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Monday, April 28, 2008

Sunlight sonata

The day dawns beautiful, the sun rises over the hills and pours its liquid light into the nooks and crannies and floods the valley. It's a blessed sight and a blessing to watch, sunlight crowning the tops of trees and falling quivering on the grass. Leaping and gleaming on the satin waves rippling down the river. Spotlighting the houses nestling on the sides of the hills in an orange glow, naughty rays glinting off windows caught off-guard. Falling warm on my face, my hands and through the windows of my eyes reaching my heart where it glows like a fiery diamond. What do you call it when the light without meets the light within?

And all through the day the liquid light flowing through my mind……

Surely we must be beings of light, else why would we respond so joyously to the sunlight, why would the moon rising on a dark sky send us into such raptures? Why would we love light so much that we flood our nighttimes with so much artificial light. Surely man among all his waking moments must at least in some luminous moment remember that he is a being of light. Else how futile would our life be, if we were to surround ourselves with light without and yet live in darkness within. Look at babies, look at their eyes, how full of light they are. There is no fear there, no darkness. And yet we say we are grown-up and all we have done is to lose sight of our own light. Why do we go seeking to solve the mysteries of the universe, to shed light on all the unsolved mysteries of the world when what we need to do is to delve within ourselves and reacquaint ourselves with our true selves. And find our light ……

Friday, April 25, 2008

Afternoon song

It is a great blessing that today is a holiday and the weather is perfect. The sun rises over the hills and floods the valley with a pale autumn sunlight. Towards afternoon after a late breakfast, I decide to spend some time in our garden. The sun is soft and warm on my face or back and it is cool in the shade. I clear the garden of weeds, dead leaves and twigs to the accompanying music of birdsong. The tui calls in its distinct double-noted song. And the wind gently serenades the tree-tops like a sweet violin accompaniment. The grass, the leaves, the soil is soft in my hands and the atmosphere is calm. But thoughts roil and rumble in my mind as I grapple with emotions. But after a while I have a moment of clarity.

I realize that my greatest weakness has been that I have never been aware of my own strength. It is true that in the past that I’ve had glimpses of it and it has come to my aid in times of difficulty. But as a constant everyday conviction, I do not think of myself as strong. I tend to look outside for external validation. But in that moment of clarity I realize that I am stronger than all my troubles, difficulties and obstacles. I am powerful beyond measure. This somehow seems to settle my thoughts and calm my emotions. Yes, I have great strength which is not of the ego, but is inherent in me as a quality of my inner self, and I possess great courage too. And yes, I must not allow myself to forget this :)

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Amazing Grace

A song that never fails to move me to tears and uplift my spirits.
In Hayley Westentra's sweet voice .......




click here to listen

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.

T'was Grace that taught...
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear...
the hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares...
we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...
and Grace will lead us home.

When we've been here ten thousand years...
bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise...
then when we've first begun.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.

Friday, April 11, 2008

Tia'a Poem

Among all the people who called / wrote and wished me on my birthday, I also got a call from my brother who told me that his 8 year-old daughter has started writing poetry and that she had wriiten one that blew his mind. He sent it to me and, well, it blew me away too :)))



So, without much further ado, here's the 'lil button's poem -

Sometimes I think of things that don't have a chime
things that aren't real or dont have a rhyme.
Thoughts of things that are all imagination
things that are full of me and my full creation.
From time to time I make it rhyme
Whenever I hear a chime, I burst into tears
cause all the pasts I've been through will give me all those fears.
Now I am older, I understand I need to overcome those fears
and stop my big bursting tears,
My poem to follow for all my years.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Maps and other travel thoughts

Have you ever been in a situation where you are travelling somewhere and you realise you are lost? You go around and around going past the same streets again and again trying desperately to get your bearings, lost and confused, until you remember the map that you forgot to consult. Then you look at it, find your location, the areas around and everything falls into place. You can see your destination, all available routes and the best route to take to get there. An aerial view when you are down there on the ground lost, almost always brings clarity.

For the past few weeks, I have been scampering around like a rat lost in a maze desperately seeking routes to go forward. Signposts to tell me what to do, where to go. After I was well and truly lost among the maze of emotions, experiences and choices, down on the ground, the only way to go was up and so I decided to get an aerial view. In my case it is the soul's point of view, why I am here, what I am doing towards achieving that purpose. When I detach myself from the drama, intensity and immediacy of life, I am able to see my purpose, my way forward, the reasons for the experiences of my life more clearly. Looking at the larger picture clarifies my life and I am better able to choose the best possible route to get to my destination.

I have also realised that when you are a traveller you enjoy the ride, you don't get attached to the scenery. So too with life, why get attached to people, places, pleasant experiences?

And, in spite of our travelling companions, we always travel alone, my experiences and the lessons I have to learn are my own, my path can only be walked upon by me.

~~~

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Thoughts on a partly sunny day


This morning I sit in the lounge with a hot cup of tea and gaze at the scene outside the French windows. It's been raining for the last two days, so the trees are looking invigoratingly greener and the birds are all chirping among the leaves. It is a mixed sort of day, as though the day cannot decide which way to go. The sky is full of clouds so the sunlight is hazy, but once in a while the clouds part and the light creeps up the balcony floor and in towards the carpet. The intensity of the sunlit pattern changes as the light goes from hazy to strong and back to vague again as the clouds move back and forth in the sky.

I cannot help thinking how similar our lives are. I think our soul is like the sun, bright and luminous, always there, always shining. And the clouds, they are our thoughts and resulting emotions, our experiences. White fluffy clouds for positive, happy thoughts. Grey, menacing clouds for dark, tumultuous emotions. And at any given moment of time, these clouds whether white or dark are always clouding the wisdom of our soul, blocking out its light. And we mistakenly think that life consists of clouds, as our gaze moves from white clouds to gray and back and forth, most of the time unaware of our sun-soul.

But if we were to be in a state of mindful awareness we could reach the state of 'sthithaprajna'.
The Stithaprajna dwells always in the Spirit without giving way to grief, lust, fear and delusion. His vision beholds the Spirit everywhere. For that we have to rise above the clouds, high up there we can see the clouds for what they are, where they arise from and how transient they are. In that state we can see the luminance of the sun at all times.

Then there will be no cloudy days, only sunlit ones :)
Then we can behold the Divine always.

