Saturday, July 25, 2020

Chuck Surface - Grace

 Grace is the Ocean flowing into the river,
Not the other way ‘round.

Grace is The Destination Arriving at you,
When you have not yet arrived.

Grace is an impossible Blossoming,
While you are yet still a bud.

Grace is being Discovered,
By that which you sought to discover.

Grace is being Embraced,
By that which you sought to embrace.

Grace is being Possessed by Perfection,
While you are yet far from Perfect.

Grace is Love, drawn to Itself, Here...
In the Heart of your Deepest Interiority.


Thursday, July 23, 2020

Rumi ♡ Listen to this reed (narrated)

In the name of God, The Merciful, The Compassionate    

    Listen to this reed how it complains, telling a tale of separations   
    Saying, “Ever since I was parted from the reed-bed, my lament hath caused man and woman to moan.   
    I want a bosom torn by severance, that I may unfold (to such a one) the pain of love-desire.   
    Every one who is left far from his source wishes back the time when he was united with it.   
    In every company I uttered my wailful notes, I consorted with the unhappy and with them that rejoice.   
    Every one became my friend from his own opinion; none sought out my secrets from within me.   
    My secret is not far from my plaint, but ear and eye lack the light (whereby it should be apprehended).   
    Body is not veiled from soul, nor soul from body, yet none is permitted to see the soul.   
    This noise of the reed is fire, it is not wind: whoso hath not this fire, may he be naught!   
    ’Tis the fire of Love that is in the reed, ’tis the fervour of Love that is in the wine.   
    The reed is the comrade of every one who has been parted from a friend: its strains pierced our hearts.   
    Who ever saw a poison and antidote like the reed? Who ever saw a sympathiser and a longing lover like the reed?   
    The reed tells of the Way full of blood and recounts stories of the passion of Majnún.   
    Only to the senseless is this sense confided: the tongue hath no customer save the ear.   
    In our woe the days (of life) have become untimely: our days travel hand in hand with burning griefs.   
    If our days are gone, let them go!—’tis no matter. Do Thou remain, for none is holy as Thou art!   
    Whoever is not a fish becomes sated with His water; whoever is without daily bread finds the day long.   
    None that is raw understands the state of the ripe: therefore my words must be brief. Farewell!   
    O son, burst thy chains and be free! How long wilt thou be a bondsman to silver and gold?   
    If thou pour the sea into a pitcher, how much will it hold? One day's store.   
    The pitcher, the eye of the covetous, never becomes full: the oyster-shell is not filled with pearls until it is contented.   
    He (alone) whose garment is rent by a (mighty) love is purged of covetousness and all defect.   
    Hail, O Love that bringest us good gain—thou that art the physician of all our ills,   
    The remedy of our pride and vainglory, our Plato and our Galen!   
    Through Love the earthly body soared to the skies: the mountain began to dance and became nimble.   
    Love inspired Mount Sinai, O lover, (so that) Sinai (was made) drunken and Moses fell in a swoon.   
    Were I joined to the lip of one in accord with me, I too, like the reed, would tell all that may be told;   
    (But) whoever is parted from one who speaks his language becomes dumb, though he have a hundred songs.   
    When the rose is gone and the garden faded, thou wilt hear no more the nightingale's story.   
    The Beloved is all and the lover (but) a veil; the Beloved is living and the lover a dead thing.   
    When Love hath no care for him, he is left as a bird without wings. Alas for him then!   
    How should I have consciousness (of aught) before or behind when the light of my Beloved is not before me and behind?   
    Love wills that this Word should be shown forth: if the mirror does not reflect, how is that?   
    Dost thou know why the mirror (of thy soul) reflects nothing? Because the rust is not cleared from its face.   
    O my friends, hearken to this tale: in truth it is the very marrow of our inward state.


Wednesday, July 22, 2020

Rumi ♡ Abandon this world

Abandon this world
That you may become King of all worlds.
Throw away your handful of sugar
That you may become a sugar field.

Leap like a flame through the sky.
Scatter the dark spirits
and become the pillar of heaven.

When Noah sails upon the flooding waters
you will be his ark.
When the Prophet ascends to heaven
you will be his ladder.
When Jesus walks among the weary souls
you will be his healing breath.
When Moses goes forth as a shepherd
you will be his staff.

A divine fire blazes within you.
Don't jump back like a coward.
Cook in the fire!
Bake like bread!
Soon you'll be the prize of every table,
the life-giving food of every soul.

Walk patiently through this troubled world
and you'll find a great treasure.
Even though your house is small, look within it;
you will find the secrets
of the unseen world.

I asked, "Why have I received only this?"
A voice replied,
"Only this will lead you to That!"

No more words from my mouth.
I didn't come here to wag my chin,
I came here to chew on sugar-cane.

-- Version by Jonathan Star
"Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved "
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997

Monday, July 20, 2020

Joan Tollifson - Beholding

I love the word beholding because it contains both the sense of being the aware space that is holding everything and also the sense of BEING everything. In the word beholding, subject and object are not two.

The discovery that I am not encapsulated inside a separate body, that I am this boundless aware space in which everything appears and disappears, is enormously liberating. Noticing and discerning when my speaking (or hearing) comes from the perspective of a separate person, and when it comes from the impersonal spaciousness of this open aware presence is immensely helpful. Being aware of awareness, aware of Here-Now, and discovering the felt-sense of BEING this boundless presence is vital.

But if we fixate there and mentally solidify “awareness” or “presence” into some-thing, this initially liberating discovery can lead to a new kind of duality or splitting. The “me” tries to identify as awareness and to disengage from the content of awareness, regarding the one as spiritual and real, and the other as mundane and unreal. Recognizing that there is actually no separation, that this awaring presence IS this present experiencing, is very liberating.

In this nondual recognition, it is clear that this living reality is at once both whole and infinitely diversified. It is at once ever-present, immovably Here-Now, while simultaneously being ever-changing in appearance and never the same way twice. It is utterly ungraspable and unresolvable, and yet it is totally obvious and impossible to actually avoid or overlook. It is not one, not two—neither permanent nor impermanent.

Whatever words we use to describe this living reality, it can never be captured in any word or conceptual formulation. Words are beautiful movements of this inconceivable unicity, much as waves are movements of the ocean, but it's possible to hold all words and concepts lightly, to use them provisionally, and to open to (or rest as) the bare actuality of this awaring presence, this present experiencing, without trying to grasp it, make sense of it, control it or define it, except in practical ways, as needed.

Words like liberation point to the possibility of living in freefall or groundlessness, depending on no-thing, falling open to the simplicity of simply being what is, beholding it all without judgment or intention. And, of course, this openness isn’t some permanent state of mind that some "me" can land in forever after—it is this whole living reality Here-Now that includes EVERYTHING, every state of mind, even judging, defining, grasping, mapping, conceptualizing, identifying as a separate self, being confused—the whole enchilada, belonging to no one. Nothing is left out. This that we are is beholding everything. No separation, no division.