daydreaming

I believe that the root of evil,

in everybody perhaps,

but, certainly in those whom

affliction has touched,

is daydreaming.

It is the sole consolation,

the unique resource of the afflicted;

the one solace that helps them bear

the fearful burden to time;

and a very innocent one,

besides being indispensable.

So how could it be possible to renounce it?

It has only one disadvantage,

which is that it is unreal.

To renounce it for the love of truth

is really to abandon all one's possessions

in a mad excess of love and follow Him

who is the personification of Truth.

And it is really to bear the cross;

because time is the cross.

In all its forms without exception,

daydreaming is falsehood.

It excludes love. Love is real.

~ Simone Weil

from for lovers of god everywhere

poems of the Christian mystics

by roger housden

art by picasso

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  Daydreaming - not the activity of having thoughts, 
but allowing one's attention to get lost in them -
 is an obstacle to presence, an obstacle to love 
which exists only in presence, an obstacle to
 our embrace of the fullness of life,  and to 
contemplative practices in all traditions..

.

I am blind

.

I am blind and do not see the things of this world; 

but when the Light comes from above, it enlightens my Heart, 

and I can see, for the Eye of my Heart sees everything.

The Heart is a sanctuary of the Center in which there is a little space 

wherein the Great Spirit dwells, and this is the Eye. 

This is the Eye of Wakentaka by which he sees all things,

and through which we see Him.

.

~  Black Elk

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The Night Abraham Called to the Stars

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Do you remember the night Abraham first saw

The stars? He cried to Saturn: "You are my Lord!"

How happy he was! When he saw the Dawn Star,

.

He cried, ""You are my Lord!" How destroyed he was

When he watched them set. Friends, he is like us:

We take as our Lord the stars that go down.

.

We are faithful companions to the unfaithful stars.

We are diggers, like badgers; we love to feel

The dirt flying out from behind our back claws.

.

And no one can convince us that mud is not 

Beautiful. It is our badger soul that thinks so.

We are ready to spend the rest of our life

.

Walking with muddy shoes in the wet fields.

We resemble exiles in the kingdom of the serpent.

We stand in the onion fields looking up at the night.

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My heart is a calm potato by day, and a weeping

Abandoned woman by night. Friend, tell me what to do,

Since I am a man in love with the setting stars.

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~ Robert Bly

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a turtle's pace

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Consider the turtle.  A whole summer - June, July, and August -

 is not too good nor too much to hatch a turtle in.  

 

Perchance you have worried yourself, despaired of the world, 

meditated the end of life, and all things seemed rushing to destruction;

 but nature has steadily and serenely advanced with a turtle's pace.

.

~ Henry David Thoreau

from a journal entry, 1856

art by Roderick Maclver

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water lily

.

.

My whole life is mine, but whoever says so

will deprive me, for it is infinite.

The ripple of water, the shade of the sky

are mine; it is still the same, my life.

No desire opens me: I am full,

I never close myself with refusal-

in the rhythm of my daily soul

I do not desire-I am moved;

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real:

into my body at the bottom of the water

I attract the beyonds of mirrors...

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~ Rainer Maria Rilke 

translated by A. Poulin 

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you, darkness

You, darkness, that I come from

I love you more than all the fires

that fence in the world, 

for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone

and then no one outside learns of you. 

But the darkness pulls in everything-

shapes and fires, animals and myself, 

how easily it gathers them! -

powers and people-

and it is possible a great presence is moving near me. 

I have faith in nights. 

~ Rainer Maria Rilke


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nurture the darkness of your soul

.

Nurture the darkness of your soul

until you become whole.

Can you do this and not fail?

Can you focus your life-breath until you become

supple as a newborn child?

While you cleanse your inner vision

will you be found without fault?

Can you love people and lead them

without forcing your will on them?

When Heaven gives and takes away

can you be content with the outcome?

When you understand all things

can you step back from your own understanding?

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Giving birth and nourishing,

making without possessing,

expecting nothing in return.

To grow, yet not to control:

This is the mysterious virtue.

.

~ Tao Te Ching

translation by j. h. mcdonald

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vulnerability

.