~~~

Friday, April 04, 2008

Thoughts on a cloudy day

Come with me on a journey, let's do a small exercise together. If you are not near an open window, after you read this move to a window. If it's night wherever you are, no problem, just make small adjustments in your thinking :) now that's easy, isn't it?

Ok, now look out towards the sky. Hopefully, you will be able to see a patch of sky, blue, or grey or black or white with clouds. If there are clouds, watch them for a while, observe how they shift and move, sometimes imperceptibly, but move they do, they change shape, get fatter and denser or dissipate into wisps of mist. It is very calming and soothing. Watch them for a while. Notice their impermanence, their shifting, moving quality. Our troubles are like that, blocking out the sun, clouding our vision, sometimes getting fatter and more dense and engulfing us completely while we flap around like a drowning person, trying to find the light. But all we need to do is make a slight shift in our perspective and tell ourselves, 'this too will pass', this is 'annicca' like the Buddhists call it. This is impermanent. This will shift and move and pass away. If we remain calm and detached, troubles are like clouds, they swirl around us but eventually they move on.

If the clouds have passed, notice the sky, its colour. Blue. Scientists tell us that the colour is the result of the scattering of sunlight. I have noticed that the sunlight that you experience in places that are closer to the equator have a more yellow quality and the sunlight in places further away from the Equator is more blue-tinged. But how can that be? Pure light is white, so what explains the colour? Let's look at the concept of colour. Our eyes see everything around us as having some colour, or white or black. The names of the colours are labels that humans have given to colours to communicate better, for I do not think that honeybees say to themselves, "oh look! A RED flower!" Again science tells us that colours result when the light that strikes a surface reflects on to our eyes after the rest of the spectrum has been absorbed by the object. So when light falls on a plant, the plant absorbs all the rays of light except the green part which get picked up by our eyes. So colour just like shape, texture, solidity are just the perception of our senses.

Look at the blue sky more closely. It almost looks solid. Like an inverted blue bowl. Nothing else is visible unless the moon has risen during the day or you might see passing birds or planes. But we know that there is only air up there, it is not solid. Beyond the blueness, unseen by us, there are planets, stars, galaxies, supernovas. See them all in your mind's eye, stretched out to infinity, expand your consciousness outward to meet them, outwards in all directions. Feel the vastness within you, flowing out from you, feel the disappearance of boundaries. Your body is the experience of the senses, like colours, like solidity, feel it become light and unburdensome. There is nothing to fear at all, everything is light and love in the Universe, feel the lightness and the love. Unhindered by the senses, feel the oneness with all creation. This is our natural state.

And yes, things are not what they appear to be. It's all a matter of perception and you can alter your reality by changing your perspective.

~~~

Thursday, April 03, 2008

The opaque mirror

Today in the office, I take a break from work, close my eyes and sink into my myself. An image of a mirror with a beautiful wrought iron border surfaces. I look at it fascinated, admire the oval shape, the sheen of the glass, the fine working of the metal. And yet, in spite of all my looking I cannot see myself in the mirror. And then the realisation dawns that I am that mirror.

Over the years, a layer of experiences, thoughts, impressions, opinions have collected over the gleaming surface to such an extent that the mirror no longer reflects anything. All I am seeing all the time is the grime that has accumulated on top. Only if I peel away the layers one by one, throw away the scum of dead thought and clean it all up with the laser beam of mindful awareness will I be able to get to the gleaming mirror that is me. My true self. The pure light of consciousness. The unblemished manifestation of divinity. Pure love. It is all there, always there, waiting to be discovered, to be reclaimed, to be brought to light again.

That is the highest purpose of my life.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Chrysalis

The other day I was walking in my front yard, where the grass had grown tall and was interspersed with tiny yellow wildflowers. I noticed a tiny little butterfly alight on one of these flowers. It sat there, light and airy, probing around for nectar when the wind began to blow. Hard. So hard that the flower stalks bent down and the flowers almost touched the ground. I expected the butterfly to get blown off, such a light-looking creature it was. But to my great astonishment, the butterfly stayed on the flower, clinging tightly, even as the flower swayed madly in the wind, tossed here and there. Even as the wind beat on my face and flapped my clothes. I wondered about the strength of the butterfly then, such strong legs it must have to hold fast to that dainty flower in the force of what might have been a strong breeze to me, but which was evidently quite forceful for the grass and the flowers.

I wondered then where this strength came from. Until I remembered the chrysalis. Inside the chrysalis the young butterfly goes through a period of growth. But when the time comes for it to emerge, it has to struggle to break open the walls of the chrysalis. What has been a protective cocoon so far is now restrictive. So it struggles, its efforts pushing the fluid into the wing veins so that they can open up. Its legs and mouth probably straining against the chrysalis walls, tearing them open. Until the butterfly emerges, light and strong.

It seems to me that my struggles have also been like that. Maybe this struggle and pain was necessary for me to break open the walls of my chrysalis and to emerge as a butterfly. Maybe it will give my wings lightness and my legs strength. Maybe it will also give my heart the wisdom to learn to let go of the past, just as the butterfly discards and forgets the chrysalis as it flies away into freedom.



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