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Grow Within

Life is not so much an externality
As it is an internal movement
Of pulse and impulse
-Unknown cause and
Its sorrowful effect….
Between which man must learn
How to be. Should he be
Defined by his fears and
Limited by his desires?
Or, refusing all definitions and
Rejecting the impulse for an identity
He should give up the idea of being someone?

Achievement (of anything in this world)
Cannot be a worthy goal
If it is pursued for its own sake.
It becomes liberating
When it entails
Leaving behind the need
To be accomplished
…To be someone distinctive
In the vastness of existence
That is the real need;
The real poverty of consciousness
We need to be free of.

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The Other

Who, or rather
What is the Other?
Your hope? Your helplessness?
Your expectation? Your indifference?
Your need for control?
Or that which you hate?
Or that which you fear?
Or, a target for your anger?

You exist in a vacuum.
Your chronic need to be someone
Creates the Other
–The matter to your anti-matter.
They are what they are
Because of what you wish to be
The Other is that part of you
That you have disowned.

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Of Course, The World is Disappointing

Why expect anything
Of real value
From a world
Designed for disappointment?

Then what? What else is there
Apart from this world?
Of what purpose its enticements and its promises?
What is the ultimate fate of our hopes, our efforts?

The world’s vacuousness
Becomes your ache
A sorrow that leaves you wondering
About what counts as real happiness.

The world is a provider, not a giver
The individual can only find meaning in giving
He can neither satisfactorily take
Nor meaningfully provide.

To make something
Of what is provided
Is the art of man.
This art cultivates him.

Through his art, he transforms his ignorance to faith
He learns to stand unaffected and un-compromised
By the vagaries of the world.
His artifice reflecting a profound wisdom.

The lies of the world cannot be changed
By the activism of truth.
Truth is in being
Not in dreaming.

The truth just is-
unlimited, infinite in its possibilities.
It’s neither an idea
Nor an ideal.

If the world feels like a disappointment
It’s a time to grow
It’s an opportunity to cultivate new means
It’s time to recalibrate your perception of the world.

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Pain Can Release You From Suffering

Emotional pain is a shapeshifter
It can take on endless forms
The more you try to escape it
The more persistently it stays with you.
Suffering is the price you pay
For being a fugitive in life.

An ache-less heart is no solution
It is the most ignoble form of suffering.
It reeks of weakness…cowardice…denial.
A habitual dulling of pain
Through a vapid indulgence in the pits of pleasure
Cannot really be an indication of wellbeing.

To be free from pain
One must climb its walls
Refusing to be imprisoned by it.
One must see
The want it points to;
As that is the need of your soul.

Wisdom is coming to know
The unreality of dichotomies.
Our pain is not the problem;
It points to the problem.
Our pain is not a signal of things dying
But is the harbinger of a new possibility.

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Adapting

Adapting
I’m coming to see
Is not as benign a process
As it is made out to be…
Generally suggesting a soft compromise…

New conditions
Can appear before you
As a real threat
To your values, your hopes, your orientations
…all that defines you.

You stand disoriented; destabilised
By the disappearance of foundational principles;
A humiliating reminder
That all that you considered to be real
Was the false at its deceptive best.

Continuity, in the world
Operates differently.
It means continuous change
Brought about by osmosis
Truth and singularity are not its virtues
And yet dishonesty and susceptibility cannot be yours…

Is the world nothing but an illusion?
Is your individuality an illusion?
To adapt means to let go
(Sometimes with great spirit)–
Of your definitions… your ideas… your certainties.
Because those are the real illusions.

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Beauty’s Designation

The Beautiful is the teacher
Of the Philosophical.

Apprehending beauty
Is the dawn of understanding.

Expressing beauty
Is the awakening of knowledge

Living as its instrument
Is our pilgrimage to wisdom.

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What is Love?

Love is indefinable
But it needs to be explained
Lest we begin to define it
In terms of our bittersweet experiences;
In terms of what it never was–
An artefact of our desires.

Love,
Even if it were a thing
Would not be the thing in itself
But the spirit that lends itself
To a constitution and
Makes perceptible a harmony.

It’s the melody in a song
It’s the fragrance that emanates
From a flower and then
Fills up the air that surrounds it.
It is the intensity within emotion
That is distinct from the emotion itself.

Our very being is love.
And to the extent we are free
From the hunger and thirst of the heart;
From the endless wanting of the mind–
To that extent we are able
To express our love.

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Who Are You?

In a sea of people
You are a wave.

In a country of hopes
You are an expectation.

In a family with needs
You are a sustainer

In an institution of faith
You are belief.

In a group of equals
You are a voice.

Amongst ‘forever friends’
You are comfort and company.

In an industry and the economy
You are a resource.

In passing time
You are a memory.

In changing reality
You are a constant.

In being and becoming
You are but a witness.

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Not in the Resumé

For every hour
That one has lived…
Enjoyed… endured…
There has been
The eventual triumph
Of reason, relationships and resolve.

What greater proof of one’s abilities
Than their having lived
Without losing love and hope…
And having sustained their families
Their passions, their disciplines…
Their faith.

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Home

What you return to is home.
It’s not just the familiarity
Of things and routines…
It is their specific melody.
It’s not just the people
Who fill it with warmth and cheer,
It’s the belongingness
Within relationships.
Home is where you feel most at rest.

A home is made
Little by little,
Moment by moment,
Prayer by prayer…
With silent resolve
But more than that,
With faith–
That our home is our temple…
It’s where our devotion lives.