For who ? For ourselves. Did we do something, some ritual that affirmed our faith today ? In what ? In ourselves. Our ability to connect with our inner selves. For if we do not, who is this person that is working, loving, talking etc. It’s certainly not you.
It’s an everyday search for me. For that something that can put me in touch with myself. My connection to consciousness. My connection to loving nature.
Of course many people have faith. Which is a wonderful ability. I don’t have blind faith. I am more of a searcher. Questioner. Good, bad ? I don’t know. No value judgements on any faith or the question of faith. Or on myself.
Some people do it with meditation first thing in the morning. I have never been able to do that. I have to connect to something, however small, however little, to loose my sense of individuality. That’s the daily struggle. Against my own exaggarated sense of myself. I am so used to it. I have relied on it for so many years. So tough to let go now. Not that I have never questioned it before. But now, it is really important for me to be truly ‘active’ rather than ‘reactive’, which is what I have done most of my life. And how do I know what that ‘true’ action is ? Unless I am constantly in touch with something larger, more immense, more universal than myself ?
Yes I know. By letting go. By allowing yourself not to be addicted to the result of your action. By allowing chaos to invade your life. Yes, I agree. All of that. I do allow chaos to prevade in my life. I am impeteous (spelling). But then the individual in me fights back hard.
It’s an everyday battle. This battle to let go of one’s addiction to one’s sense of individuality.
Yet, the smallest of things can provoke the sensing of my flowing into something much much larger. Something infinite.
This morning it was my 5 year old daughter waking me up with a loud ‘Peekaboo’ and the tinkling of an early morning laugh.
Sometimes it;s just getting up early enough to watch the first shades of dark blue brush across the sky. Something deeply stirring about that.
Sometimes it’s unexpected gestures of affection that were not sought. Or given so instinctually that you were not aware of them.
Sometimes, it’s writing a poem. But only if the words are coming from somewhere else. As if something is flowing through you, a river of emotion you can physically feel that flows through your being.
But it is always so unexpected. So much that I am constantly aware now. My senses hightened. Waiting for that unexpected moment.
When something deeper will reach out and engulf me, and give my life, and all my actions, however small, a deeper and all encompassing context. On a daily basis.
So say a prayer for me. And for yourself.
Shekhar
Queen Elizabeth II
Rest in Peace and Love
aum
The Bhagavad Gita is its’ own battlefield
in the reading and understanding of the
meaning,
a battlefield within the
explanation of the conversation
The conversation is a battlefield…
no one explanation holds true for any sloka
choose what you Will…raise your sword of thoughts to defend,
stand still, charge towards the next line,
what to do?
How to proceed?
Those are the same words I’ve used before,
the cousins of my usual nouns and verbs
standing in punctuation as my breath
holds and rushes past the next chapter
to unfold the next instruction
Oh Bhagavad Gita,
you’ve laid down your arms
and also
stood tall and erect
all at once
ready for the great battle
of the mind…
proceed
aum
Rosh Hashanah begins today…
Much Blessings love, peace, prosperity in
good health of mind body spirit…
Shana Tovah
colonize mentality evolving towards collaborative inclusivity
and fair just treatment for all on earth…my hope
aum
Bhagavad Gita…
the journey
the pilgrimage
each letter symbol
a step onwards
forming words into long
sloka stretches in minds’ awareness
chapters to townships riding high seas
nine foot tall waves bashing against ideas
practice duty devotion
a yoga of surrender presence
eighteen universes beyond
aum
trust
rust
ust
st
t
ts
tsu
tsur
tsurt
war
raw
arw
wra
awr
rwa
seems difficult to deal with in any order
this moon
full in the rise and disappearance
hearts called from the suns’ reflection
bouncing beams reach an observer
stirring
a thought from gone memories
shared over again and again
in this brilliant light
opening pathways once walked
this moon full in its rise and disappearance
classical dance…
if dancers were to dance in a canvas
able to capture each movement
with paintbrush hands and feet
i wonder
what would the painting look like?
what is this connection
we carry with us?
no words said
no explanation
yet
your writings
thousands of miles away
tell of a state of mind
here
time travel
is time traveling?
is time a standstill and we travel past it?
is it both?
time and its travel passing by
and we leap before this or after moment
when we excel beyond the speed of time?
do we time travel when we remember something
that already happened?
and
are we ever sure if we conceive a thought
if it happened before or after we conceive it?
is there such a thing as ‘now?’
i don’t know…I think no
sometimes its easy for us to forget those who are worse off than what we see in front
of us, and what we see in front of us might very well be
what social media wants for us to see, by choice
a manner of control over our empathy for certain people?
