Ocean

"Your heart is an ocean pulled true by the moon, that cannot retreat till its telling is done." I have a mission as a writer and poet to speak the truth that's in me till 'the telling is done'. I believe that each person has a deep tone or note in them which is the core of their being. I listen for this tone when I try to understand others. The whole of life is an attempt to make your experience chime in unison with the inner sound. And when it's achieved there is a wonderful harmony with other people. This still lies ahead for the world. It seems to me there is a point in the darkest hour of the night when you hear that sound again - or, visually, when you see its true light. Thus waking can feel like a disillusion, a falling away from your true being. But in the course of the day the tone - your heart - is like an ocean, pulled by the moon, which has to break on the shore of the world.

As sleep is 'the little brother of death' it follows that in the life after death there is a deepest hour when you become that true tone again and 'bathe' in its restoring powers. And from there where else is there to go but back to the world again to continue the mission 'till the telling is done'? However, harmony in life on earth would not be possible unless you had experienced its archetype in a pre-earthly existence. Therefore it stands to reason that we experience that deepest hour after death together.

For me it becomes necessary to believe this simply because of the pull of the tide I feel so strongly in me. I couldn't believe otherwise. I've drawn an analogy between sleep and death here. The moon represents the force hidden in the darkness which pulls you towards day/life again. But what of the sun? The sun is the power which draws all life towards it and without which there would be no life. Really it is the counterforce to the earth. I can think of no greater symbol and would not like to explain it here.

Bring vision to morning and speech to high noon,

unveil the rewards of the night for the sun;

your heart is an ocean pulled true by the moon,

that cannot retreat till its telling is done.


Jay

Life After Earth

It was put to me recently that the people who plunder the earth for their own gain are precisely the ones who have no instinct for the aferlife. They have no connection to that realm at all and therefore they devote all their considerable energies to taking in this one. They congratulate themselves for doing so and ensure that no laws are passed to prevent their activities. Another way of putting this is that they know their consciousness is going to be extinguished.

But is it the same thing to say that there is no life after earth and to say that there will be no continued consciousness? Not really, because there may be life after earth (is it not just as valid to put it that way as to say 'life after death'?) but without consciousness. Could it be possible that at a deeper level of our being we know there is a connection between the way we behave on earth and the conditions of our consciousness afterwards? In fact it seems very justifiable to me to talk about 'life after earth' as it is precisely our relationship to life on earth that characterizes our immortality or lack of it. In the long run we are talking about a time when the earth will not exist at all. What will be the state of humanity then? Will the universe tolerate a hierarchy of beings who only cared about the here-and-now and who took from the world that was given them with no thought of care or posterity? It seems to me quite possible to make a purely philosophical (non-spiritualistic) argument that the consciousness people of this nature will have 'after earth' will be analogous to the consciousness they have now: that is characterized by nihilism, greed and darkness. In other words by no consciousness (or at least a diminution of it). I suggest therefore that the people who rape the earth in this life do in fact have a submerged instinct for the fact that they will be plunged into darkness later - and for that reason they take, take, take while they can.

This raises the question - why do they start off this way and not break the dark cycle? It seems to me the answer is: because they have ranged themselves with another hierarchy of beings - one which is devoted to turning the earth into a desert unfit for humanity.

What are the fruits of the earth really? Beauty, taste, scent, touch - the senses are only tools for working with the world. Beauty is nothing without a soul to perceive and portray it. We are here as hosts for each other - to see, to welcome, to care for, to honor and uphold. To do these things is to create a beauty of soul: a consciousness which sustains and is sustainable. Is it unreasonable to think that this consciousness - composed of light - is the one that will remain 'after earth'? That is in both senses: after our life on earth has ended and after the earth itself has ceased to exist. And is it unreasonable to think that this attitude of soul is communicated to us by hierarchies of beings who exist in the light in a non-physical way?

Therefore I suggest that we should not allow the earth herself to be like the Lucrece of ancient legend who heard the dark footsteps of Tarquin coming down the passageway. Lucrece who was welcoming, honorable, beautiful and doing her duty in greeting the king. Tarquin who barely even wrestled with himself before giving in to the darkness in his breast. Look again at Shakespeare's version of the legend. It tells precisely of the way our earth is being treated today. And it shows that the only fruit we have for the future is the pure light of consciousness.

Jay

©landar 2011. All rights reserved

 

Twin Lives - A Tale of Heart

A little story: Once there were two children who lived in the inner city in Dublin. They were twins, a boy and a girl. They had no chance in life. Even as babies they were addicts - even before they left the womb. Their mother was addicted to heroin. The father came and went bringing violence and abuse with him. The children lived in squalor. They had no education, barely enough to eat, and resorted to thieving to feed their mother's addiction. At last they were taken into care but nothing could change the pattern of their childhood. They ran away and spent long periods on the streets. The boy developed his own drug habit by the age of twelve. The girl broke away. She experienced abuse in the guise of help and realized there was no authority under the sun she could trust. But then as if a voice inside her had spoken she decided she would build her own life, from the ground up. She managed, with difficulty, to find a job and a room. After some time she took literacy classes, and then progressed to night-school. Finally she enrolled in college and gained a qualification. As the years passed she married, bought a house and had children. One day she was walking over O'Connell Bridge and she saw a figure hunched inside a sleeping bag, begging with a plastic cup in front of him. It was her brother - her twin. He didn't see her.

