To understand you

.

‘Tomorrow Is Beautiful: The perfect poetry collection for anyone searching for a beautiful world …’

remember, you do not have to understand any of these poems to engage with them; in fact the converse is true: the job of these poems is to understand you

Sarah Crossan

from her anthology
Tomorrow Is Beautiful

Earlier today I held this lovely anthology in my hands and breathed ‘thank you.’ Thank you for the poems, of course. But thank you, a huge thank you, to the compiler, Sarah Crossan, for her introduction, and within it one of the best lines I’ve read about poetry: ‘the job of these poems is to understand you.’

Do you remember, at 4 or 5, ‘knowing’ that Tip and Mitten and Peter and Jane were your personal friends? And that, later, those adventures with ‘The Famous Five’ were liveable, breathable events in your own life? And mine? These stories existed to have something to do with, something to say to, something to understand about, you. And me. But, as they say, ‘time goes by’ – and sometimes we forget.

Today, between these covers lie working invitations to remember – and to do what ‘poetry’ means: ‘to create.’ Calls to continuing adventure – vivified by, and excited in the knowledge that these poems are celebrating us, engaging with and encouraging us, recognising and witnessing us. We are seen. And we know ourselves loved and appreciated by those who, by means we now find hard to fathom, ‘see us’.

We know ourselves growing and illuminated from within because others, because poems, seek to understand us. And we’re thereby able to see, in advance, that ‘Tomorrow’ – something, something about tomorrow – ‘is beautiful.’

related post In the corner

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Fantasies?

.

Do I ever choose to live in
a fantasy world you asked and
I replied without a second’s
hesitation that I suppose
I must – aware of my feeling
that the sky seems to speak to me
by day and night of a wide arc
and of light and dark and colour

and vapour and warmth and ice and
art’s glad invitation to soar
to ever higher heights and leap
into untold depths of wondrous
encounter hitherto unknown –
yes I choose all of these and am
in this present stopped in my tracks:
are these choices mere fantasies?

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Protector

.

The Woman I Love

Because the Woman I love lives
Inside of you,

I lean as close to your body with my words
As I can—

And I think of you all the time, dear pilgrim.

Because the One I love goes with you
Wherever you go,
Hafiz will always be near.

If you sat before me, wayfarer,
With your aura bright from your many
Charms,

My lips could resist rushing to you and needing
To befriend your blushed cheek,

But my eyes can no longer hide
The wondrous fact of who
You Really are.

The Beautiful One whom I adore
Has pitched His royal tent inside of you,

So I will always lean my heart
As close to your soul
As I can.

Hafiz
The Subject
Tonight is Love –
60 Wild and Sweet
Poems of Hafiz

translations by
Daniel Ladinsky

Hafiz, ‘protector’ in Arabic, recognises that Love’s divine residence in another calls forth love and – seeing – exquisitely responds ‘so I will always lean my heart as close to your soul as I can.’

Imagine the future of a humankind reshaped by such a recognition, by such protection, and by that promise.

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Proportion

.

… it was deliberately chosen because it’s a dull, uninteresting piece of sky

Professor Brian Cox
on the subject of the
Hubble Telescope’s
’Deep Field’ photograph

Dull and uninteresting, it was once thought. ‘A tiny patch of sky.’ Yet it turns out that this image has captured more than 10,000 ‘blobs’ of light which are actually galaxies, and each galaxy, Professor Cox tells us, ‘contains what? Around one hundred thousand million stars.’

Quite often, upon returning home from an evening out somewhere, I’ll make a hot drink and sit down to an hour or so’s quietness – a bit of time to reflect, a check on email, a bit of scrolling, and perhaps to learn a thing or two. And so, tonight, in the course of relaxed accident, I came across a couple of reflections on Hubble’s ‘Deep Field.’

It’s a bit late at night to even begin to process the space around 100,000 million stars. I doubt that morning freshness will help much with the revelation either. But, heading for my bed, past midnight, I’m struck by what a privilege it is to be alive at such a time of discovery and reach. Struck too, and inspired, by invitation from an ever-expanding universe, to try to maintain some sense of perspective and proportion about our human condition, here on our little planet, a mere 8000 miles in diameter, with its little walls and insistences about ‘sovereignties’ and ‘facts.’ Perspective and proportion that, in the course of time, and perhaps beyond time, may quieten grandiose, human notions about our ‘greatness’ (past, present or ‘again’) – in the known presence of proportions and reach vastly greater than our present ability fully to measure, or to comprehend.

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

The gift …

.

There are souls in this world who have the gift of finding joy everywhere, and leaving it behind them when they go

F W Faber

‘Ah, but what to do if we don’t have the gift?’ I can see her now – a couple of years after our conversation. My friend was melancholy – fed up, she told me, with another friend who was ‘sickeningly joyful all the time,’ someone who reckoned to find joy wherever and whenever she looked for it …

Well, I sensed it wasn’t the time to pursue that conversation very far. And I wasn’t in the mood for an argument. But we came back to thoughts about joy a couple of weeks later. ‘What to do if we don’t have the gift?’ And it dawned on me that ‘the gift’ might be something we all have to consciously ask for, something we must deliberately seek out. So I said so.

Long story short, we both determined to ask for ‘the gift’ every day – and surprise, surprise, we have reflected many times since that joy-seeking is actually a life-changing exercise, for us and for others. There’s always some joy to be found right in front of our noses – some little and some enormous. We receive the gift of finding joy when we ask for it, and with the gift comes whole new purpose. And having purpose changes us first, and ‘our world’ as a consequence – leaving something of worth behind us as we go.

So I think it’s worth asking!

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Joy

.