Sensitivity implies being vulnerable. 

One is sensitive to one's reactions, to one's hurts, one's beleaguered existence: 

that is, one is sensitive about oneself and in this vulnerable state there is really self-interest 

and therefore the capability of being hurt, of becoming neurotic. 

 

It is a form of resistance which is essentially concentrated on the self. 

 

The strength of vulnerability is not self-centred. 

It is like the young spring leaf that can withstand strong winds and flourish. 

This vulnerability is incapable of being hurt, whatever the circumstances. 

Vulnerability is without centre as the self. 

It has an extraordinary strength, vitality and beauty.

 

 

 

J. Krishnamurti

from Letters to the Schools Vol. 2

photo by albert koetsier

 

 

 

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bees

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In every instant, two gates. One opens to fragrant paradise, one to hell.

Mostly we go through neither.

.

Mostly we nod to our neighbor,

lean down to pick up the paper,

go back into the house.

.

But the faint cries—ecstasy? horror?

Or did you think it the sound

of distant bees,

making only the thick honey of this good life?

.

~ Jane Hirshfield

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to prose

.

.

Whatever you may say

whatever you pretend

you do not begin or end

when the stories do

the ones that you repeat

later starting again

or when the days that you tell

all those that never

themselves said a word

have long been utterly still

and yet you were there 

when they were 

you were heard

commenting in the unmetered

service of understanding

your description

remains current for some time

after the face has gone

even if not written down

but you are different

from what you recount

and although we know 

only scattered fragments of you

glimpses of birds in bushes

gestures in car windows 

of which we forget

at once almost everything 

you define us

we are the ones who need you

we can no longer tell

whether we believe

anything without you

or whether we can hear

all that you are not

O web of answer

sea of forgetting is it true

that you remember

.

~ W.S. Merwin

from Present Company

.

 

 

Whatever we say

we know there is another

language under this one

 

a word of it is always there on the tip of you

unsayable and early

O you for whom 

all languages have been named

who have none of your own

 

naked sleeper in the cave 

where you were born

dreamer without words

who first tasted 

a verb of the world

you who speak as though

you could see

 

you have not forgotten

the serpent your ancestor

its fluttering inarticulate flame

or expectation

on the way to you

 

 

 

~ W. S. Merwin

from Present Company

The Woodpecker Keeps Returning

.

.

The woodpecker keeps returning

to drill the house wall.

Put a pie plate over one place, he chooses another.

There is nothing good to eat there:

he has found in the house

a resonant billboard to post his intentions,

his voluble strength as provider.

But where is the female he drums for? Where?

I ask this, who am myself the ruined siding,

the handsome red-capped bird, the missing mate.

.

~ Jane Hirshfield

from after

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The world rests

.

The world rests in the night. Trees, mountains, fields, and faces are released from the prison of shape and the burden of exposure. Each thing creeps back into its own nature within the shelter of the dark. Darkness is the ancient womb. Nighttime is womb-time. Our souls come out to play. The darkness absolves everything; the struggle for identity and impression falls away. We rest in the night.

.

~ John O'Donohue

from Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

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for a new home

.

.

May this house shelter your life.

When you come in home here,

May all the weight of the world

Fall from your shoulders.

.

May your heart be tranquil here,

Blessed by peace the world can not give.

.

May this home be a lucky place,

Where the graces your life desires

Always find the pathway to your door.

.

May nothing destructive

Ever cross your threshold.

.

May this be a safe place

Full of understanding and acceptance,

Where you can be as you are,

Without the need of any mask

Of pretense or image.

.

May this home be a place of discovery,

Where the possibilities that sleep

In the clay of your soul can emerge

To deepen and refine your vision

For all that is yet to come to birth.

.

~ John O'Donohue

from To Bless the Space Between Us

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hidden but always present

.

The Tao is like an empty container:

it can never be emptied and can never be filled.

Infinitely deep, it is the source of all things.

It dulls the sharp, unties the knotted,

shades the lighted, and unites all of creation with dust.

.

It is hidden but always present.

I don't know who gave birth to it.

It is older than the concept of God.

.

~ Tao Te Ching

translation by j. h. mcdonald

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