Wednesday, June 3, 2020

the runaway








The Place where you are right now
God circled on a map for you.

~ Hafiz


The poet tells you
god has put a circle around you on a map
to locate you in sacred space.
Then why do you keep tunneling
underground,
carving labyrinths for your escape?



~ Dorothy Walters
from Marrow of Flame
art by Picasso



Monday, June 1, 2020

the ancient radiance of others






In your clay body, things are coming to expression and to light
 that were never known before, presences that never came to light or shape
 in any other individual.  To paraphrase Heidegger, who said,
 "Man is a shepherd of being,"  we could say,  "Man is a shepherd of clay." 
 You represent an unknown world that begs you to bring it to voice.  

Often the joy you feel does not belong to your individual biography 
but to the clay out of which you are formed.  At other times, 
you will find sorrow moving through you, like a dark mist over a landscape.
  This sorrow is dark enough to paralyze you.  It is a mistake to interfere 
with this movement of feeling.  It is more appropriate to recognize
 that this emotion belongs more to your clay than to your mind.  
It is wise to let this weather of feeling pass;  it is on its way elsewhere.  
We so easily forget that our clay has a memory that preceded our minds, 
a life of its own before it took its present form.   

Regardless of how modern we seem, we still remain ancient, 
sister and brothers of the one clay.  In each of us a different part of the mystery
 becomes luminous.  To truly be and become yourself, 
you need the ancient radiance of others.





~ John O'Donohue
from Anam Cara



the immense expanse beyond








The search for reason ends at the known; on the immense expanse beyond
 it only the sense of the ineffable can glide. It alone knows the route
 to that which is remote from experience and understanding.
 Neither of them is amphibious: reason cannot go beyond the shore, 
and the sense of the ineffable is out of place where we measure, 
where we weigh. We do not leave the shore of the known
 in search of adventure or suspense or because of the failure of reason
 to answer our questions. We sail because our mind is like a fantastic seashell,
 and when applying our ear to its lips we hear a perpetual murmur
 from the waves beyond the shore. Citizens of two realms, 
we all must sustain a dual allegiance: we sense the ineffable in one realm, 
we name and exploit reality in another. Between the two we set up a system
 of references, but we can never fill the gap. They are as far and as close
 to each other as time and calendar, as violin and melody,
 as life and what lies beyond the last breath.




~ Abraham Joshua Heschel
from Man Is Not Alone: A Philosophy of Religion
photo by Ansel Adams






Sunday, May 31, 2020

ventilating the world with tenderness









~ Greg Boyle





hidden







Hidden in the heart of every creature
Exists the Self, subtler than the subtlest,
Greater than the greatest.  They go beyond
All sorrow who extinguish their self-will
And behold the glory of the Self
Through the grace of the Lord of Love.

Though one sits in meditation in a 
Particular place, the Self within
Can exercise his influence far away.
Though still, he moves everything everywhere.

When the wise realize the Self,
Formless in the midst of forms, changeless
In the midst of change, omnipresent
And supreme, they go beyond sorrow.

The Self cannot be known through study
Of the scriptures, nor through the intellect,
Nor through hearing discourses about it.
The Self can be attained only by those
Whom the Self chooses.  Verily unto them
Does the Self reveal himself.






~ The Katha Upanishad
translated by Eknath Easwaran



Saturday, May 30, 2020

blessing in the chaos





To all that is chaotic
in you,
let there come silence.


Let there be
a calming
of the clamoring,
a stilling
of the voices that
have laid their claim
on you,
that have made their
home in you,


that go with you
even to the
holy places
but will not
let you rest,
will not let you
hear your life
with wholeness
or feel the grace
that fashioned you.


Let what distracts you
cease.
Let what divides you
cease.
Let there come an end
to what diminishes
and demeans,
and let depart
all that keeps you
in its cage.


Let there be
an opening
into the quiet
that lies beneath
the chaos,
where you find
the peace
you did not think
possible
and see what shimmers
within the storm.



