This wonderful piece inspired a poem. The poem describes that' a pause' is only a loud moment in my being. Spiritual it may be, the wonderous pause, all it is, is a note in my own melody. But silence, that is all there is, and ever will be. It's this melody of silence that the cosmos sings.
Lately, I am glee, knowing I ‘am’ my own doom.
Ah, a way I long for -
A pause, I hope,
A moment, I pray,
A breath is all.
Doom Doom.
What is the noise?
I long…
All these things they just happen,
I experience…
Doom—Doom.
Aha, so it’s me? I experience?
I long, I hope, I wait…
While I entertain the chatter,
In my experience it stays.
I am my own doom.
As long as I am -
The roars will grow and pause and grow.
But they will always be -
The search is vain, and in vain.
Now I know I never need to wear a frown-
I am my own doom.
Doom doom I end,
A moment I was
Now silence is all.
Silence can be.
Cause silence always was.
Lately, I am glee, knowing I ‘am’ my own doom.
The wonderful writing inspired this poem. The poem tells me pause is just me, a loud moment of me. The Silence, now she IS, and that's all there is...
Lately, I am glee, knowing I ‘am’ my own doom.
Doom Doom.
Ah, way I long for-
A pause, I hope,
A moment I pray,
A breath is all.
What is the noise?
I long...
All these things they just happen,
I experience.
Aha, so its me? I experience?
I long, I hope, I wait
While I entertain the chatter- in my experience, it stays.
I am my own doom.
As long as I am; the roars will grow and pause and grow.
But they will always be
Now I know I never need to wear a frown,
I am my own doom.
Doom-doom , I end, a moment-
Now silence is all.
Silence can be.
Cause silence always was.
Lately, I am glee, knowing I ‘am’ my own doom.
'Letting go of the notions of blame and self-pity', as harsh as it might sound, I like how the author reminds us of this.
For forgiveness to exist, there must be some mental weighing scale, one that I manage and control. To imply I forgive is to decide the scale is unbalanced, slightly tilted, lifting my existence higher than the other. But can this really be? An act alone may be dharmic or adharmic. But the doer and experiencer come from the same source.
I tell myself, I am mistaken to think I am somewhat greater if I experience adharma and with this belief, I hold myself to never blame. But I do take self-pity on occasion, which is silly. Pity holds me to the past; it makes what happened continue to live on and impinge upon my current experience. How is that helpful? I want to live now. So why make room for the experience to live on? Why self-pity, I remind myself, ever so often.
In the vedic/sanskrit culture, the word kshama is used to speak of the quality of forgiveness. I learned today that Kshama does not mean forgiveness. It simply means releasing oneself from the theoretical function of time.
The brain is a physical perception center designed to inform by capturing boundaries and identifying patterns within them. The absence of vibrations within the human perceptible auditory range is generally defined as silence. Per this, silence is but a gap, an auditorily imperceivable gap.
The author, I think, speaks of a different silence. The kind that's not heard, it's not even felt. For its not what the brain can know, it's that which engulfs. The kind that's not born in those gaps, it's born in the freedom of acceptance. The kind that does not have a listener, all it has is love. The kind that just IS.
For them in the prairies, their body, mind, and intellect work seamlessly to the rhythm of the wind. So much so there is no 'wind and them' --the 'wind is them'.
i hope i find that silence where I will lose i.
This reading humbled me. It made me think I do not understand my own beginning nor do I live each moment like my end is assured. How silly of me? While I can fancy myself, and speak of those unfathomable worlds and dimensions that I have read and heard, do I even know who I am?
This remind me of 2 questions from the infamous 39 Q’n’A between Yaksha and Yudishthira, from the Mahabharata. Yaksha asks Yudishthira ‘What is truly the most amazing thing in the world?’. He replies ‘The most amazing thing is, though Humans are mortal, everybody goes about their life as if they are going to be here forever.’ Another question the Yaksha asks is ‘What is Pride?’. For this he replies ‘When a man thinks he’s the one who is the does of life’.
The two responses together convey something so beautiful. It's truly a gift to live life like its forever, but oftentimes when we are so caught up in this thought, we easily forget 'The gift of life'. We assume ourselves to be the doer. In a similar tone, Hine captures the sentiment of the unconsidered fragility of life that we so often forget. Life is here today, let me love like it's forever but live like there is no tomorrow. For i(me) know not the I(doer).
This reading humbled me. It made me think I do not understand my own beginning nor do I love love each moment like my end is assured. How silly of me? While I can fancy myself, assume intelligence and speak of those unfathomable worlds and dimensions that I have read and heard, do I even know who I am?
This remind me of 2 questions from the infamous 39 Q’n’A between Yaksha and Yudishthira, from the Mahabharata. Yaksha asks Yudishthira ‘What is truly the most amazing thing in the world?’. He replies ‘The most amazing thing is, though Humans are mortal, everybody goes about their life as if they are going to be here forever.’ Another question the Yaksha asks is ‘What is Pride?’. For this he replies ‘When a man thinks he’s the one who is the does of life’.
The two responses together convey something so profound. It's truly a gift to live life like its forever, but oftentimes when we are so caught up in this thought, we easily forget 'The gift of life'. We assume ourselves to be the doer. In a similar tone, Hine captures the sentiment of the unconsidered fragility of life that we so often forget. Life is here today, let me love like it's forever but live like there is no tomorrow. For i(me) know not the I(doer).
This reading reminds me of one of the folk sufi stories Ammamma (mother's mother) used to tell me. Later I came to know of this as "Street Light Effect" or "The Drunkard's Search". For those who are not familiar, the story goes like this, - A saint finds a man searching for a his gold coin under the street light, he thinks to help him and asks him, 'Do you know where you might have dropped it?' The man points to dark corner a few yards away and says, 'somewhere over there, I think'. The saint chuckles, 'I think I'll be on my way'.
Our true nature as the author beautifully explains is boundless. In our birth, engulfed by the convenience of the skin, the dreaminess of the mind and the quirkiness of the intellect, we forget our boundless nature. Just like when a fish is pulled out of the water, it wiggles the best it can not knowing what or how to find peace, we wiggle too. We often do not quite know what we are wiggling towards. We just know something is not right, I'll wiggle to find something. That something I do not yet have.
From Grace through the Logic of Spirituality, I know now in my mind that I need not wiggle about looking out and around. I only need to slip within. My source is within, I am no fish looking for water. I am the ocean. But but..all this is only words (Paroksha Jnanam - intellectual assent) until I drop my act of 'The Drunkard Search' and muster up the courage to walk to that deep dark corner where I lost me, and have faith that i will find I (Aparoksha jnanam - actualization). i have a way to go.
I used to wonder as a child, am ‘I truly helping?’ If I am unhappy when it goes unnoticed. Why does it make me uncomfortable to want words of acknowledgment, whether it be a thank you or a praise. I came understand why was when I heard the verse “vita-raga-bhaya-krodha man-maya mam upasritah bahavo jnana-tapasa puta mad-bhavam agatah”. From then on, I try to observe my mind and intellect, before I engage, I ask myself am I choosing this act to receive rather than to just give.
On Mar 14, 2024 Nithya wrote on As Way Opens, by Carrie Newcomer: