Alsiony, Cate and Carm,
I'm glad you appreciate my work.
I don't have much to say except to repeat this old truth:
He who thinks he knows, does not know
He who knows he does not know, knows
We cannot predict with certainty, not anything.
Cate, I preceded this poem with a paragraph about me, Buddy and 3 psych nurses.
I deemed it unnecessary. It was a harrowing day.
You know, I'm not good at 'Comments', I find it really hard.
Keep cool,
Boss
ps. Happy 33rd Alsiony!
Until we are One
Re: Until we are One
'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer' - Albert Camus
Re: Until we are One
There is a sincerity to what you write Boss/Adam that I'm very drawn to, this is going to sound weird and I know I've said something like it to you before but there's a comfortableness about you, your writing that allows me explore something that can be a bit dark and a bit outside of my comfort zone while feeling safe.
You could just say thank you or change the subject. I think that's part of the reason I like it here so much, the focus doesn't have to stay on the poem which can hard if you're shy(ish).
with warm wishes,
Cate
I know you do, so I appreciate when you do comment but I hope you don't feel that you have to.Boss wrote:
Cate, I preceded this poem with a paragraph about me, Buddy and 3 psych nurses.
I deemed it unnecessary. It was a harrowing day.
You know, I'm not good at 'Comments', I find it really hard.
You could just say thank you or change the subject. I think that's part of the reason I like it here so much, the focus doesn't have to stay on the poem which can hard if you're shy(ish).
with warm wishes,
Cate
Re: Until we are One
Boss writes:
The lines that seemed to affect me emotionally were those quoted above. Your poem perplexes and enlightens, a nice combination to get one thinking at the start of this new day.
Strange,
to watch the storm
from the window in my room
attracted for a moment
then in a swirl,
like a blizzard of snowflakes
it all moves on
and is suddenly gone.
From my rock
I feel the poem's allegory
as it jostles from a distance.
Curtains half open,
I am jolted by enormous
twists of paradox
yet, for the flick of a second
I stand fearless.
At confession
I'll whisper my sins
as phrases of Cohen rise up
fluent in motion and thought
distilled to an absolute
and I'll bow in ceaseless
obeisance, surrendering
as I gather up my heart to delve
A Thousand Kisses Deep
having come to this end.
Boss, thanks for the words that accompany your interesting breadth of view.All said and all done
Bare facts they will tell
Whittled to nothing
Snowflake’s chance in hell…
I escape this confusion
It rankles my heart
I look back to you
And ponder the start…
When palm fronds are bowed
And time ticks its way
Through baggage and loss
And stigma’s decay…
The lines that seemed to affect me emotionally were those quoted above. Your poem perplexes and enlightens, a nice combination to get one thinking at the start of this new day.
Strange,
to watch the storm
from the window in my room
attracted for a moment
then in a swirl,
like a blizzard of snowflakes
it all moves on
and is suddenly gone.
From my rock
I feel the poem's allegory
as it jostles from a distance.
Curtains half open,
I am jolted by enormous
twists of paradox
yet, for the flick of a second
I stand fearless.
At confession
I'll whisper my sins
as phrases of Cohen rise up
fluent in motion and thought
distilled to an absolute
and I'll bow in ceaseless
obeisance, surrendering
as I gather up my heart to delve
A Thousand Kisses Deep
having come to this end.
Re: Until we are One
…There were in the Committee others also who shared my view, but I felt myself personally called upon to express my own. How to do it was the question. I had not the courage to speak and I therefore decided to set down my thoughts in writing. I went to the meeting with the document in my pocket. So far as I recollect, I did not find myself equal even to reading it and the President had it read by someone else.Cate wrote:...which can hard if you're shy(ish).
…This shyness I retained throughout my stay in England. Even when I paid a social call the presence of half a dozen or more people would strike me dumb.
…When my turn for speaking came, I stood up to make a speech. But I could not proceed beyond the first sentence.