Light Dark Both
Diwali rows of light
lit in the dark
seen in flame
felt the warmth
gazed upon the dancing fire
to the tune of the wind
ahhh the breeze of wisdom and play
tangoed mangoed yummy in tummy
Diwali dancing to life
October, 2022, 5 days of Diwali
on one of those days
diyas were placed outside the doorstep
of No 10 Downing Street
probably for the first time in 287 years
since Prime Ministers lived there,
same place where Mahatma Gandhi
stood outside, 91 years ago in a photo, 1931.
aum
resting in peace
alive
thank you
aum
You’re here
in one moment
gone
another moment
was never here
or gone
just this imagination
taking flight
and resting
again
a right to speak up
not always safe to speak up
what to say when speaking up
could be misunderstood when spoken
caution and courage speaking up
it is the quint essential motivator for change in which ever direction one wants to go
noticing the translation from
Hindi to English in the Bhagavad Gita
takes more letters and words to
explain one sloka in English
what gets lost in the translation?
how is anyone ever to know the truth?
or do we carry a truth in us that is beyond words
no matter the language?
are our feelings and intuition saying more to us
and sometimes we listen and most times we don’t?
what are we missing … I wonder
gratitude
how is it passed on to the next generation?
is it taught?
is it inspired?
is it copied from observation, still not comprehending it’s impact?
is it forced upon by ritual rule routine?
gratitude, is it felt only when compared to another’s situation?
is it a feeling of contentment and understanding?
gratitude
Anjalee’s 34th swirl around the sun today…
much love and good blessings for
better health and wellness, clarity of mind,
strength courage protection for safety and
confidence to help herself express her creative intense caring
gentle kind intuitive ways natural of her own internal compass.
May Anjalee be guided and protected by the natural elements of universe…
aum Anjalee aum
idea:
for people who are not able to have clean drinking water:
convert a dehumidifier into a system to not only absorb moisture from the air, also to filter the incoming moisture so when it’s stored in the built in collection container people could use that filtered water to drink and cook with.
who shot the first shot?
who pushed the first domino in hopes
of toppling over the rest?
did you know, if there was a larger space somewhere along the line of dominos
the toppling stops? it can go no further because the one behind it fell and wasn’t able to touch it because there was enough space between them…
one word could change the world
for the better
one word could change the world
for the worse
one word
one
what is it?
a prayer for strength courage guidance and the support needed to continue on a healthier path in mind body spirit my son aum shanti aum
THE WELL OF GRIEF
those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief
turning down through it’s black water
to the place we cannot breathe
will never know the source from which we drink
the secret water, cold and clear
nor find in the darkest glimmering
the small round coins,
thrown by those who wished for something else.
The Well of Grief
River Flow
New & Selected Poems
Many Rivers Press © David Whyte
This thread’s seventeenth year anniversary…aum
much gratitude and appreciation and love for this space and allowance of expressions, namaste and thank you so much, Shekharji and admin who oversees it’s happenings, thank you! aum
Whatever name we put to it, I feel there are no words to script such happenings
…I believe
aum
Ave Maria
Ode to 77 swirls around the sun, Shekharji…
aum
what if there is no such thing as space and everything as we experience it is actually connected by different forms of mass, ‘invisible to the eye mass’ to ‘solid to the touch mass’ no space in between anything, all one colossal entity coexisting in varying degrees of mass, speed, energy…?
no space no pace no ace no ce no e
able to read this because of what happens between each letter word idea thought
there are no spaces … stuff we yet don’t know is there
what are the real issues facing us? is it famine, war, poverty, starvation ….
or is it lack of empathy, love, compassion, care for humanity and all creatures of this beautifully mysterious life sustaining giving thriving planet?
safety
what does it mean …
“when is turns to was”
Rest In Peace and Love Barbara Walters
aum shanti aum Heeraben Modi aum shanti aum
eighteen years ago today, my father passed…there was an article written about him eighteen years ago, and I am seeing it for the first time just a couple days ago, perhaps there is no time in between stuff just experiences … and some eventually come to the same intersection and greet each other before continuing onwards. aum
“PUBLISHED FEBRUARY 26, 2005
This article was published more than 17 years ago. Some information may no longer be current.
No one was really surprised when the visitation for Cyril Seeram Raymond turned into an impromptu concert, with performances that included the singing of Hindu prayers and a rendition of Amazing Grace on steel pans. By the time he died of throat cancer on Jan. 7 at the age of 80, Mr. Raymond had made music in so many different ways that it was hard to keep track of them all.
