dante, mounting to tiers of
trembling flame,
found light. Light everywhere.
Circles, wheels,
light on light,
a dance of invisibles.
The flames pulsating, as if
measuring the breath of heaven.
At the last, he falls forward,
caught in widening rings
of implacable bright.

2.
At Eleusis

Even at Eleusis,
after the long journey,
the sea-bath among the sacred waves,
the accounts of the grieving mother
and her vanished child,
at the end
the shouts rang out
like birth-cries in the throats
of the startled pilgrims, blinded
by the flare of torches sweeping
from frames of darkness.
Then silence. Then they saw.

3.
A Celebration

And then quiet.
Someone who whispers:
now we are free.

Which was, almost,
true,
but only in the way
a bird,
leaving a limb,
goes freely into
a different realm,
an atmosphere
more pure,
more transparent,
but that, too,
maintaining its fixities.

4.
The Clinging

[for those who] have beheld the Tao… gems sparkle on dusty roads; puddles appear as pools of lapis lazuli; tough weeds acquire fragile beauty…
      — John Blofield

The I Ching calls it clinging, fire:
“Fire has no definite form,”
it says,
“but clings to the burning object
and thus is bright.”

— from Marrow of Flame : Poems of the Spiritual Journey, by Dorothy Walters


/ Image by Jackson David /

I found out a few days ago that Dorothy Walters passed away at the beginning of this week. She would have been 95 next month.

Dorothy and I had been good friends for nearly 20 years. She reached out to me over the Internet in the early days of the Poetry Chaikhana, back when I had just put the website up and had begun circulating these poetry emails. At the time, she still lived in San Francisco but, as a retired professor, she had deep ties to where I lived in Boulder, Colorado and its university, and she soon moved back.

We liked to meet for brunch and far-ranging conversations. We also, for awhile, met together with a few others to read and discuss spiritual poetry.

Though a few decades younger than her, I was often in awe of her energy. She attended multiple groups exploring questions of spirituality, psychology, and human awareness. Invariably, everyone was drawn to her small frame and big heart. She contributed essays to a few different books on Kundalini experience, and she spoke several times at different Kundalini conferences. On top of all that, she maintained many rich, personal correspondences with people all over the country and the world who contacted her to discuss their experiences of spiritual and energetic opening.

She has been a special presence in the world — and in my own life. As I enter my elder years, I hope to follow her example of joyful, enthusiastic, and heartfelt service. She continues to be an inspiration.

Thank you, Dorothy!


Recommended Books: Dorothy Walters

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) This Dance of Bliss: Ecstatic Poetry from Around the World Marrow of Flame : Poems of the Spiritual Journey The Ley Lines of the Soul: Poems of Ecstasy and Ascension Diamond Cutters: Visionary Poets in America, Britain & Oceania
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Dorothy Walters, Dorothy Walters poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Dorothy Walters

US (1928 – 2023) Timeline
Secular or Eclectic

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Jan 16 2023

Home from the Hospital, Changes to the Poetry Chaikhana

An eventful couple of weeks. A little over a week ago my wife, Michele, had an acute asthma attack, so severe that we had to call an ambulance in the middle of the night. She spent three days in the ICU and another couple of days in a regular hospital room.

She is back home now, breathing better, but of course still recovering physically and energetically from the ordeal. We are taking everything one step at a time with a sense of gratitude.

Most Americans who have insurance get it through their work, but we are both self-employed, so we are having to make changes to deal with the repercussions and new treatments being recommended for her.

I don’t want to lean on the Poetry Chaikhana community, since everyone was so generous last year in helping us with our big move — for which we are both so grateful.

What that probably means, however, is that these poetry emails may become less frequent for the near future, since I will need to maximize the hours I can put into my day job.

I feel like you are all my neighbors in a wide-reaching neighborhood, and I wanted to let you know what is going on with my family, as well as why the Poetry Chaikhana poem emails may be less frequent for a while. Even if there is a delay between emails, please know that all of your are very much in my thoughts.

Be well. Embrace the wonder of each day. Sending love to you all!

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Dec 12 2022

Mary Oliver – Halleluiah

Halleluiah
by Mary Oliver

Everyone should be born into this world happy
and loving everything.
But in truth it rarely works that way.
For myself, I have spent my life clamoring toward it.
Halleluiah, anyway I’m not where I started!