…It was only in South Africa that I got over this shyness, though I never completely overcame it. It was impossible for me to speak impromptu. I hesitated whenever I had to face strange audiences and avoided making a speech whenever I could. Even today I do not think I could or would even be inclined to keep a meeting of friends engaged in idle talk.
…I must say that, beyond occasionally exposing me to laughter, my constitutional shyness has been no disadvantage whatever. In fact I can see that, on the contrary, it has been all to my advantage. My hesitancy in speech, which was once an annoyance, is now a pleasure. Its greatest benefit has been that it has taught me the economy of words. I have naturally formed the habit of restraining my thoughts. And I can now give myself the certificate that a thoughtless word hardly ever escapes my tongue or pen. I do not recollect ever having had to regret anything in my speech or writing. I have thus been spared many a mishap and waste of time.
…A man of few words will rarely be thoughtless in his speech; he will measure every word.
…My shyness has been in reality my shield and buckler. It has allowed me to grow. It has helped me in my discernment of truth.
GANDHI: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY
The story of my experiments with truth
pp. 60-62
Mohandas K. Gandhi
1927
'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer' - Albert Camus
Re: Until we are One
Gandhi was shy - very shy, somehow it doesn't surprise me although I'm a bit surprised the extent of it.
Thank you for sharing that Boss.
Thank you for sharing that Boss.
Re: Until we are One
That's alright Cate.
On page 62 Gandhi writes:
“Experience has taught me that silence is part of the spiritual discipline of a votary of truth. Proneness to exaggerate, to suppress or modify the truth, wittingly or unwittingly, is a natural weakness of man, and silence is necessary in order to surmount it… We find so many people impatient to talk. There is no chairman of a meeting who is not pestered with notes for permission to speak. And whenever the permission is given the speaker generally exceeds the time-limit, asks for more time, and keeps on talking without permission. All this talking can hardly be said to be any benefit to the world. It is so much waste of time.”
And I add:
This is what we, me included, do – we just waste time. We battle to get a cheap, lousy laugh, that bit of attention that eluded us when we were seven. We struggle, sometimes elaborately and to great lengths, just to get that laugh; to be accepted – one of the ‘gang’. Our comedy stoops to depths, usually sexual, in the vain attempt to fill that ‘hole in your culture’. But nothing soothes the ache; no one can love us in the right places. So we babble more, and then more. And then we babble even more. Missing the very crux of the matter, deleting Truth so calmly, so emphatically, so decisively, we anaesthetize the pain of the rejection and callousness of Mummy and Daddy. It’s okay, we think, attention will fix it. And on and on the hopeless loop goes. And we talk just to hear our own voices in the delusion that our intellects matter. It is not from there that our pain comes. It is from our hearts. It is precisely because we’ve been hurt the heart has been largely misunderstood and even ignored in Western culture. There is little, if any, relevant ritual that celebrates love and compassion – we do not live out of the ‘heart’ chakra. Big corporations and business do not see it fortuitous. Sure they include puppies and cute cartoons in their ads, but they know if their customers lived in reality, if they had an understanding of where they’d been hurt, they would learn what’s important and they would see how inane and wasteful our culture is. Business won’t show us, governments won’t, nor will religion. We spew out all our inhibited pain on the world. We line up nuclear bombs, wreck the climate, go to war and fill our lives with cold idiotic materialism and then what? We scream for attention. Attention, I reiterate, that was not available when we were kids. The love, or lack thereof, when mum was busy working, when dad was fooling around with his mates, when they were getting a divorce. The love that so many of us missed out on. The longing for Dad just to say, “I love you, son.”
Postscript: It is very odd. We all know what a bastard Hitler was; we know his moves and ideology. But we know him as an adult. Why have so few ever ventured back into his childhood? Are we scared of something? Our own ‘banished knowledge’, p’haps?
Edit: This is too harsh. There are beautiful parents out there, too, who allow their children the space to discover their real, true selves. They nurture, they guide in love. They listen and actually enjoy seeing their kids living by their own volition. I can be a bit dark sometimes.
