{"id":5820,"date":"2017-06-23T08:37:51","date_gmt":"2017-06-23T15:37:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/?p=5820"},"modified":"2017-06-23T08:50:36","modified_gmt":"2017-06-23T15:50:36","slug":"david-whyte-it-is-not-enough","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/2017\/06\/23\/david-whyte-it-is-not-enough\/","title":{"rendered":"David Whyte – It is Not Enough"},"content":{"rendered":"

It is Not Enough
\nby David Whyte<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

It is not enough to know.
\nIt is not enough to follow
\nthe inward road conversing in secret.<\/p>\n

It is not enough to see straight ahead,
\nto gaze at the unborn
\nthinking the silence belongs to you.<\/p>\n

It is not enough to hear
\neven the tiniest edge of rain.<\/p>\n

You must go to the place
\nwhere everything waits,
\nthere, when you finally rest,
\neven one word will do,
\none word or the palm of your hand
\nturning outward
\nin the gesture of gift.<\/p>\n

And now we are truly afraid
\nto find the great silence
\nasking so little.<\/p>\n

One word, one word only.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is Not Enough\u201d from <\/i>Where Many Rivers Meet by David Whyte. \u00a0Copyright \u00a9 1990, 2004 by David Whyte. \u00a0Used by permission of the author and Many Rivers Press (www.davidwhyte.com<\/a>) \u00a0All rights reserved.<\/i><\/em><\/p>\n


\/ Image by babasteve<\/a> \/<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

As I know many of you have experienced in recent weeks, we too here in Colorado have had several hot days. Then last night, a burst of rain. This morning cool, damp, overcast. Even the starlings are stunned with relief and are quiet.<\/p>\n

Reading today\u2019s poem by David Whyte, it feels as if he is exploring a deep insight, but what he is actually saying is not entirely clear. Let\u2019s try to puzzle it out together.<\/p>\n

It is not enough to see straight ahead,
\nto gaze at the unborn
\nthinking the silence belongs to you.<\/i><\/p>\n

I suspect he is saying something about not becoming too self-satisfied even with our most spiritually open states, that we shouldn\u2019t become convinced that we possess those moments.<\/p>\n

You must go to the place
\nwhere everything waits\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

When I think of waiting, I imagine a patient stillness, but also uncertainty. And in that uncertainty our awareness remains open, receptive, alive. In possession and certainty, the awareness becomes fixed, taking in less and less of the flowing mystery.<\/p>\n

there, when you finally rest,
\neven one word will do,
\none word or the palm of your hand
\nturning outward
\nin the gesture of gift.<\/i><\/p>\n

This, to me, is the heart of the poem.<\/p>\n

But what is this \u201cone word\u201d the poet refers to? David Whyte\u2019s writings aren\u2019t particularly steeped in Christian terminology, so he is not likely to be making a reference to The Word as Christians understand it. <\/p>\n

He draws an equivalency between that one word and the palm of an open hand in the gesture of a gift \u2014 a beautiful image. This one word suggests a lack of self and lack of clinging, and that becomes a gift or an offering. <\/p>\n

And now we are truly afraid
\nto find the great silence
\nasking so little.<\/i><\/p>\n

Now that we are resting, waiting, having passed through insight without clinging to it, free from self, bathing in the great silence, that\u2019s when he brings up fear. But the fear is not of the silence, rather that so little is asked of us.<\/p>\n

I take this to mean that we are so intent on action, on doing. Even in our spiritual opening, we expect some impulse or divine command to do something with it. But instead the reflex to act fades away. One profoundly and simply IS.<\/p>\n

We don\u2019t do, we open. Like a hand in a gesture of gift. Like the lips parting to utter one single word.<\/p>\n

One word, one word only.<\/i><\/p>\n

What do you think this poem is saying? Do you read this poem differently?<\/p>\n


\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/a>Recommended Books: David Whyte<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n\n

<\/p>\n

\n\n\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/center>
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<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
The House of Belonging<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nWhere Many Rivers Meet<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
\n\n
\n\"David<\/a>\n<\/td>\n\nDavid Whyte<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

US (1955 \u2013 )
\nSecular or Eclectic<\/a><\/a>
\n<\/a><\/a><\/em>\n<\/td>\n

<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/p>\n

David Whyte grew up in Yorkshire, England. He studied Marine Zoology in Wales and trained as a naturalist in the Galapagos Islands. He has also worked as a naturalist guide, leading anthropological and natural history expeditions in various parts of the world, including treks among the mountains of Nepal. <\/p>\n

Whyte\u2019s poetry reflects a living spirituality and a deep connection to the natural world. <\/p>\n

He is one of the few poets to take his perspectives on creativity into the field of organizational development, conducting workshops with many American and international companies.<\/p>\n

David Whyte currently lives in the Pacific Northwest of the United States.<\/p>\n

More poetry by David Whyte<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is Not Enough by David Whyte It is not enough to know. It is not enough to follow the inward road conversing in secret. It is not enough to see straight ahead, to gaze at the unborn thinking the silence belongs to you. It is not enough to hear even the tiniest edge of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[698,2090,2088,700,2089],"class_list":["post-5820","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-david-whyte","tag-hand","tag-one-word","tag-silence","tag-word"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5820","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5820"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5820\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5824,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5820\/revisions\/5824"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5820"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5820"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5820"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}