Poem 1: An Entrance
by Malena Morling
In the city
of leaks
and ghosts
just past
The Casket
Company
on Van Rennselaer
Street
there is a
building
with its front
entrace
cemented
shut.
And just
above it
are the words:
"No Trespassing."
Poem 2: Sunflower
by Federico Garcia Lorca
If I did love a cyclops
I would swoon
beneath his stronger gaze
sans eyelids.
O fiery sunflower, ay!
Poem 3: Sheba's Hesitation
by Rumi (of course)
Lovers of God, sometimes a door opens,
and a human being becomes a way
for grace to come through.
I see various herbs in the kitchen garden,
each with its own bed, garlic, capers, saffron,
and basil, each watered differently to help it mature.
We keep the delicate ones separate from the turnips,
but there's room for all in this unseen world, so vast
that the Arabian desert gets lost in it like a single hair
in the ocean. Imagine that you are Sheba
trying to decide whether to go to Solomon!
You're haggling about how much to pay
for shoeing a donkey, when you could be seated
with one who is always in union with God,
who carries a beautiful garden inside himself.
You could be moving in a circuit without wing,
nourished without eating, sovereign without a throne.
No longer subject to fortune, you could be luck itself,
if you would rise from sleep, leave
the market arguing, and learn that
your own essence is your wealth.
by Malena Morling
In the city
of leaks
and ghosts
just past
The Casket
Company
on Van Rennselaer
Street
there is a
building
with its front
entrace
cemented
shut.
And just
above it
are the words:
"No Trespassing."
Poem 2: Sunflower
by Federico Garcia Lorca
If I did love a cyclops
I would swoon
beneath his stronger gaze
sans eyelids.
O fiery sunflower, ay!
Poem 3: Sheba's Hesitation
by Rumi (of course)
Lovers of God, sometimes a door opens,
and a human being becomes a way
for grace to come through.
I see various herbs in the kitchen garden,
each with its own bed, garlic, capers, saffron,
and basil, each watered differently to help it mature.
We keep the delicate ones separate from the turnips,
but there's room for all in this unseen world, so vast
that the Arabian desert gets lost in it like a single hair
in the ocean. Imagine that you are Sheba
trying to decide whether to go to Solomon!
You're haggling about how much to pay
for shoeing a donkey, when you could be seated
with one who is always in union with God,
who carries a beautiful garden inside himself.
You could be moving in a circuit without wing,
nourished without eating, sovereign without a throne.
No longer subject to fortune, you could be luck itself,
if you would rise from sleep, leave
the market arguing, and learn that
your own essence is your wealth.
Hi! It is a three-poem night, which you may or may not be glad to know differs a little bit from a Three Dog Night. I have been reading a piece from Shambhala Sun, which my father once jokingly referred to as my "lesbian buddhist" magazine, because he didn't know what to do with its cover photo of a shaved-headed female teacher. I'm guessing it was Pema Chodron, a favorite speaker and writer of mine. (Just to be clear, no lesbians or Buddhists were harmed in the making of my family. It was a joke. A joke! At least, that's what I'm telling myself.)
I have been interested in Eastern teachings ever since I can remember. I don't know if it was passed down from my brother, or if was always something we both leaned towards. I remember calling him once and asking what he was reading. He replied, The Art of Happiness, by (His Holiness) the Dalai Lama. The next time I called, I was delighted to learn that he had put down The Art of Happiness for a finance book that in my mind was, How to Get Rich and Retire Young, although I can't actually find a book with this title. I may get in big trouble for writing all this, but this combination of true heart and honest earthliness is one of the reasons I love my big brother so, and find his company genius.
Anyway, that was a sidebar. The real reason I am writing is to share the tiniest image in this article I read tonight called "Smile at Fear: Teachings on Bravery, Open Heart & Basic Goodness." In the article, adapted from talks Pema Chodron gave on Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche's book, Smile at Fear, Pema Chodron says, "Fear is like a dot that emerges in the space in front of us and captures our attention." She goes on to say that it is like a doorway that go one of two ways: to awareness or to more fear. Actually, you should read the article to see what she says about it, because I lost focus when this image of fear as a tiny dot was introduced. It sort of blew my mind, to see fear as this pin prick of a black dot in the air, something so tiny that it is almost a dust particle, but something that, when focused upon, expands and expands until it opens up like a rabbit hole and our mind jumps in, followed by our sweet body, and our whole heart and all of our good intentions, and everything gets tumbled and scrambled and sort of lost.
The article actually talks about befriending our fears - "touching" them, as a path to befriending and loving ourselves unconditionally, as you would a friend. (But how many friends do you really love unconditionally? As I contemplate this, it occurs to me that I might have some work to do in the unconditionals department - for myself and others.) Instead of thinking about befriending fears, however, I was thinking about that damned dot, and how completely humongous I can let my fears become. Pema talks about the pointlessness of running away from fear, or disguising it, or numbing ourselves from it. But I just kept thinking about how small that dot could be, and how big I sometimes make mine.
I was talking about fear with a friend today. We said, "Why so hard to stay in the heart? Heart, why you so hard to befriend?" The truth, of course, or it seems this way to me, is that it is MUCH harder to be out of the heart than to be in it, but it is more acceptible to be out of it. If we aren't watching, acceptability - rather than sincerity - becomes our training.