On page 62 Gandhi writes:
“Experience has taught me that silence is part of the spiritual discipline of a votary of truth. Proneness to exaggerate, to suppress or modify the truth, wittingly or unwittingly, is a natural weakness of man, and silence is necessary in order to surmount it… We find so many people impatient to talk. There is no chairman of a meeting who is not pestered with notes for permission to speak. And whenever the permission is given the speaker generally exceeds the time-limit, asks for more time, and keeps on talking without permission. All this talking can hardly be said to be any benefit to the world. It is so much waste of time.”
And I add:
This is what we, me included, do – we just waste time. We battle to get a cheap, lousy laugh, that bit of attention that eluded us when we were seven. We struggle, sometimes elaborately and to great lengths, just to get that laugh; to be accepted – one of the ‘gang’. Our comedy stoops to depths, usually sexual, in the vain attempt to fill that ‘hole in your culture’. But nothing soothes the ache; no one can love us in the right places. So we babble more, and then more. And then we babble even more. Missing the very crux of the matter, deleting Truth so calmly, so emphatically, so decisively, we anaesthetize the pain of the rejection and callousness of Mummy and Daddy. It’s okay, we think, attention will fix it. And on and on the hopeless loop goes. And we talk just to hear our own voices in the delusion that our intellects matter. It is not from there that our pain comes. It is from our hearts. It is precisely because we’ve been hurt the heart has been largely misunderstood and even ignored in Western culture. There is little, if any, relevant ritual that celebrates love and compassion – we do not live out of the ‘heart’ chakra. Big corporations and business do not see it fortuitous. Sure they include puppies and cute cartoons in their ads, but they know if their customers lived in reality, if they had an understanding of where they’d been hurt, they would learn what’s important and they would see how inane and wasteful our culture is. Business won’t show us, governments won’t, nor will religion. We spew out all our inhibited pain on the world. We line up nuclear bombs, wreck the climate, go to war and fill our lives with cold idiotic materialism and then what? We scream for attention. Attention, I reiterate, that was not available when we were kids. The love, or lack thereof, when mum was busy working, when dad was fooling around with his mates, when they were getting a divorce. The love that so many of us missed out on. The longing for Dad just to say, “I love you, son.”
Postscript: It is very odd. We all know what a bastard Hitler was; we know his moves and ideology. But we know him as an adult. Why have so few ever ventured back into his childhood? Are we scared of something? Our own ‘banished knowledge’, p’haps?
Edit: This is too harsh. There are beautiful parents out there, too, who allow their children the space to discover their real, true selves. They nurture, they guide in love. They listen and actually enjoy seeing their kids living by their own volition. I can be a bit dark sometimes.
Last edited by Boss on Thu Apr 22, 2010 4:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer' - Albert Camus
-
imaginary friend
- Posts: 1371
- Joined: Fri Jun 22, 2007 5:09 am
- Location: Vancouver, Canada
Re: Until we are One
Hello Boss,
I've hardly been around the last few weeks; pleasant surprise to find you here. I'm always moved by the sincerity and wisdom of your threads and poetry, and sobered too. I wanted to comment on two things in your last post:
You quoted Ghandi's words on the necessity of silencing chatter when committing to the path of truth. Listening to CBC on the way to work this morning, I happened upon an interview in progress. I never found out the man's name, but he was speaking calmly about the loss of silence in our lives; how today it is almost impossible to find, unless one goes to a monastic-type retreat, and how because it is so seldom present, we have largely lost our ability to draw strength from it. He mentioned that young people in particular (with their IPods on even in bed) were very uncomfortable when placed in a silent space. His point was that the power and value of silence will likely be virtually unknown in subsequent generations. Me, I believe in 'a fine balance'. Silence and solitude can foster growth, but we are also social and sensual creatures, and to thrive, we also need to communicate. It's sad, that in our undeniably pampered and materialistic culture, we have come to depend on 'things' for companionship, rather than on each other...
