It’s Plain and Simple

Yes…

I would’ve liked better teacups

But here you are

Nevertheless

Forsaken or gifted

Standing before me every morning

 

And so…

Despite a petulant will

Everyday I grow to love you

And everyday

I get acquainted

With your unexpected beauty

 

Love and Beauty

You’ve taught me

Are not mere affections

 

They are the gifts of our attention

Joys that we receive

Not in our hours of need or merit

But in the generosity of our receptiveness

 

They’re never destinations

But journeys of long, slow acquaintance

Of discovering

And getting to know.

This day, That Year

On June 19, 2010.

 

Last evening

While I waited

Still

In motionless traffic

 

I looked out of the window

And surveyed the scene…

 

Gushing water

That miraculously transformed

Into a raucous river

Where there was

Up until thirty minutes ago

A staid, grey asphalt road

 

(It even had a name

so established it was in identity and purpose)

 

The skies were gloomy…morbidly grim

And the rain poured

In an angry embittered attack

Like a hurl of abuses

 

And yet surprisingly

The people were smiling, laughing

Enjoying the stormy weather

Disturbingly and nervously out of rhythm

 

And I saw in that moment

A co-existence of law and exception

Of frenzied activity and unaffected stillness

Of pleasure and pain

Of gaiety and gravity

Of romance and indifference

 

Without principle

And without story

Contained and composed

On a single undivided canvas

 

Appearances begged my mind

For some explanation

For keen appreciation

For some semblance of balance and purpose

For coherence and cognition

In an agreeable reference to established truth

 

But Truth, I realized

Is not an establishment

 

Neither is it a destination

To which we must undertake a pilgrimage

 

It isn’t a charming euphemism

Nor is it a secret

That stays concealed within a cryptic code

 

And it isn’t a promise either

Awaiting fulfillment

In the distant unseen future

 

Truth is in the experience of NOW

It refuses to account for itself

Lest such account become next moment’s lie!

Truth by inherent virtue

Cannot and does not lie

And it does not care much for Reason or Rhyme

 

It is neither old nor new

It disappears as soon as it appears

It isn’t always staid and grey or

Named and established

In short,

It isn’t always a permanent asphalt road.

All or Nothing

Why speak
Of everything the ears hear
Or of every thought the mind entertains

Why must I be dragged
Out of a sense of custom or civility
Into every exchange of dull gossip

Why must I be numbed
Into believing every lame fib
That masquerades as profound insight

How do I purge out
Every toxic thought
That has been dumped into my mind
And now stains everything I see

How do I skim
This scum of ideas
That grotesquely distorts
An otherwise silent and clear reflection

How do I rise above
This discontent with my world
And forgive its relentless assault on my senses

Should I…
Refuse to see?
Refuse to hear?
Refuse to feel?

Would that help?

Why, I wonder,
Must there be all or nothing…

…Gently but surely
it dawns upon me

the meaning of Providence
…Of Indiscriminate and Total Abundance
…Of Benevolent Blessings

And now my mind rests…
Clean and still…
Receptive and silent…

Reflecting –as it does and it must
Inch for inch
Your full embrace.

A Conversation

You spoke because you felt compelled to speak

I listened because I felt compelled to listen

Something transpired in that sublime exchange

Between a spent thought and purchased silence

Silence now began to think

And an effusive thought now succumbed to silence

You and I had a conversation.

To Know is to Exhale

What is true knowledge? When can you say you know something? How do you know? Can knowledge be borrowed or transferred? Does knowledge fulfill a purpose or is knowledge in itself, the purpose to be…

