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
i don’t know
what is it
what is this thing we call energy
what makes it move
are we but snowflakes and grains of sand scattered on a beach…
so big that we can’t perceive its enormity
yet see it right here on our own shores
sharing a self note:
to be emotional includes all emotions, joy sorrow happy sad excited surprise anger and so on … being emotional isn’t exclusive to a person crying and/or being sad.
notice how people use the term ‘ being emotional’
do we say a person is ‘being emotional’ when they express happiness ? hmmm
the doomsday vault filled with seeds, so many countries came together for a single cause, survival, what about coming together for a single cause of being kind, just, truth, in service of helping each other building an inclusive world?
60 years now … what to show for it?
why is there a need to show? just do
scriptures…hmmm
when a new way of thinking enters the mind…and you just know there’s no going back to the other way of being…
aum
when online services stop working, what does a person do?
walk, handwrite, try to keep busy with something else, read a book….hmmm
do we know instinctually when it’s time to step aside from a position that has great responsibility?
do we follow the instinct or do we follow what the role demands at the cost of compromising what the intention for the greater good holds?
Happy Birthday John ❤🕉🌴
a place from where to feel at ease in thought…
aum
how do we do it?
what is this thing called do?
while we are doing ‘nothing’ we are still ‘do’ing something
so there is never a no doing something?
earth to self, is there anyone in there?
Gordon Lightfoot … free to roam the universe and play on,
passed on May 1, 2023
aum shanti aum
advocating for what is true fair just
aum
finding balance in an extreme storm of happenings…
quite the adventure
aum
archery
the bow
the arrow
swift as its stretch the other way
pulled to release upon the elements of air wind currents
aimed to a point
met when all aligns from the intended to the targeted spot
oh how this dance between the archer bow arrow speed
a tight attachment achieved by it’s surrender to away distance
from that which once was held
archery
the sails are full of breeze and direction
the adventure awaits
tally ho
hum
‘please wash your hands before use’
started watching ‘Blackberry’ the movie…stopped 3/4 way though,
Heating up some Nuggets on a basketball court Finals,
the pace is different and not
competing to get more points than the other ‘guy’
Blackberry makers engineers and marketing people were doing their best to race to get more clients than the competitors
points
clients
speed
abilities
innovation
inspiration
communication
numbers
screens
signals
strategies
rewards
access
timeouts
….the list goes on
the game of basketball
the technology of Blackberry
do we hear only what is within our frequency?
are skilled listeners able to shift their antenna to pick up other signals, converting what was once scrambled distortion into clear communication?
how do we better our listening?
is it forced, acquired over practice, apparent from birth and then slowly faded by instructions…?
you don’t know me…but the words thoughts and ideas seem to knowlooking a well untamed view of landscape…escaping in our aligned spirit meetings from time to time across miles and space where no words have meanings yet convene among stars and oceans deep in the woodless universes…
aum
you don’t know me…but the words thoughts and ideas seem to know, looking at a well untamed view of landscape…escaping in our aligned spirit meetings from time to time across miles and space where no words have meanings yet convene among stars and oceans deep in the woodless universes…
aum
If a trip to anywhere high risk takes 2 hours
communication stops at 1.5 hours
no sign from the travelers to home base
why homebase waits 7 hours until asking for help from emergency workers?
hmmm….
mixed simple bitter honey love dislike
barn men
the birch
how it seems to just stand there
yet within
life grows and circulates
expanding its nourishment
to the ones who seek its offerings
openly and freely
it gifts juices and shelter
found deep in the ground
through
the birch
the note
how its spent
handed with one side showing
colors drawn art forms
regal in prominence
a history traced through centuries
there …on one side
flipped over to find a blank stare
nothing of numbers inks pictures
unaligned with the other side
now spent
as if genuine
to one who trusted
to not turn it over
to find a blank stare
the blank silent stare awaiting
that which is true to arise
from inked ashes drawn upon
a side left hidden in silence
now able to spend with ease
able to spend with ease
to spend with ease
spend with ease
with ease
ease
doors closing
a price to enter
only who can afford can participate
understandably, many won’t be able to see, hear, view, comment, reply…take part
aum
an intimate horizon reflection on this Canada Day:
Canada Life Reflections
When I first came to Canada,
it was to represent Trinidad and Tobago as a musician,
at a festival called, Caravan,
made up of many different cultures from around the world,
venues spread across Toronto.