You mention our thirst for attention, generated by the attention we never received as kids – it can go both ways, IMO. Sometimes if we are given excessive attention as children, we are condemned to forever seek validation that way. I would like to make a case for 'wasting time' as adults, here on the forum or anywhere else for that matter. Maybe we didn't play enough when we were kids; maybe we were overwhelmed by fears generated by the inevitable hurts and disappointments (as a child, when I shrieked and laughed with too much abandon, my grandmother could instantly dismiss my pleasure with a chilling: 'Be careful – chicken merry; hawk near.') But we are adults now, and we can choose to give ourselves that freedom we might have been denied as children. Whether adult or child, 'play' feeds our imagination and (hopefully) the imagination of those we play with, and (for me at least) the world is a little warmer for that.
I've hardly been around the last few weeks; pleasant surprise to find you here. I'm always moved by the sincerity and wisdom of your threads and poetry, and sobered too. I wanted to comment on two things in your last post:
You quoted Ghandi's words on the necessity of silencing chatter when committing to the path of truth. Listening to CBC on the way to work this morning, I happened upon an interview in progress. I never found out the man's name, but he was speaking calmly about the loss of silence in our lives; how today it is almost impossible to find, unless one goes to a monastic-type retreat, and how because it is so seldom present, we have largely lost our ability to draw strength from it. He mentioned that young people in particular (with their IPods on even in bed) were very uncomfortable when placed in a silent space. His point was that the power and value of silence will likely be virtually unknown in subsequent generations. Me, I believe in 'a fine balance'. Silence and solitude can foster growth, but we are also social and sensual creatures, and to thrive, we also need to communicate. It's sad, that in our undeniably pampered and materialistic culture, we have come to depend on 'things' for companionship, rather than on each other...
You mention our thirst for attention, generated by the attention we never received as kids – it can go both ways, IMO. Sometimes if we are given excessive attention as children, we are condemned to forever seek validation that way. I would like to make a case for 'wasting time' as adults, here on the forum or anywhere else for that matter. Maybe we didn't play enough when we were kids; maybe we were overwhelmed by fears generated by the inevitable hurts and disappointments (as a child, when I shrieked and laughed with too much abandon, my grandmother could instantly dismiss my pleasure with a chilling: 'Be careful – chicken merry; hawk near.') But we are adults now, and we can choose to give ourselves that freedom we might have been denied as children. Whether adult or child, 'play' feeds our imagination and (hopefully) the imagination of those we play with, and (for me at least) the world is a little warmer for that.
Re: Until we are One
Imaginary,
A kid needs self love and self belief. And he needs to trust in good. Primarily, it is up to the parents to set this into action – but a world of peace, a world with sacred ritual and a reverence for Life, now that would help!
One other thing, Charlie Chaplin didn’t need to use the word ‘fuck’ 80 times a night like modern day comedians, he preferred, you guessed it, silence.
Boss
A kid needs self love and self belief. And he needs to trust in good. Primarily, it is up to the parents to set this into action – but a world of peace, a world with sacred ritual and a reverence for Life, now that would help!
One other thing, Charlie Chaplin didn’t need to use the word ‘fuck’ 80 times a night like modern day comedians, he preferred, you guessed it, silence.
Boss
'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer' - Albert Camus
Re: Until we are One
I like silence and quiet - quiet places and thoughts, or just being in the same space with somebody else quietly.The Silence
It grew from nothing
Inside me it grew
It grew in my veins and arteries
. In my bones and flesh
It mastered my blood
One day I found it curled up
. In my skull
Under my useless tongue
Now I have nothing to say
. To anyone
Irving Layton
Absence
Love,
I make a silence
Out of your name
and dip
my hands into it
also Mr. Layton
For me play and a little idle chatter is a pleasant distraction and I find it soothing a gentle way to connect with another somebody else. I could see that it would seem to be a time waster, but it’s kinda like sleep and allows some of those stresses to fall away. I, like quite a few people here, have a job that is emotionally challenging and I find it helpful to be a bit silly and not so serious.
