The Suns of Poetry

For some, poetry aims highly at several things. As an art form it uses language in new and creative ways to express ideas and emotions; it creates its own vocabulary for expression of some of our deepest thoughts and feelings. The poet is, in the words of Indian teacher and mystic, Sri Aurobindo, the result of the harmonizing of
"five perennial powers: truth, beauty, joy, life and spirit." The one he terms, the "poet-seer" is someone who "sees differently, who thinks in another way... the poet shows us truth within its power of beauty, in its symbol or image, reveals it to us..."

Poets seek to illumine, to amplify or lift up in words, images and symbols in the way the visual artist does with his drawings or designs. For Aurobindo the term life carries further meaning than its base, scientific sense. In its use, Aurobindo means to signify "the life of feelings and passions. The inner life, which is infinite." Poets as seers and sages are gifted with the ability to perceive and elucidate upon those facets of living which many feel but can derive no words for meaning. The poet is much loved for the giving of words to otherwise unexpressed longings of ones' heart. Poetry then is the heart of the heart. Sri Aurobindo makes this clear when he writes about matters of truth, beauty and joy:

 Because Thou Art

Because Thou art All-beauty and All-bliss,

My soul blind and enamored yearns for Thee; 

It bears Thy mystic touch in all that is 

And thrills with the burden of that ecstasy. 

Behind all eyes I meet Thy secret gaze 

And in each voice I hear Thy magic tune: 

Thy sweetness haunts my heart through Nature's ways;

 Nowhere it beats now from Thy snare immune. 

It loves Thy body in all living things; 

Thy joy is there in every leaf and stone: 

The moments bring Thee on their fiery wings; 

Sight's endless artistry is Thou alone
Time voyages with Thee upon its prow
And all the future's passionate hope is Thou.

--Sri Aurobindo

The complete Works of Sri Aurobindo 


 

Gathering Communities

We gather together to work, to learn, to grow; we gather into communities, towns, universities. People everywhere, they live in groups, they live in families; they cherish their friends and they spend time together, supporting and enjoying their ways and their company. We get sick, we go to hospitals to help us recover.
What all these things have in common, with each of us in our everyday lives, is that inescapable fact that humanity, as a species, seems hard wired for gathering.

 Into groups we collect and revel. Together. It all seems so natural. Why, by working together, supporting and accomplishing worthwhile tasks, what could be better?
The person who lives stalwartly alone, who is friendless, who has very little or no community to speak of, that is a person often pitied and eyed suspiciously. We exclaim, "are they ill? Why are they such loners?"
This all makes simple sense. It seems so natural to gather, to enjoy the company of our brothers and sisters, our loves and loved here on earth.
Yet when the matter turns to named things such as 'religion', many of us recoil. Why? Well, it seems we don't think to belong after all. Some don't want to belong. Thus reinventing the 'spiritual' wheel is okay.

In fact, it's better than okay. It may be for these persons, the only way to demonstrate their will to 'pull themselves up by the bootstraps.' Many among us think, in spiritual terms, that there are aliens around us, to be avoided at all costs.
Infected with perhaps a strong sense of humanist enlightenment, a person with such notions eschews anything of community within the context of faith.

Yet if a faith community is true, existing for a higher purpose, for the common good, then it is, it must be and it will do something. Let me say this again: Churches, mosques, temples, ashrams and so forth exist because they do something for others.
If they do not, they they exist not for long. Communities survive and thrive because of the activities of each of its constituents. What each of us contributes to the good of all, is the community.

It is this fact that escapes many in the blog-sphere. Simply talking isn't sufficient, nor are kind thoughts or nice words and graphics. Communities must do something, and religious communities continue and persist for this very simple reason!
 Join the collective, engage in acts of social justice. Learn about yourself from another's eyes.
Help a friend. Be a community, be a support.

Uniquely You

Emotions, and the openness to the inter-twining of them  to discern a sense of deep spirit, a personal sense of the uniquely form  you, is a central task in the spiritual life.
As many religious thinkers have written, it is in the opening of the self, the stillness of the mind that what is essential arises, that enlightenment becomes possible; yet it is not as a striving or as a goal, but as the natural result of a lived life.
By experiences we learn the meaning of ourselves in the world; the oneness of all in our place is what Moore in his books seeks to examine.