The brother never made it. He didn't have the same opportunities. And yet their opportunities were exactly the same.

How is this possible? It wasn't nature and it certainly wasn't nurture - both things had failed them completely. They had no chance in life. So how did one rise up and the other didn't?

I have no answer to this. One could look for little sociological clues or say, perhaps, that the father had managed to spare an ounce more love for the girl than for the boy. Somehow it feels as if you have to say something: find some excuse for life.

I pondered over this and came up with one or two contributory elements, apparently unrelated. The first was that, 'You only receive what you can cope with'. I believe this - that life gives you what you can handle, whether it seems fair or not. It's not a question of what you deserve but what you can cope with. This doesn't quite fit in, in terms of finding explanations, excuses or justifications. Even if the shoulders are weak they carry the burden up to the last breath. I could go on and say, the greater the heart the greater the load, until there is a universe to bear. If a god's own steps are slowed with the burden he has to bear, then a human love might step in to help. I think we're in this position in life: that we bear the burden we can cope with in order that the divine can carry the universe. In other words, by bearing the load - often without any explanation or help - we perform a service for the divine in us. Even if we don't know there is any divine there at all.

The second element is the question of heart. In the story the girl seems to have more 'heart' - in the sense of being able to lift herself up - than the boy. Why is this? Both are like people lying on a bed of burning coals with feet pressing them down. Why does one have the heart to get up while the other doesn't? This is just the original question put in a different form. Is it that one is born with the heart while the other isn't? We've already established that both were born addicted. For me the answer is that the heart has to be given. In this case it has to be given by the divine: the divine returns the help it has received through the human being carrying its burden. This again brings up the question, 'Why does one deserve help and not the other?'

I believe the answer lies in my third element which is: Powerlessness. Powerlessness soaks the argument out of you. It is the opposite of 'world'. The world is power. It has fullness, resources, opportunities. Powerlessness leaves you like an empty, burnished bowl. It is the only time in life when it's justified to say that the human being is an empty vessel which has to be filled up - when powerlessness has done its work. This is the great theme of tragedy: catharsis. In drama the point comes when the gods say, 'It's done - that's enough'. In life it's the same: the empty bowl can be filled with the flame of 'heart' which is the only real power in the world. I think this is the only explanation why one rises up and the other doesn't - the words, 'It is enough'.

All these 'contributory elements' aren't explanations at all. But neither are they excuses or justifications. Just try and find a satisfying answer to problems like this that doesn't include judgements or excuses for life: 'He must have deserved it'; 'it was his karma'; 'she had something in her that he didn't'; 'there must have been something different that gave her a chance'. I would personally like to find comprehensive answers that don't impose further burdens. Too often the feet pressing you down on the burning coals have some connection to religion. And I like answers which belong within the spiritual nature of the human being. To my mind those will have 'heart' and the chance of personal responsibility.

However, all this circling around the question is just the way my particular mind works. I would love to hear from anyone who has more experience or different insights!

Jay

Hart

Another sonnet - a love poem this time.. Do we take each other's sadness away? Yes. Is there a ground of sadness in life which is simply that of being alone? I think so. Is there a divine Heart which sends someone to us to ease that pain? I've no doubt. So then we can enter love's deep forest together as long as this is true. As long as we are true. And if we find a splash of sun in which to rest, we'll know the light comes from that Heart which is truth itself.

Hart (for H)

You took my sadness from me, left my heart

a shining gift which now I give to you.

And like its namesake - hart - it will depart

for love's deep forest only if it's true.

Its truth it finds when going along beside

a second self, a hart with boundless love,

which knows its peace and happiness reside

with forest green around and sun above.

So let us be one heart and chase the spring

which fills the world with buds of life and hope,

caressing leaf and flower until they sing

of love reborn and cover every slope.

Then in a splash of sun we'll take our rest

and hart with hart will know how each is blessed.

Jay

Orion's Friend

My dog died and I'm sad... I believe the Spirit of the dogs - who I'll call Sirius - has beautiful shining eyes, very deep, and if you look in those eyes you'll see a myriad of smaller shining eyes, which are those of all the dogs who've ever lived or will live. Some are happier than others. My own dog's eyes are there. I'm glad for her - it's the happiest place in the world for a dog to be.

I miss her so much - I still open and close doors for her, I still talk to her. I tell her not to bark too much at the postman. She has a weak heart after all. But she doesn't pay attention. She'd follow me until she drops.

I wrote this poem for her - a Shakespearean sonnet, which is a bit grand for a dog. But I explore that idea in the poem. She always sat with me when I wrote, and jumped up the minute I stopped. That was how I knew when a poem was finished. I suppose I'll just have to go on and on now...

Orion's Friend (for Hannah)

There's nothing I can see through heaven's gate

that will come running to me as you ran;

no sound or singing sphere however great

to welcome me as dog can welcome man.

And all the high emotions of my art

are small beside your faithfulness and trust;

I'd search a thousand years within my heart

for loyalty like yours - and then be dust.

But going through heaven's gate I hope to find

the archetype of dogs, Orion's friend;

and in his eyes a myriad consigned

of shining eyes he'd leave with us or lend.

So you did borrow me to give your years

a happiness which now I shower in tears.

Jay

©landar 2011. All rights reserved