Re: Until we are One
In truth, my comments are not just directed at others, they are directed at myself. I am my own worst taskmaster – I am brutal in my repentance, am hard on myself. But I see your point.
Frivolity and mindless, empty chatter may be a stress relief for some – I prefer, as Gandhi suggests, silence. Or a walk at sundown, or just to remember. Our whole world is choc-a-bloc full of silly, insignificant ‘talk’ and music. We are addicted to superficiality in this throwaway game we call Life. It is like a cancer. I watch my niece being overwhelmed, swamped in it. It is sad. I, like quite a few people here, am emotionally challenged by the bullshit served up by our ‘advanced’ but oh so absolutely vacant society which is so obviously ‘run’ by a few greedy men in North America, Europe and China. They control my airwaves, what I eat, the newest designer jeans! They control everything. Except You…
There is no advertising on this Forum; unlike many others. It is a haven and I commend Jarkko – and probably Leonard – for this. Advertising is mindless, silly chatter. It is an affront to Humanity. In its insidious little ways it enters our psyche. We find ourselves whistling McDonald’s ditties, hankering for a Coke - we are better than this.
Mindless banter about sex only demeans it. The sexual act, which to my mind is a sacred thing, is reduced to the scope of something as cheap as an advert. If you continually refer to sex flippantly, if you debase it, it becomes that: unholy. Making love is the most intimate experience a Human can know. When you use that for shock value, for a laugh, you are only undercutting yourself.
Sincerely,
Adam
Frivolity and mindless, empty chatter may be a stress relief for some – I prefer, as Gandhi suggests, silence. Or a walk at sundown, or just to remember. Our whole world is choc-a-bloc full of silly, insignificant ‘talk’ and music. We are addicted to superficiality in this throwaway game we call Life. It is like a cancer. I watch my niece being overwhelmed, swamped in it. It is sad. I, like quite a few people here, am emotionally challenged by the bullshit served up by our ‘advanced’ but oh so absolutely vacant society which is so obviously ‘run’ by a few greedy men in North America, Europe and China. They control my airwaves, what I eat, the newest designer jeans! They control everything. Except You…
There is no advertising on this Forum; unlike many others. It is a haven and I commend Jarkko – and probably Leonard – for this. Advertising is mindless, silly chatter. It is an affront to Humanity. In its insidious little ways it enters our psyche. We find ourselves whistling McDonald’s ditties, hankering for a Coke - we are better than this.
Mindless banter about sex only demeans it. The sexual act, which to my mind is a sacred thing, is reduced to the scope of something as cheap as an advert. If you continually refer to sex flippantly, if you debase it, it becomes that: unholy. Making love is the most intimate experience a Human can know. When you use that for shock value, for a laugh, you are only undercutting yourself.
Sincerely,
Adam
'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer' - Albert Camus
-
imaginary friend
- Posts: 1371
- Joined: Fri Jun 22, 2007 5:09 am
- Location: Vancouver, Canada
Re: Until we are One
Boss, I smile when I read: 'Sincerely, Adam'. That you are one of the most sincere people, is very clear.Mindless banter about sex only demeans it. The sexual act, which to my mind is a sacred thing, is reduced to the scope of something as cheap as an advert. If you continually refer to sex flippantly, if you debase it, it becomes that: unholy. Making love is the most intimate experience a Human can know. When you use that for shock value, for a laugh, you are only undercutting yourself.
My 2¢:
I'm not in agreement that sex should always be regarded as sacred, although I don't dispute that it can be such. It may be playful, lighthearted, wildly or not so wildly experimental, irresistible, or sometimes simply a bad idea. All contribute to growing and exploring, experiencing, learning — whether via mistakes or delights. Forcing sex on someone who doesn't want it, or adults ensnaring children are terrible mutations of a universal, instinctive urge. Among adults, banter and kidding about sex doesn't offend me (or when it does, I'll remove myself or my attention to escape it). Almost all of us will experience sex, and that is a bond between us; maybe that's why we keep bringing it up all the time
Re: Until we are One
You are beautiful, Imaginary Friend.