And have you too been trudging like that, sometimes
almost forgetting how wondrous the world is
and how miraculously kind some people can be?
And have you too decided that probably nothing important
is ever easy?
Not, say, for the first sixty years.

Halleluiah, I’m sixty now, and even a little more,
and some days I feel I have wings.

— from Evidence: Poems, by Mary Oliver


/ Image by disignecologist /

This is a rare Monday poem. It has been a few weeks since my last email, so I wanted to reach out, especially as we move through the winter holidays.

The reason I haven’t sent any emails recently is that I have been juggling a lot to help my wife create a new website for her work. I don’t recall if I’ve mentioned it before, but my wife, Michele Anderson, has been in semi-retirement for the past ten years while she cared for her ailing mother until her death a couple of years ago. My wife’s mother refused most care except for what my wife herself could provide. With few other options, that forced her into the difficult choice of having to put her career of more than 20 years on hold to give her mother the care she needed in the final years of her life.

As those of you who have cared for a sick or dying relative know, few things are more difficult. Being a caregiver is isolating, exhausting, and often unpleasant. The person dying has their own inner struggles reconciling their life and confronting their own mortality, sometimes without mental clarity, which can leave them frightened and angry. Trying to be of service in those moments can be a demanding, all-consuming responsibility. But, through the difficulties and the frequent crises, there can also be profound moments of connection, shared insight, and life resolution.

I am humbled by the strength Michele has shown through this period.

During that difficult time, I helped my wife and her mother in the ways I could. The key contribution I made was that I necessarily became the primary and sometimes sole income provider for our family. Not an easy role for a poet! Not an easy role for someone who deals with chronic fatigue patterns, either. I increased my hours as a computer programmer as much as I could, but the balance has been a struggle. You may not have known it, but your donations and purchase of Poetry Chaikhana books in recent years has been a big help through this period.

As a result of these heightened work requirements, I have not always been as regular as I would like with the Poetry Chaikhana emails. I haven’t been able to maintain and update the website much through this time. I haven’t pursued the publishing projects I would like. I have left too many of your emails to me unanswered. I hope to shift my energies and focus back to the Poetry Chaikhana in the coming months.

After the passing of my wife’s mother, there was naturally a period of grief and recovery. This was during the height of Covid, so the sense of isolation continued. As you know, a few months ago we decided to move from Colorado back to our home state of Oregon. We wanted to reconnect with extended family and also with the land where we feel our roots, where we feel a deep ancestral energy.

Now that we are settling in, Michele is preparing to return to her work as a life coach. She has a genuine gift for working with people, in ways that leave me, as a shy person, amazed. Michele has the most surprising and meaningful conversations with people in the checkout lines of grocery stores. I have sat by her side at a restaurant when she randomly told the waitress, “You would make a great actress! Have you ever considered acting?” To which the waitress replied, “Wow. I can’t tell you how much that means to me! I am studying acting.” My wife connects with people in magical ways.

Michele is a natural wise woman, an intuitive, an artist, a shaman, who continuously inspires me and frequently challenges me too. I am so pleased that she will once again be sharing her gifts with the world.

For that reason, we have been pushing hard, since before our move, in fact, to put together a new website that represents this new phase in her work.

I realize this doesn’t have much directly to do with poetry, but I wanted to share with you what has been a major focus in my life in recent months.

If you are curious, I invite you to visit my wife’s new site:

www.michelemanderson.com

Explore. Check out the blog. Michele recently posted an article about her experiences with art therapy, something that might appeal to this creative crowd.

When you are on the site send Michele a note through the Contact page to wish her well and let her know what you think of the new site.

Of course, if you’re looking for a life coach, someone to be a personal advocate, sounding board, and mentor, I certainly recommend her highly! I may be biased, I admit it, but I have watched her work with people since the 90s and I am still impressed by how deep and transformative her work is.

I wanted to share this moment of celebration in our household with you.

I hope you are having a wonderful day!