The human heart continues to dream of a state of wholeness,
 a place where everything comes together, 
where loss will be made good, where blindness will transform
 into vision, where damage will be made whole, 
where the clenched question will open in the house of surprise,
 where the travails of a life’s journey will enjoy a homecoming. 
To invoke a blessing is to call some of that wholeness upon a person now. 




~ Jan Richardson
art by klimt




be helpless







Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.

We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.
If we say we can, we're lying.
If we say No, we don't see it,
That No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.

So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.





~ Rumi
translation by Coleman Barks




haunted





We are looking for your laugh.
Trying to find the path back to it
between drooping trees.
Listening for your rustle
under bamboo,
brush of fig leaves,
feeling your step
on the porch,
natty lantana blossom
poked into your buttonhole.
We see your raised face
at both sides of a day.
How was it, you lived around
the edge of everything we did,
seasons of ailing; growing,
mountains of laundry; mail?
I am looking for you first; last
in the dark places,
when I turn my face away
from headlines at dawn,
dropping the rolled news to the floor.
Your rumble of calm
poured into me.
There was the saving grace
of care, from day one, the watching
and being watched
from every corner of the yard.





~ Naomi Shihab Nye
from Transfer





Friday, May 29, 2020

the movement of love






Meditation is the movement of love. It isn't the love of the one
or of the many.  It is like water that anyone can drink out of any jar...
it is inexhaustible. 

The soil in which the meditative mind can begin is the soil of everyday life,
 the strife, the pain, and the fleeting joy. It must begin there, and bring order,
 and from there move endlessly. But if you are concerned only with making order,
 then that very order will bring about its own limitation, 
and the mind will be its prisoner.
 
 In all this movement you must somehow begin from the other end, 
from the other shore, and not always be concerned with this shore
 or how to cross the river. You must take a plunge into the water,
 not knowing how to swim. And the beauty of meditation
 is that you never know where you are, 
where you are going, what the end is.




~  J. Krishnamurti
from The Meditative Mind
with thanks to Love is a Place




 

stories of the Buddha's last days










~ Jack Kornfield



Thursday, May 28, 2020

I cobbled their boots






How could I love my fellow men who tortured me?

One night I was dragged into a room 
and beaten near death with
their shoes

striking me hundreds of times
in the face, scarring me 
forever.

I cried out for God to help, until I fainted.

That night in a dream, in a dream more real than this world.
a strap from the Christ's sandal
fell from my bleeding
mouth,

and I looked at Him and He 
was weeping, and
spoke,

"I cobbled their boots;
how sorry 
I am.

What moves all things
is God."




~ St John of the Cross
from Love poems of God,
Twelve sacred voices from the East and West





in my wallet I carry a card






In my wallet I carry a card
which declares I have the power to marry.

In my wallet I carry a card
which declares I may drive.

 
In my wallet I carry a card
that says to a merchant I may be trusted to pay her.

 
In my wallet I carry a card
that states I can borrow a book in the town where I live.

 
In my hand I carry a card
Its lines declare I am cardless, carless,
stateless, and have no money.

It is buoyant and edgeless.
It names me one of the Order of All Who Will Die.




~ Jane Hirshfield
from The Beauty



  

forgiveness










~ Jack Kornfield



 

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

mosquito







I say I
and
a small mosquito drinks from my tongue

but many say we and hear I
say you or he and 
hear I

what can we do with this problem

a bowl held in both hands
cannot be filled by the holder

x, says the blue whale
x, say the krill
solve for y, says the ocean, then multiply by existence

the feet of an ant make their own sound on the earth

ice is astonished by water

a person misreads

delirium as delphinium
and falls into
a blueness sleepy as beauty when sneezing

the pronoun dozes




~ Jane Hirshfield
from The Beauty



my species








even
a small purple artichoke
boiled
in its own bittered
and darkening
waters
grows tender,
grows tender and sweet

patience, I think,
my species

keep testing the spiny leaves

the spiny heart




~ Jane Hirshfield
from The Beauty