The Seven Ages of Man or - Reading the Runes

And once again the surfeit of the season does not want to give way to the paucity of the next. The many will not yield to the few; abundance to the rime of frost. The old would force the clock if it could, to let its inspiration, now demon-filled, last longer. Yet leaves themselves begin their converse with skeletons: their own, which soon will leave their green flesh in the past. And what do I see in this? Myself. I read the runes and see how the shades must jostle for space in a world which is unforgiving of death.

Is autumn an advance on summer? Is winter a progression? It seems not - summer has everything. And yet the earth gives no concessions. And so it is in the seven ages of man: one human being has to cast himself off to let the next one stand free. At the end there is no further costume - the man is complete or is food for the worms, depending on your point of view. In the seven ages of humanity the same is true - each new stage is a boundless gift. Why are we so perplexed about accepting it? Because we read the runes, we see skeletons and shades dancing. We see the leaves, which are ourselves, giving no ground, making no concession.

Then I find myself in a rocky grotto. The leaves tumble; holy icons wink and whisper. I don't know how new life will open. I turn and face the holy mother. I stand in my own solitude and pray.

Jay

©landar 2011. All rights reserved

At The Gate of Stillness and Silence

It's a strange thing to be finding - or even looking for - stillness in the time of whirling winds, spinning leaves and earth-drenching rain; when the conflict in the heavens is between the burgeoning fullness of life on earth and sun's own need to refine his activity down to a small, silent point.

At this time you are like a spider which builds its web facing into the summer meadows and expects to catch the full harvest of insects enjoying the light and warmth of the day. Instead, the blasts of autumn wind come racing over the hills, driving showers of rain before them - and you realize that you are the one who is caught, on the web of your own expectation of plenty.

It's hard to see the sun delighting in the turning leaves and realize that you also have to let go of your easy words and concepts. But this is the lesson of life - that the living must always give way to the refining, paring-down activity of fall. And it's the essential message of your inner being just as it is of the sun.

To be left with nothing? The spider is left with nothing - every creature which dwells in the expectation of fullness is left with nothing. Autumn is the time, par excellence, of resources. To let go, as a poet, of your well-chosen epithets, your sun-warmed store of words, and go into a place where the earth is still, where your body is silent - even while the wind is lashing the trees into gorgeous shapes and colors - this is the message of the sun. And the reason for this is that all your sentiments and fine feelings must die into the earth to allow for new life to come forth. All your resources are buried within the stillness and silence. You owe nothing to the leaves and wind and falling rain. The only hope for the future is to go into the center of being. The spider cannot do this - except that the Creator provides for it through instinct. But you as a poet, as a creative human spirit, must make the journey inwards - to fly from thoughts and words so that you may win 'the soul which is forever drenched in Love'.

Drenched

And so I'm spun on rainbows, climbing sun,

and cloud-drenched rain, as if my spider-soul

had thought to catch what summer had begun

but found instead that fall had caught it whole.

So all my thoughts and words are left to spin

where once they flew with certainty above,

and I must fly from them that I may win

the soul which is forever drenched in Love.

Jay

©landar 2011. All rights reserved

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Author: Jay Landar

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Spiritual Journey or - Troughs and Crests

To have no answers. Ah! to have no answers. That is the condition of our spiritual journey - the condition we are bound to live in. Life is turbulent. As the unwearying ocean will never remain at peace for long, so life will fling its waves and troughs before us with little respite. This is all part of our spiritual awakening, of spirituality itself. But, strangely, every trough and each wave has its name. Why is this? Why is it we seem to know each trouble, each event, as if it was intended or as if we had somehow experienced it before? The upheavals of life are not like waves and troughs of the ocean, because they are somehow specific - they are named and numbered, they are recognizable quantities. They belong within the realm of spiritual growth. And yet there is no answer.

This is particularly true with events of life and death: accidents, illnesses, misfortunes - deep-seated problems as they affect people in your life. You can do everything in your power to help but still find no solution. For death itself there is no solution. And then you are out on the ocean. Every human being is out on the ocean, despite the deepest will to help. At those times it feels as if you have to sink deeper and deeper into yourself, to travel ever-farther west, in order to contain what is happening. And then you realize there is a course, there is an order, there is a light. If you are lucky you will see the light, for example, from the person who has died - if that is what has happened. That light is unwavering and steady. More likely you will experience it in the fact that the waves and troughs are identifiable - nothing is random, nothing is unknown, even if it has no solution. If you connect yourself with the course across the ocean, with the order, with the light, you start to find that the very lack of answers is an answer itself. Ultimately this is because the love in you is answered by the Love in the cosmos - irrespective of the nature of the problem. Therefore when you are out in the ocean longing for peace you may find that your own deeper being holds the key to the peace you are craving.

I do believe that each trough and crest is answered by another. It may take a long time - more than a lifetime in some cases - but there is no such thing as 'no answer'. The spiritual journey is a long one. In the meantime, in sinking deeper into yourself or sailing farther west, you may find the light to guide you.

Jay

©landar 2011. All rights reserved