Recommended Books: Mary Oliver

New and Selected Poems Why I Wake Early Dream Work House of Light Thirst: Poems
More Books >>


Mary Oliver, Mary Oliver poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Mary Oliver

US (1935 – 2019) Timeline
Secular or Eclectic

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Sep 30 2022

Ivan M. Granger – Trinket

Published by under Ivan's Story,Poetry

Trinket
by Ivan M. Granger

Mother,
you are too practical,

trying to put
this odd lump
to good use.

Melt me down.

Make of me
some golden trinket,
some frivolous, bejeweled thing
to please
your eye.

Hang me
from your ear;
let me rest
against the warm pulse
of your neck.

Go ahead, Mother,
it is just you and I
before the mirror.
I won’t tell
if you want to spin
and laugh
like a girl
to see
this bit of glitter
set off
your smile.

— from Real Thirst: Poetry of the Spiritual Journey, by Ivan M. Granger


/ Image by lois komolafe /

It is the middle of Navratri for my Hindu friends, the nine nights of the Goddess. I thought of one of my own poems to the Divine Mother, Trinket.

Jaya Jagadambe, he Ma Durga
All praise to the Cosmic Mother, Ma Durga!

Along with all of the natural beauty of our new home here in Eugene, Oregon, we notice a significant homeless population for a relatively small city. Colorado had its homeless too, but in smaller numbers, and usually panhandling on street corners hoping for drivers to stop and stretch across the passenger seat to hand over a bill through the window.

Here in Eugene, the homeless are more part of the city, more present and somehow more integrated with the city. We no longer notice someone through the windshield as we’re driving by, deciding if we want to slow down and give a couple of dollars or continue on our way. In Eugene, we share the sidewalks, walking by each other downtown. Many have their regular spots, they have their place in the community, they are known, they are still people.

Earlier this week we spoke with a neighbor who is getting rid of some items and she mentioned that she like to donate to individuals, when she can. She knew the name of a homeless person who regularly stands outside the local grocery store, so she took the items directly to him.

We recently noticed an article in the local paper about a homeless man who had died and was much loved in the community for the music he used to play around downtown. An entire article about the passing of a homeless man who was still an important part of the community.

I find that profoundly touching.

Of course, my wife and I are having to recalibrate our comfort levels as well as learn to assess safety differently. Some of the people we encounter are clearly dealing with substance abuse issues. Some have obvious mental health issues (and with social programs having been slashed in this country for decades, often the street is the only place for them). Behaviors can be erratic, unpredictable. Some are people just struggling to regain a foothold in society. Some are carried by a threadbare high while seeking an ever lower bottom to hit.

But they are us. Seeing them in and among the rhythms of this small city reminds me that, regardless of their struggles or rough appearance, they are our brothers and sisters. They are part of my community too.

So how do we interact with these individuals? How do my wife and I judge safety walking through downtown? When do we make eye contact, maybe offer a friendly word, perhaps hand over a dollar, and when is it best to cross to the other side of the street and keep our distance? We’re still figuring that out.

I’m curious what your thoughts and experiences are. What sort of charities do you give to that you think are doing good work with the complex issues of hunger and homelessness? And do you have special ways of interacting with the homeless? I know of one person who used to put together care packs of clean socks, toothbrushes, dry foods, miscellaneous necessities and just kept them with him to hand out. Have you come up with creative ideas to help or meaningful ways to connect?

May the Mother’s love connect us all and care for us all!


Recommended Books: Ivan M. Granger

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) This Dance of Bliss: Ecstatic Poetry from Around the World Real Thirst: Poetry of the Spiritual Journey For Lovers of God Everywhere: Poems of the Christian Mystics Diamond Cutters: Visionary Poets in America, Britain & Oceania
More Books >>


Ivan M. Granger, Ivan M. Granger poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Ivan M. Granger

US (1969 – )
Secular or Eclectic
Yoga / Hindu : Advaita / Non-Dualist

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Aug 12 2022

Rumi – Keep knocking

Keep on knocking
by Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi

English version by Coleman Barks

Keep on knocking
’til the joy inside
opens a window
look to see who’s there

— from The Essential Rumi, Translated by Coleman Barks


/ Image by Daniel Gregoire /

We have made it to the other side of our journey and arrived safely in Eugene, Oregon. It is a homecoming for us, although we have been away for decades. Much is familiar, yet everything is new.

The drive out itself, while beautiful, was a bit of an ordeal. We passed through a heat wave affecting Utah and Idaho before entering the cooler weather of Oregon.