When he was raising his eight children in Trinidad, he turned them into a family band, Jackson Five-style, and took them on the road. They made albums and gave live performances, and his daughter once set a world record for the lowest limbo beneath a flaming bar.
But Mr. Raymond’s first musical love was drumming, and he mastered both the steel pans and the tassa, a finicky Indian instrument that demands careful temperature control since the pitch changes as the goatskin drumheads shrink and expand.
Mr. Raymond, always something of a Henry Ford, revolutionized the instrument by fitting it with synthetic skins and internal heaters that kept it stable.
In 1971, Mr. Raymond moved to Toronto with his family and continued his musical odyssey both as a performer and as a music teacher with the Toronto District School Board.
He wasn’t a wealthy man, but he lived a rich life, spending time with his relatives (by the time of his death, he had 21 grandchildren and one great-grandchild) and pursuing a long list of interests that included world religion, art, goldsmithing and amateur dentistry (back in Trinidad, mind you, where dentists were hard to come by).
Mr. Raymond could often be found in his North York garage, fixing a carburetor or welding up a new set of steel drums. One of his innovations was to modify the shape of the steel pans to create a chromatic scale that was easier for children to learn.
“He believed you had to know a little about everything,” says Mr. Raymond’s son-in-law, Dave Ramlogan. “We had a hard time keeping up with him.”
— Peter Cheney”
SPARE
aum
pranama to all of existence that brought my son into this world 23 years ago into this visible world, and nine months internal engineering in me. Good Blessings to this remarkable human being, a soulful spirited compassionate intelligent intuitive loving kind articulate energy expressing through the one named Aaravinda Raphael Dev. His father was named after Dev Anand, movie star from India…and here I am posting this message from a thread forged decades ago from a tapestry artfully crafted with talent, giftedness, care, diligence, kindness, toughness, endurance, strong willed hard working people through the ages…
A birthday to celebrate…Happy Birthday on your 23rd swirl around the sun, my Son, I love you always forever, Mom
aum shanthi aum
struggle is a puzzle
attachment
necessary in some cases
imagine if people were emotionally non attached to each other? how would a relationship exist? …like that of an elephant calf to it’s mother
then there is physical attachment, we value it to a high degree when we refer to body parts that go missing and medical science invent limbs to replace that which is missing.
So many levels of attachment, like the ones that bind fabric pieces together to fashion clothing that cover our bodies, the stitching along lines with thread and needle…bind
and when change comes, we remove the thread and sew a new size to fit what comes next…new bindings.
a prayer
an ordinary rare thing
a transmission of thoughts, will, wish, hope, intention
once it leaves our realm … where does it go?
the body is in constant communication with all that is around it, some conversations might be comprehendible to the mind, most of it perhaps not so much
Turkiye and Syria 🙏🏼
prayers for all the people affected by this horrible devastation, condolences to everyone who suffers a loss, support and help to all those who are injured still alive awaiting to be found, comfort to all who grieve for, loved ones shelter food water warmth support help humanitarian aid. Deep gratitude to everyone and also to all the emergency workers families friends volunteers who are risking their lives to help others. Blessings to everyone for today and all the days months years to come needed to survive process cope manage heal mend and get through this huge catastrophe. aum shanthi shanthi shanthi aum
how is it that some feel sad for those suffering and some could look on and just walk away from it?
major catastrophes require major support and aid to people and place in need…are we seeing what’s happening? and what are we doing about it?
aum
Maha Shivaratri
Ode to Shiva
Om Namah Shivaya
🙏🏼
is there space?
is there a part of existence where there is nothing…no thing?
do we call space space because we simply can’t see what’s there?
hmm
perhaps, there is no space at all
true to self…what does that mean?
do each of us have specific unique custom made ‘self’?
how much do we actually accept of someone else being themselves,
is it equal to what we accept of ourselves?
a movie… a moview
of an interpretation of someone’s imagination
coming together from thoughts inspired by experiences abound of places unseen by human eyes … mingled with language of sound sight touch feel taste smelling all the parts coming and going together and letting go as movement of pieces dance their way into an editing room where subtle nano second splits could mean the difference between a tear smile frown wonder held breath exhale or inhale in boredom or excitement from an audience member … all finalized to an end product to begin on a screen a whole new life of it’s own … inspiring millions in some kind of way , to do more or less of a thing, perhaps