I want to pause to say that, of course, this isn't everyone's training. The majority generally rules in the world, but I know children being raised with the most intentional, supportive parents, children who are truly wild and open beings, and I know LOTS of open, loving teachers - including my own family members. I want to be very clear about this. World, I believe in you! It's verrry easy to bemoan, bemoan. And yet, I come for something different. A little sumthin called LOVE. Just kidding. About the tone, I mean. But otherwise, I'm very serious!
Pema Chodron gorgeously defines spiritual warriorship as "working on ourselves, developing courage and fearlessness and cultivating our capacity to love and care about other people." Wowwee wow. So lovely. At the end of the article, there is an exerpty- thing from Chogyam Trungpa's Smile At Fear book, which describes "The Tender Heart of the Warrior." He writes, "Warriorship is so tender, without skin, without tissue, naked and raw...You have renounced growing a thick, hard skin. You are willing to expose naked flesh, bone, and marrow to the world."
Anyway, that was a sidebar. The real reason I am writing is to share the tiniest image in this article I read tonight called "Smile at Fear: Teachings on Bravery, Open Heart & Basic Goodness." In the article, adapted from talks Pema Chodron gave on Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche's book, Smile at Fear, Pema Chodron says, "Fear is like a dot that emerges in the space in front of us and captures our attention." She goes on to say that it is like a doorway that go one of two ways: to awareness or to more fear. Actually, you should read the article to see what she says about it, because I lost focus when this image of fear as a tiny dot was introduced. It sort of blew my mind, to see fear as this pin prick of a black dot in the air, something so tiny that it is almost a dust particle, but something that, when focused upon, expands and expands until it opens up like a rabbit hole and our mind jumps in, followed by our sweet body, and our whole heart and all of our good intentions, and everything gets tumbled and scrambled and sort of lost.
The article actually talks about befriending our fears - "touching" them, as a path to befriending and loving ourselves unconditionally, as you would a friend. (But how many friends do you really love unconditionally? As I contemplate this, it occurs to me that I might have some work to do in the unconditionals department - for myself and others.) Instead of thinking about befriending fears, however, I was thinking about that damned dot, and how completely humongous I can let my fears become. Pema talks about the pointlessness of running away from fear, or disguising it, or numbing ourselves from it. But I just kept thinking about how small that dot could be, and how big I sometimes make mine.
I was talking about fear with a friend today. We said, "Why so hard to stay in the heart? Heart, why you so hard to befriend?" The truth, of course, or it seems this way to me, is that it is MUCH harder to be out of the heart than to be in it, but it is more acceptible to be out of it. If we aren't watching, acceptability - rather than sincerity - becomes our training.
I want to pause to say that, of course, this isn't everyone's training. The majority generally rules in the world, but I know children being raised with the most intentional, supportive parents, children who are truly wild and open beings, and I know LOTS of open, loving teachers - including my own family members. I want to be very clear about this. World, I believe in you! It's verrry easy to bemoan, bemoan. And yet, I come for something different. A little sumthin called LOVE. Just kidding. About the tone, I mean. But otherwise, I'm very serious!
Pema Chodron gorgeously defines spiritual warriorship as "working on ourselves, developing courage and fearlessness and cultivating our capacity to love and care about other people." Wowwee wow. So lovely. At the end of the article, there is an exerpty- thing from Chogyam Trungpa's Smile At Fear book, which describes "The Tender Heart of the Warrior." He writes, "Warriorship is so tender, without skin, without tissue, naked and raw...You have renounced growing a thick, hard skin. You are willing to expose naked flesh, bone, and marrow to the world."
Now that I write it, that last part sounds a little alien-movie/Die-Hard 3: lots of flesh and guts and face parts ripping around everywhere. But I really dig the emphasis on tenderness, and that word itself is so tender. I also am taken with the image and idea of renouncing your shield.
The whole article is an address of unconditional friendship to oneself. Holy hard task, batman! But worth a shot, right? What else are we here for, but to love. And how can we fully love another until we can give the same grace to ourselves?
It is time for bed, but before the dreams begin, I leave you with an image and a lyric from my favorite band in the cosmos (zee Wilco). No laughing at my grandma-like understanding of how to post pictures on this blog, please. The lyric is somewhat risky, because if you think of your emotions as the seat of your heart, the lyric sounds like a betrayal. But if you think of your heart as the seat of truth, and emotions as the dust particles and sea waves that are part of the whole kerblanging cosmos, then it can be like a renunciation of panic with eye toward the pie, everything a remembrance of peace, peace, peace.
The whole article is an address of unconditional friendship to oneself. Holy hard task, batman! But worth a shot, right? What else are we here for, but to love. And how can we fully love another until we can give the same grace to ourselves?
It is time for bed, but before the dreams begin, I leave you with an image and a lyric from my favorite band in the cosmos (zee Wilco). No laughing at my grandma-like understanding of how to post pictures on this blog, please. The lyric is somewhat risky, because if you think of your emotions as the seat of your heart, the lyric sounds like a betrayal. But if you think of your heart as the seat of truth, and emotions as the dust particles and sea waves that are part of the whole kerblanging cosmos, then it can be like a renunciation of panic with eye toward the pie, everything a remembrance of peace, peace, peace.
i thought this three poem night was VERY SIMILAR to a three dog night. you're so funny, lighthearted, and deeply seeking (an adjective?) at the same time. i love it.
ReplyDelete