Posted on by solangesuri2015

Do It Your Way

A set architecture with walled spaces
Stairways and elevations, and paved pathways
With names and arrows for direction-
May serve as a design for order and ease;
But the human is a dreamer…and a seeker
And conveniences cannot take him to where he needs to be.

His heart soars when he’s inspired.
In the intensity of the present moment
Even time releases him- so that the fire in him
Can set aflame the fuel that lays silent, muted and wasted
All can be re-ignited, all can have their power restored
And the atmosphere can be uplifted from dreariness.

The human creates not because he can trade his creations
But simply because he CAN create…
And to do so Is to discover the divine impulse
By which one can recreate a world
Of possibilities and infinite directions
So that all paths can take you to the self you’re seeking.

Posted on by solangesuri2015

Boredom

Wanting to do something…
A search for meaning
And purpose and fulfilment
Or simply the desire for thrill and excitement
– Can all be traced to boredom.

Our being seeks purpose in doing.

When all of our doing
Progressively reveals to us
The utter futility of all our endeavours
Where things remain… not better, not worse…
We begin to look at life more inquiringly.

Life is the fount of eternal youth.

Each moment is a fresh possibility
In between your memory and desire
There is a silent and divine space
You’ve often sought this space
Like you do a shrine…

For quiet and peaceful reflection.

Your boredom was blindness
You could not see the necessity of nothingness.
Your boredom was ignorance
As your awareness was in a state of deep sleep
Your boredom was also the inertia

By which you moved towards your north star

Your boredom is your home
The sanctuary that you return to
When you’re exhausted chasing your dreams
Your boredom is what allows you
To keep things real.

What you were escaping from, is what you’ll end up escaping to.

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The True End

When do our lives end?
Never.
They continue.
Death is not an end to life.
Death is the end of a form…
An entity… an identity…
Life is eternal.
It does not cease to be.
It ever renews.

An end only marks a new beginning
A new cycle of angst and small escapisms
Death is not a freedom
From sorrow… from misery… from conflict.
Freedom belongs to the realm of life.
It must be sought here and now
Not merely by way of vote, revolt or a bloody war
But through a life of surrender and devotion
To the altar of a higher realization.

This realization is an internal independence
From all that is external to us.
And is a firm awareness
Of what is intrinsic to ourselves.
The intrinsic is life.
The extrinsic is manifestation.
Freedom is not the end of undesirable circumstances.
Freedom is liberation from the very desire to be free.
The true end is that which is free of a new beginning.

Posted on by solangesuri2015

What it Means to Grow

To grow one must courageously set foot
In ‘the higher’… ‘the freer’… ‘the truer’…
But these need not be assumed
To be ‘more than’
Or ‘greater than’
Our present state.

‘Higher’ could be ‘smaller’.
‘Freer’ could be ‘lesser’.
‘Truer’ could be ‘wiser’.
In other words, growth is not merely
In the mindless annexure of more.
It’s in the understanding of intrinsic worth.

To grow is to question the assumption of inadequacy
It is to reconcile the conflict
Between who we are and
Who we imagine ourselves to be;
Between what we don’t know
And what we refuse to learn.

Posted on by solangesuri2015

The Marriage of Thought and Action

Thought, it thinks that it knows
And that it is clever…
And creative and intelligent…
And two steps ahead of action
And can easily hoodwink it.

And so, it has become ordinary
To say one thing
And do quite the opposite.
Our thoughts and actions
Have come to live separate lives.

Our thoughts are no longer
Loving or respectful…
Because they no longer feel the need
To descend to action
And foster a real relationship with life.

While thought is energy that inspires action
It can only do so when it has the heart
To be subsumed by the action of surrender;
Its claim to authority being true
On the condition it is willing to surrender it.

After all, one can’t think one’s way
Out of the morass of existence
It must be walked through
Its difficulties must be experienced
At all dimensions of our being.

If not committed to taking a form through action
Thought quickly becomes a shroud
Covering all that has died within us
Our truth, Our Morality, Our agency
Our awareness of who we truly are.