He writes that it is not intellect ultimately, but living knowledge that makes a self. Yet, he does at times, fall into philosophical banter. That is his background and his training.
As a Roman Catholic,Moore came of age in the time before the "great transformation" of the Church, before Vatican II, before the rise of Pope John Paul II. His experiences may be unlike other's. Despite this, he offers valuable wisdom about the simplest and yet most complex of life, the human mind.
Writing in his book, The Care of the Soul Moore addresses the deep soul as found in the "emotions, relationships and culture... a way to be spiritual that is honest, close to physical life and emotion... [not]the opposite of spirituality [which] is escape... [Life] is to be made sense of in the depths of experience, in the never ending efforts to make sense of life, and in the ordeals that can be seen as spiritual initiations rather than failures to achieve a self."

In his book, Thomas Moore allows, he searches out within the great tangle of human emotion, of perceptions and feelings, the great  impossible, the paradoxical, and the apparent failures that seem to comprise one's life.
He recommends in response to human emotional suffering "a shift from cure to caring." Trying to be cured might be another type of perfectionism. In the human life, when seen as a sort of comedy, we all fail, we all fall on our faces. Taking ourselves so seriously, we forget that it is human to fail, it is human not to be perfect. 
And it is human to love, even that what we don't fully understand, even that we see as lacking, like a child; still we love, in full knowledge of imperfection. In doing so, we may ultimately learn of a holy foolishness which broadens and deepens our spirituality, making the self more resilient, more durable in the process.

One of the ways through this life process is by emptiness, Sunyata. Moore describes the empty self as not a loss, but a liberation, an opening for the possible. "Spiritual emptiness doesn't lead to resignation, or depression... it gives hope, frees us from anxiety...free from having to be in control."
Yet emptiness doesn't work if it becomes a project, to be controlled and directed. Emptiness is an active stillness, an allowance of what is, or may be.
 It is the perception that an angry bull is charging to you in an arena and stepping aside rather than confronting as it passes by. "Emptiness itself has to be empty." As a way, it is both an art and a practice.

The Most Personal Words

"Words become more personal the more emotional they are."  The Path to Love by Deepak Chopra

In loving practice, the "most valuable things you can learn about yourself  is what you mean by the words, 'I love you'." The phrase is complex because it involves you, says Chopra.  
This phrase has both past and present contained within; it is filled with self-expectation, and expectations for others. 
Some of these may be painful. In reflecting on the meaning of the phrase, it is both helpful and creative to actually 'brain storm' and write down words which you freely associate with 'I love you.' Chopra then asks his reader to reflect on the type of words and person(s) associated with them who surface in your unique list; he interprets for his reader.

Bringing the conversation back to the basis in Dharma, there exists a deep mystery of the 'soul,' one which is not easily defined or perceived. For in love, there is the 'blending' of soul, two making something which one is not alone. This creation forms uniquely between the two. What began as 'me' is now 'us' or 'we.'
The realization of an 'us' or a 'we' forms "the essence of surrender." Being in Dharma makes 'us' or 'we,' a possible reality by healing a sense of separation. There is a sense of a unified spirit acting in the best interests of the Oneness. This is not just rhetoric.
When you come from love, unity allows a clear view of another's viewpoint. You understand the one who is not exactly your self, and not yet so very different from you.

There is another meaning to surrender. It is the falling into what you deeply desire. The spirit "frames it as, 'I see that you need me." It is the process that is essential; the focus is just that moment to moment experience. The outcome is less critical. 
 "Spirit has no such ulterior motives. It acknowledges the other person's need, but it neither takes responsibility for that need nor denies it."
It accepts, even if you may not immediately understand. So the need that we most have is to be seen (known, recognized), to be invited, and to be welcome in our own daily life as we move through our dharma. The absence of these things is the source of much of alienation in modern life. Surrendering in the spirit of service gives "rise to joy."