This was the beginning of what has since become a more inclusive society,
not just as a festival for two weeks,
rather,
an everyday life happening,
as we all embark to learn more about each other
and better appreciate the useful and helpful aspects
of what it takes to live together,
while addressing biases and mistreatment
within our own cultures, families, friends, and ourselves.
I’ve been in Canada for 52 years,
still appreciating and grateful for this beautiful country,
home to Indigenous People and many diverse cultures,
and birth place to my two children
…O’Canada, thank you!
aum
music…
it listens to us
our hearts journey and arrive at that meeting place
embraces
hurts
cries
laughs
calls
sings
dance
feels
avoids and repels
comforts in an intimate way
a longing…
our complex and simple natural relationship
with music
having the ability to move us
in ways only sound and heart speak it’s own language
in ways only sound and heart speak
in ways only sound and heart
in ways only sound
in ways only
in ways
in music
aum
found and lost and found again
swept into darkness
searching sadness seen in mirror’s glaze
looking back awaiting an answer sought
turning away again and again
unready to see what is there
until that one tear falls with the deepest hurt
letting out a silent scream
here I am …here I am … here I am!
I walk with you as your heart felt closed shut
as your heart opens again
I am you and you are me
here to never abandon
even when not seen and felt
here I am
through it all
I’ve loved you all along
the me in I am
I’ve been here for me all along
aum
truth…more powerful than evil
in the cunning arts of disguise and illusion
evil itself probably relies on the truth of deception
to fool those who live in truthfulness
and although successful at times
it is eventually revealed
into the open courtyards
unveiled and brought on knees
by compassion of love and understanding
where the truth of deception
once again realizes it need not be deceiving
to feel loved and cared for
but found within oneself,
not desperately seeking it from another
nor in material or attachment
could ever find
this place of truth
as it need not have anything other than itself
this line read today may bring
comfort or horror
joy or pain
or nothing at all,
and years from now
depending on the journey
and having to reread it again
perhaps something different might be felt…
I miss you and think about you often
I am not glory given wings by praises
patience
invisible
no thing to see here yet…
one must now sign up to the account of twitter in order to see Shekhar’s Posts
hmmm…
aum
As with most of your posts, Shekharji, this stirred my heart and felt the tears too…
“But also with musicians like Nusrat fateh Ali Khan and A R Rahman. With Nusrat most of the communication was done by him looking into my eyes and singing with tears flowing from both our eyes, having been transported to a realm higher than ourselves. I have been blessed by moments when such people that have trusted and loved me too.”
-Shekhar Kapur
off the shores of uncertainty…we dive into ourselves
to find what had been there all along able to be seen now through… presence
David Whyte’s talks sometimes feel like a gentle swinging in a hammock from a lovely breeze passing by, leaving it’s essence of nature and it’s wonder of miracles more visible to the senses, thank you so much for being here there and everywhere, at times …aum
on the edge…now realizing there’s another invisible edge
ADMIT
Admit,
your distant love affair is with yourself,
and that no one can play harder to get:
the unwritten letters, the plays for time,
the heartbreak over never being properly answered.
That coy look of false seduction in the mirror,
or that hard look to hide what should not be hidden.
The invitation to undoing, and to allowing yourself to want at last,
what you feel you never deserved,
the fervent wish to come closer,
and the loving word of understanding you say to yourself
when you finally admit to it all,
the only declaration that counts.
David Whyte
from STILL POSSIBLE ©2021 Many Rivers Press
there is no need to be there
to be seen in flesh and sound
your presence can be felt
from the depths of love
of rhyme in reason and no reason
far from the thresholds
of what commonness describes in words
there, is where we meet
where we’ve met
in the invisible unknowing
freed within space
to be all there is all at once
with and in each other
oh my love oh my love
signaling
honking
beep beep
hey can I hear me?
am I listening?
the story…
all a part
no line or word
on it’s own
split
between self and timespace
invisible
middled in a way not so centered
the illusion permeates where common sense takes hostage of that which we perceive to be something other than what it really is
naughting
HAUSER
feeling
a commune of sounds
stretching over past any edge
perceived by our senses
the cello loves as Hauser loves
a thread of white hair
found on folded pages
embraced by faithful words
of a journey’s beginning
on every possible horizon unseen
by eyes of humans
seeing you
a smell
intermingled
in a love felt
across nothing
more than a
breath
beating in my heart
just one strand
one strand
of undivided love
and we never speak of it
again
…yet still possible
in pages to a door where no one travels
…only love