Eugene itself is lovely. The Willamette River running through town, trees and deep greens, blackberry bushes at the edges of alleyways just beginning to bear fruit. Walks along the river in the morning chill is a special treat. The downtown area is vibrant, more active than we remember in the early 90s. Trying to reorient to the idiosyncratic city layout, one way streets, unexpected loops and turns.

When we explore a town, the places we check out first to connect with the community: the natural food stores, the bookstores, coffee shops (though I rarely drink coffee), neighborhood parks. We’re making the rounds.

The ocean, just an hour-and-a-half’s drive away, calls to my wife. An afternoon trip coming up soon.

Boxes are everywhere. All the books arrived, though we did not bring all our old bookshelves, so just where will everything go? Which books make the cut for display on bookshelves and which get tucked away into closets?

Keep on knocking
’til the joy inside
opens a window
look to see who’s there

I want to say thank you to all of you, the entire Poetry Chaikhana community, for all of your thoughts and supportive messages through this move. My heart has been full through the miles traveled. Love to you all in return.

Have a beautiful day!


Recommended Books: Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty This Dance of Bliss: Ecstatic Poetry from Around the World Music of a Distant Drum: Classical Arabic, Persian, Turkish & Hebrew Poems Perfume of the Desert: Inspirations from Sufi Wisdom
More Books >>


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

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

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Jul 08 2022

Move Update

Thank you so much, everyone, for your many generous donations and for all of the wonderful, warm-hearted messages as we prepare for our move to Eugene, Oregon.

While we have not yet reached our $5,000 fundraising goal, I should be able to maintain a fairly regular poetry schedule, once we get settled.

Currently, we are now surrounded by stacks of boxes and empty bookshelves. We’re engaged in a flurry of planning, coordination, phone calls, and lifting of heavy things. It’s a strange thing to have imagined myself as leading a relatively non-materialistic life, but to then be confronted by all the stuff non-materialist me has managed to accumulate over the past few decades of living in Colorado. Because there is a financial calculation to choosing to transport everything such a distance, each object presents me with a challenge or a question: Is it useful? Is it meaningful? Have I become too attached too it? Or am I being too cavalier in the name of non-attachment and should I make more of an effort to hold onto it? We’re selling a little bit and donating a lot, and still we have so much to move. How did we ever manage to move halfway across the Pacific Ocean to Hawaii years ago? Youthful bravado, I suppose, and a willingness to go way beyond the limits of my then unrecognized chronic fatigue patterns. Trying to do things this time with more balance and wisdom, while still retaining a spark of that old bravado.

Wishing you magical adventures… and a beautiful day!

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Jul 01 2022

Poetry Chaikhana Move Updates

Poetry Chaikhana Move Updates

I want to say how profoundly touched I am by the many messages I have received wishing me well through this upcoming move. I haven’t been able to respond to every note, but I have read them all. Here is something I wrote to someone else also going through a move that I thought might be worth sharing:

“So much goes into a move, doesn’t it? It is not just planning and boxing and cleaning. A move becomes a sort of life review. We sift through all the things we have accumulated, furniture, books, mementos, every little thing that fills our living spaces. Each item reminds us of a memory, a time we purchased it, or when it was given to us. It can be an emotional process, reminding us of the stories of our lives, asking us what from our past we want to carry forward into the next phase.”

It’s a bit of a whirlwind around here right now, but we are so looking forward to this new phase, both personally and with the Poetry Chaikhana. We’re trying to catch the current in the midst of all the activity…

We have raised nearly two thirds of our $5,000 goal to help with the move!

The donations coming in to help with this move have been so generous! Many donations of $10, $20 and $30 have come in, along with several donations of larger amounts. I know that sometimes the smallest contributions mean the most, because they are often the most difficult to send. I am grateful to you all!

If you are still thinking of making a contribution — it is certainly welcome. It would be wonderful to reach that $5,000 goal. But if finances are too tight to send something right now, I genuinely understand. Your good wishes help too. And a friendly note of support arriving in my in-box or in the mail is always a welcome sight!

Thank you so much, everyone, for your help and encouragement through this big move. I look forward to working with you and watching the Poetry Chaikhana adapt and change in its new home!

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