All great religious traditions point to the Way, the spiritual path by that tradition. Often these ways are counter-cultural; they may be radical or culturally subversive. They ask for risk, for forward movement into places initially mysterious or even frightening; for outcomes which we cannot initially foresee. They may even seem to lead to death of a certain kind.
The "Vedas teach that human beings are capable of personal evolution." So Kali may not actually be Kali, nor Lord Siva, Siva.
When we are confused, we are out of dharma; if we refuse synchronicity, our path loses focus; we temporally lose our way. Everything happens in an ordered fashion. The way of dharma sees to that.

 Chopra continues his point. He writes that "love and attachment aren't the same thing...Isn't it love when you share your world with someone else? ...be exclusive in this way?
The answer is surprising, the deeper you  look, the more you will see love and attachment are not the same thing." Love, he says allows freedom of the Beloved to be unlike you.
Attachment seeks conformity; Love imposes no particular demands.
Attachment expresses overwhelmingly an 'urge to merge.' Love expands and includes; attachment wishes to exclude all others. It is possessive; it's jealous.
"The seduction of attachment is a feeling of security from the outside world." However that may be what deadens and insulates us.
But for some, it also prompts a cloying feeling, a paradox which jump-starts one, propelling them back into life itself.

Dreams, Living Your "Unlived" Life

In the culturing process, the many decisions of our parents and childhood caretakers become habits, and they become our own when adults. The mind has a terrific repertoire of past behavior accrued over time and stored until the precise moment when needed. These actions, memories or past, form a bulk of our coping skills in adult life.
For many they are trusty and reliable responses to ordinary life events, things like dealing with annoying people, completing tasks, organizing our schedules and taking advantage of "down time." We often think of them as "manners."

All these activities give the adult satisfaction and a sense of mastery over everyday events. one often gains a sense of security from these interactions; as a person matures, more experiences accrue and more strategies are learned, stored and used as needed.
For many if not most, there comes a point in time when we are no longer marking time as "from when I was born until the present," but rather time is more as "from the present moment to my death." This shift in perception is gradual, usually occurring in the 40's and becoming louder as the 50th decade and beyond approaches.

Those trusty old solutions, those experiences of the past may no longer suit. What once was a brilliant maneuver at age 25 is not so now. Life is more lived, and the past while possibly remembered fondly now is more nuanced, more characterized. Something new is often in order.
The goal is not the elimination of patterned views and responses; growing maturity may call for a re-examination of previously disregarded choices or pathways.

Yet this can lead to major disruption or even financial ruin of a lifetime of gain. So many busy themselves with other things, staving off the gnawing thought in the back of the mind, that a path once contemplated, such as travel, further study or a career move might, still, make sense.
Writing partly from personal experience and partly from a professional perspective authors R. Johnson and J. Ruhl write in their book, Living Your Unlived Life that loosening up on the reins of life, "give us more freedom of choice, to regain access to lost resources that are essential to a fulfilling life."
The paradox of identity is that identity is fluid over a lifetime, more than something rigid or habitual. Even so, we rely on the patterns of the previous to make our current experiences coherent.

And while these patterns and structures are necessary and in a large degree helpful, they are also, "over time becoming boundaries, restricting our freedom and narrowing our experience." Relying then on the familiar, we do feel often worn out, tired or stressed. As the saying, 'same old thing' kicks in, "by mid-life your identity is the institutionalization of your past," writes Johnson.
The antidote Johnson says may lie in several places, but one thing he assures the reader is that by this time in life whatever the solution, it indeed lies within.
Carl Jung, Johnson's mentor, wrote that it is "a mistake to fear that the truths and values of earlier adulthood are no longer relevant; they have just become relative-- they aren't universally true."

Becoming re-acquainted with your inner life, the who, how and whys of your existence may make you feel a bit of a teen again, but it will also give you new awareness and updated solutions to events in your life. The authors give much, much more detail and introduce the concept of "active imagination" as a real and effective tool for growth.
Johnson insists that it may effectively quell moods, mental stresses and other psychic disorders if practiced effectively and consistently. This technique as explained incorporates ones' dreams, imaginings and conscious thoughts as part of its method.