In all sincerity, if we remove the fanfare of sex from the mainstream, if we just conceal it a little - add some mystery - and respect it for both its beauty and function, we may end up thinking there’s nothing to laugh about.
Try watching Chaplin.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJOuoyoMhj8
I’m trying not to take the moral high ground here. But I happen to think that the obvious erosion of our culture is due to the erosion of things held sacred. Things like age – respecting your elders, when a boy becomes a man, a girl a woman, when they get to vote, and so on; or love – the mystery and power of what it is. There is much, much more.
However, it is this emphasis on ownership, of gathering possessions, that really leaves me cold. We thrive in it. Aborigines (and I think I would be safe in saying most indigenous people) had few material possessions – maybe a boomerang or spear, not much else. Nowadays, the greed inculcated into Western children by not only business, but by family and friends, is astonishing. Everything is gauged by what one ‘has’ - not by what we ‘are’. ‘More and more’ is the rule; more Nintendo, more land to clear, more jewellery. The land is sacred to Aboriginal Australia. It is not some unimportant fixture to be used and exploited, it is hallowed ground. To their credit, after enduring appalling treatment, few are greedy to mine uranium or fill a bank account. They live, “Now!” Most of them aren’t interested in Beverley Hills and all the trimmings. Why should they be? The sky is the sky, the earth the earth.
All I am saying is this – we cannot sustain our way of life. There is a breath of bad air infecting our (often outdated) traditions and our attitudes. You can ‘feel the devil’s riding crop’ coming from anywhere they make money. There is unrestrained violence and noise in our media and hearts. We are greedy and self-engrossed; we are dying in our vanity. To remain silent, to accept this death, will be catastrophic. The cause of this evil? In my mind it is bad parenting.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-y36zbbuX7w
Once again I realise I have nothing further to say.
Peace,
Boss
In all sincerity, if we remove the fanfare of sex from the mainstream, if we just conceal it a little - add some mystery - and respect it for both its beauty and function, we may end up thinking there’s nothing to laugh about.
Try watching Chaplin.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJOuoyoMhj8
I’m trying not to take the moral high ground here. But I happen to think that the obvious erosion of our culture is due to the erosion of things held sacred. Things like age – respecting your elders, when a boy becomes a man, a girl a woman, when they get to vote, and so on; or love – the mystery and power of what it is. There is much, much more.
However, it is this emphasis on ownership, of gathering possessions, that really leaves me cold. We thrive in it. Aborigines (and I think I would be safe in saying most indigenous people) had few material possessions – maybe a boomerang or spear, not much else. Nowadays, the greed inculcated into Western children by not only business, but by family and friends, is astonishing. Everything is gauged by what one ‘has’ - not by what we ‘are’. ‘More and more’ is the rule; more Nintendo, more land to clear, more jewellery. The land is sacred to Aboriginal Australia. It is not some unimportant fixture to be used and exploited, it is hallowed ground. To their credit, after enduring appalling treatment, few are greedy to mine uranium or fill a bank account. They live, “Now!” Most of them aren’t interested in Beverley Hills and all the trimmings. Why should they be? The sky is the sky, the earth the earth.
All I am saying is this – we cannot sustain our way of life. There is a breath of bad air infecting our (often outdated) traditions and our attitudes. You can ‘feel the devil’s riding crop’ coming from anywhere they make money. There is unrestrained violence and noise in our media and hearts. We are greedy and self-engrossed; we are dying in our vanity. To remain silent, to accept this death, will be catastrophic. The cause of this evil? In my mind it is bad parenting.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-y36zbbuX7w
Once again I realise I have nothing further to say.
Peace,
Boss
'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer' - Albert Camus