Posted on by solangesuri2015

To Be is not To Be

I have no expectations
From my relationships
Other than integrity
–An integrity that needs no justification.

I distrust tall claims
Of love and support
Of intensity and eternity
I find them unnecessary and performative.

To be there for another
Requires no art, no utterance
If you are in a relationship
You are–for better or for worse–already there.

So many relationships disintegrate
Because promises made were unkept.
Over the course of weeks, months and years
Love once proclaimed, now remains a faint echo.

Intimacy, a deepening, an anchoring…
These are the fruits of a simple tree
That weathers all weathers
And lives through many a changing season.

To be is to stand apart
From all imagination and all make-believe
To freely exist in between the lines
To slip out of the captivity of a script.

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Suffering

The broken arm
The broken leg
The broken heart
The broken dreams

The brutal separation
The unmet expectations
The shattered myth
The unfulfilled desires

The empty hour
The vacant days
The crushing disappointment
The weight of disillusionment

Suffering takes on many forms.

Isn’t it our common condition?
Isn’t it a reminder to us all
That our attachments will yield
Nothing but sorrow?

That we must let go
Of all our clinging
And dwell not in misery
But set foot towards a higher dimension.

That we must walk alone
In pain, but liberated
Fully free to experience our sorrow
So that we are free from suffering it.

The morning breeze caresses me gently. It is nonchalant.

Posted on by solangesuri2015

Sometimes You Wonder…

Sometimes you wonder
About all that you’ve accumulated
To your soul
What will happen to it all
After you’ve gone?
Where will it go?
All the stuff?
All that matter…?
All that you think matters…?
What happens to it….?
Isn’t it also a sort of living responsibility
To give it all away?
To empty yourself before you go?

Who will I give my memories to?
…Perhaps those whom I create them with.
And my thoughts?
May they henceforth only be a prayer
And may they live on
In the lives of others
As blessings received, unasked for.
What about my hurt and my pain?
To what will they transform?
Let them remain absorbed in silence
And become the compassion and beauty
That inspires and powers all art.

Sometimes you wonder
To this eventuality of death
What matters? What doesn’t?
Does nothing matter?
Does everything matter?
What promises does time keep?
Fulfilment? Knowledge? Self-discovery?
Perhaps these are never the outcome
Of a living process…
Perhaps fulfilment, knowledge and self-discovery
Exist eternally and are right here, right now.
In time, matter can only appear and disappear.

Posted on by solangesuri2015

Understanding

True achievement lies
In dissolving all achievements
So that you are left
With a beginner’s mind…

I’m coming to see
That the most valuable
Part of my life
Are moments of silence and solitude.

There was a time
I saw them as empty…
Something that I must fill up
With something meaningful.

Today, I realize
Nothing apart from
My sheer existence
Has any meaning.

Posted on by solangesuri2015

All That We Waste

We waste our mental energies
Worrying disproportionately of things
That are of little consequence;
Or which cannot be undone by our doing.

We waste our time
Trying to become someone other than we are
Thinking that our happiness lies elsewhere
And must be sought, or conquered…or strived for.

We waste our lives
Thinking that our personal stories matter
Unaware that with a name and an identity
Our existence is a life created by a surrogate self.

We waste our relationships
Expecting from them a life
We’re unable to give ourselves.
Seeking fulfilment without putting our love to work.

We waste our education
By stopping the process of learning
Thinking of it as a badge of accomplishment
And not as a living aspect that needs to be nurtured.

We waste our passions
By corrupting their purpose
Relegating the highest in us
To deliver to us our lowest, most basic goals.

We waste our well of emotions
By treating it like a dump
For our petty fears, anxieties and our hatred
We’re no longer able to taste their sweetness.

We squander away our spirit
Because we mistake its silence for its absence
Unable to understand how simple stillness
Can convey us from confusion to clarity.

Is it any surprise therefore,
That our land, our trees, our waters, our air
Our communities, our society, our culture
Also lie wasted?