I sometimes forget
that I was created for joy

My mind is too busy

My heart is too heavy
for me to remember
that I have been
called to dance
the Sacred dance of life

I was created to smile
to love
to be lifted up
and to lift others up

Oh, Sacred One
untangle my feet
from all that trap

Free my soul

that we might
dance
and that our dancing
might be infectious

Rumi

The (wonderfully international) dance group I belong to will meet for the first time after the Christmas break tomorrow evening. We’ll all have missed both the weekly dance and each other – movement and relationship that runs so much deeper than ‘just’ an evening spent on a dance floor.

One of our number circulated this ‘wisdom prayer’ from Rumi among us today. Yes, we do forget, sometimes, for all kinds of reasons, and under all kinds of different life-pressures. But then the reunions, the ‘coming to our senses’ again, chase away the clouds on even the greyest of cold, winter nights. Yes, indeed, may our dancing be infectious.

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Beholding

.

You know how it is when a paragraph leaps off a page?

Oh, wow! Look at this one. Behold this one, about beholding.

Warm, intimate, profound.

This is what we’re short of in our screen-bound, connection-scarce, modernity.

Warm, intimate, profound.

She was at the door, the light blazing in behind her, and I was beholding her. They say there is no such thing as an ordinary person …

Warm, intimate, profound.

This is poetry. This is the poetry of life. This is the something, the creation, that leaps into being when we have learned to gaze, to hold eye-contact, to truly, deeply, behold.

Warm, intimate, profound.

At a time when world politics seems to have lost the plot, when refugees are left utterly bereft and helpless, in which ‘wars and tales of war’ are ubiquitous, wherein extreme forms of ignorance and wickedness are laughed about, and even considered praiseworthy – in and among all of this we may yet learn to behold, may yet discover how to celebrate, how to be profoundly touched and grateful, how, beholding another, we may encounter ‘the richness of this particular human consciousness, the full symphony, how they perceive and create their life.’

Warm, intimate, profound.

When we behold, and are beheld, some words from Ram Dass come to resound in us …

We are all walking each other home

This is shaping up to be the most important book I’ve read in years.

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Sunday evening mellowness

.

Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared

calendar thought for the day supplied by the meditation app Aura

Reflection, by candlelight, in late evening, brings a procession of causes for gratefulness into my quietened mind. Conversation with a friend who enjoys both candlelight and quietness as much as I do. My first Feldenkrais class via Zoom. Books that draw out aha! or eureka moments on the one hand, and deep and glad recognition on the other. Creativity. Shared art. Shared imagination. Photographs made by two friends today, miles apart, but each depicting eerily beautiful morning mist in winter wonderland. Plans for comings and goings. Teamwork. Letters. Phone calls. Prayer. Celebration. Contemplation. Meditation. Daydreaming. Growing. Hoping. Learning. Longing. The illumination that relationship with others brings to life and love every day. Here in this candlelit, quiet Edinburgh night, the word ‘connection’ appears as though it were an illuminated sign before me. Connection. I am warmed and held as I think of all that can be brought to birth by a single candle contributing light to potentially thousands of others – lucky old me among them …

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Fulfilling resolve

.

Dark in Edinburgh already at 4.15pm – and of course, though we must wait awhile yet, we’re all looking forward to Spring. Meanwhile, at home tonight, warmed by the effects of an early supper and the prospect of a nice long evening ahead, I’m hoping to fulfil new year resolve …

.
.
.
.
.

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Revisiting: Illumination

woman sitting while reading a book
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

often when reading
one wonders where precisely
light is coming from

150

the above first published here on 19th February 2019

A conversation about New Year Resolutions yesterday set off a chain of thoughts about resolving. I’m amused by the thought that for as long as I can remember I’ve made, at some point in every year, a resolution to read more, to ‘make time’ to read more. This is because, I think, reading almost anything helps me to re-solve, to re-configure, to re-work almost anything! It’s like contemplation and meditation – reading brings with it a ‘sitting with,’ a lighting up of neurons, a degree of illumination.

I’m all too easily sidetracked, but some resolutions never quite let us off the hook. I’m grateful that ‘to read more’ persists in reappearing.

Photo by Rahul Pandit on Pexels.com
Photo by Dayan Rodio on Pexels.com

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

Heart to Heart

.

We Are All Born Intuitive

Let’s imagine a world where we are born pure and innocent. A world where we are open to anything and everything. A world that is an adventure of discovery from the moment of waking to the moment of sleeping. This world is our world, the only difference is our age – we are babies. For us, everything is possible and the only limitations are those set by those around us, for our imagination is free and wild and we go wherever it takes us. As babies we are naturally telepathic, because we are communicating with life through our senses. How many times have you noticed a baby look wide-mouthed and smiling at a dog walking by wagging his tail? The baby can feel the dog’s happiness. If we smile at a baby, she smiles back. If we are upset, she looks concerned. If we are angry and shout, she cries. We don’t need to tell her verbally how we are feeling; she is using her senses to receive this information. We continue to use all our senses to understand our interactions until around about the age of seven. Animals continue to use their senses for non-verbal communication all their life.

Pea Horsley
Heart to Heart

When you just know from the first lines that you are going to be changed by a new year book recommendation … (I have a hunch that David Kanigan and Wally are ahead of me on this one!)

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME

The 2nd in ‘21

.

more @gardenstudiogram | click photos to enlarge

.

How I loved these snowy Edinburgh views beneath Arthur’s Seat back in January 2021. And in January 2024 this old city just keeps growing on me! Thank you, Edinburgh – everything you are adds up to an extraordinary panorama …

.
.
.

.

archive – a list of all earlier posts

HOME