Source: To Know is to Exhale

To Know is to Exhale

If only we knew… knew what we truly wanted… knew what was expected of us… knew our true potential… knew clearly- right from wrong… knew how to work, to love, to care, to respond, to express, to atone, to change… the list is endless!
But, why do we wish to know? Do we hope and perhaps, suppose that knowledge can arm us with the power to shape our experiences; that somehow we can take charge of our destinies and escape the effects of karma? Is there this hope within us that prior knowledge can help mitigate the experiences that life has in store for us?
And, does it? Does knowing about death; about the transient and phenomenal nature of existence save us from experiencing grief and sorrow and loss? Does knowing a priori the many challenges in a marital relationship save us from experiencing our own?
What then, can be an appropriate expectation from our knowledge? Is the purpose of man’s education to ‘know’ his world and thereby gain sovereignty over it? We wish that our learning be elegant, sophisticated, free of all embarrassing follies. Yet, probe a little, and you’ll see that it is only after fully experiencing that we truly learn. We get affected, addicted; we fall; we err; we summon up a dormant courage, we rise and we learn. Our education system supposes that if we started from the end we’d skip the pain and suffering and jump to a higher level of consciousness. So it says- learn, rise, summon up your courage and beware of falling… But then, aren’t we putting the proverbial cart before the horse?
What is true knowledge? When can you say you know something? How do you know? Can knowledge be borrowed or transferred? Does knowledge fulfill a purpose or is knowledge in itself, the purpose to be fulfilled?
We perceive a world external to us. It seems to have been there even before we were born and we believe it shall be there even after we go. Our instructions about this world begin very early on in our lives. We see, hear, smell, taste and touch and that knowledge is interpreted for us. We’re informed that that what we touch, see, hear and smell has a name; and not only will knowing those names do us good (in terms of social acceptance and survival), but also, we must know what the world before us has known about our experiences. We call this education.
But is such an education past its day? When man believed that the world manifest before him was a challenge he needed to surmount, an education at the level of gathering and disseminating information may have been relevant and enough. But has this information-oriented system of education become irrelevant today? Today, we’re aware that the world’s challenges- global warming, environmental molestation, terrorism, consumerism, corruption, violence, excessive legislation, power imbalances, wealth and resource depletion and of course, a token education begin and end with the biggest culprit- man himself. He alone is both the problem and its solution. Of all the problems we perceive at a macro level, the individual’s constitution is the microcosm. What seems like a huge monster-like challenge- standing outside of us- has in reality- proceeded from the darkness of the individual heart and mind. Where true knowledge is absent, imagination is most fertile and desire uncontrollable. Our imagining that our futures might be at stake pushes us to amass and hoard wealth. Our imagining that we may be deprived of love, affection and acceptance, makes pretense, lying and empty tokenism a way of life. Our imaginary fear that life is ruthless and difficult makes corrupting an easy lifestyle choice. We delude ourselves into believing that we know… but can you truly claim to know anything without knowing the fears and machinations of your own mind.
It is to dispel this darkness that man seeks knowledge. And we wish that the knowledge we receive be true and authentic and not the mere transference of another’s interpretation and fertile imagination. But how are we to know that we indeed, truly know?
We read. We speak. We exchange views and we find ourselves believing some things and discarding others. The external stimuli are available to all; yet the simple action of an apple falling from a tree prompts a Newton to discover the law of gravity, an artist to see in it a rich symbolism and an agriculturist- an opportunity for cultivation. It seems that we come to know what is in our essential nature to know. We can only know that which resonates and concurs with something already in existence within us. Look back and you shall see that the knowledge that truly mattered was not that which cloaked your ignorance, but was that which revealed to you your wisdom. Wisdom does not dwell in the height or breadth of our thinking, but lies in the depth of our understanding. And therefore, often, the most erudite teachings, that hold the answers to every possible question ever asked pass us by like an indifferent wind. Not everything touches us, speaks to us or inspires us. And when something does, we truly feel that it lends more power to our voice.
True knowledge therefore, may be discerned in correct self-expression. When you know something truly and authentically, it flows in and out of you as effortlessly as your breath. The quest for knowledge is fundamentally, a search for your own voice.
Knowledge and understanding cannot be given to us unless we have within us an equal knowledge and understanding to give.

Separation

Feeling now keeps its distance from me

I can see it

And am aware of its presence

But feeling and I don’t touch anymore

Our love affair-

Torrid, passionate, obsessive and humiliating

Has ended

We’ve drifted apart as lovers

And found our bliss as friends

Co-existing and comfortable

In the separateness of our identities.

 

What You Don’t Say

I never know what to make of your words

So I ignore them.

And see instead

The source of this gibberish

And therein I see

Sometimes fear

Sometimes guilt

Sometimes need

Sometimes concern…

…always vulnerability.

And so…

Even though your words say

That you don’t care

And that

You couldn’t be bothered

I agonise no more over their meaning

But see now

With only the simplicity of my own heart

Your own wounded innocence.

The Moment

It takes a moment

for ‘Forever’ to end.

The hours, the days

The months, the years

Can be swallowed in a moment.

The stories we are stringing together

The stories we are living

Can come undone

And scatter like pearls

that lose the thread they cling to

All in a moment.

The Moment is the Ministry of Justice

The Moment is the Sentinel of Truth

The Moment is the Breath of God.

It’s not easy to stand

So close to The Moment

Its power is immense

And so is its mercy.

It can take away your All

Leaving you with nothing more

Than yourself.

Cutting you down to its size

Reminding you

That yourself is all that you’ve got

And The Moment is all that you need.

 

The Insignificance of Significance

Empty pages

Seek recourse from an empty mind

and an empty heart

Stop! Don’t feel!

Lest you weep

If you weep

You’ll unleash a storm

And then

What about the repercussions?

The aftermath?

 

Quiet

 

Hush.

 

Let all storms die within.

 

Breathe- breathe- breathe

 

I see the shadow of my hand as I write

Is that of some significance?

 

Does this simple interplay of light, form and feeling embody a deeper meaning?

Why did this thought come to me?

Ah! Is it because there are now two of us?

The outside is now looking in?

 

I wonder

Are you writing about me?

Or am I writing about you?

Speak, dammit!

Is that how you look?

Dark

Sans detail

Sans voice

Just a shadow

You’re nothing but a mere cast of me?

But then, are you my essence?

 

Just empty watchfulness

An empty page

Defined by nothing more than a silhouette.

 

Breathe-breathe-breathe…