If I were brave enough, I’d tell you how my heart
has raged for love, stretched thin as a high wire.
If I were brave enough, I’d tell you
how my body has been fighting to stay upright
on every precipitous downhill the city
throws at it. If I were brave enough,
I’d climb into your lap and weep with longing.
All I can say is that any attempt at beauty and hope
is land-mined with failure.
And so the dangerous track-making begins.
Wending our way through,
there are possible clutches at sunlight, at windows, at yes.
We are each of us inches from death.
We are each of us inches from life.
We are each of us inches from each other.

by Maya Stein

What does it mean, make an alliance with anguish? Making it your ally? Or even: to ally with it? That definitely sounds counterintuitive at first, yet it immediately makes me curious. What would happen if I tried more of that, rather than the habitual wrestling with anguish, trying to avoid or somehow conquer it?

Poet, writing guide and adventuress Maya Stein talks about what she would do if she were brave enough – daring to be more truthful, more vulnerable, risking the many varieties of failure. It inspired me to make my own list: if I were brave enough, I would… and yes, if I didn’t mind anguish as much, more choices would open up and I might inch my way closer to beauty and hope, to life and the important others in it…

But then of course, the question of how arises. How do I make an alliance with anguish? I guess that’s where the dangerous track-making begins, one step and one moment at the time, aware of the risk of the landmines of failure. And: maybe failure isn’t the end of everything, maybe that would just mean some more anguish which I can also be with, breathe with…

Although mindfulness is usually associated with becoming more calm and peaceful, it definitely also supports me towards living more courageously. Sitting undilutedly with myself, especially for longer periods in a retreat context, has undoubtedly required and further grown my braveness. Chogyam Trungpa said that “ultimately, that is the definition of bravery: not being afraid of yourself.” So here is to more practice!

PS. I love reading about brave and inspiring people, as if their courage and ability to think out of the box could be contageous somehow. Reading a bit about Maya’s adventures was definitely inspiring, and it made me wonder what adventures I could provide for myself…
And if you feel ready for an adventure in mindfulness and discovering what that can bring you, we have a four level pathway plus a number of themed courses to choose from!

Photo by Valentina Stanoaie on Unsplash

by Rolf Jacobsen translated by Robert Bly

When I read this poem by Norwegian poet Rolf Jacobsen and receive it into embodied presence, I initially notice something unnameable in my heart. Is it longing, heartbreak, love? Sitting with the feeling a little longer, I know that I’ve recognised a deep truth in the poem; a truth that is hollowing out all the dross from my heart to make room for love.

The primordial wild of the phenomenal world – the Ocean – speaks to me in the poem and reminds me how small I am and how humility is really the only position to take. This puts me in my place, but not in a way that feels harsh or unwelcome. It’s a gentle return to honouring the Greater Intelligence of Life (or whatever you would like to call it – God, Buddha, the Universe…) via the bridge of humility. This position is desperately necessary in our crazy world.

The suggestion is that our violent, haughty, self-aggrandising tendencies may be worn away by the constant Sssh of the waves. It’s not a pounding or thrashing of breakers, but a persistent, almost soothing Sssh which also suggests a stilling and quietening. And a taming of ego. Knowing that Jacobsen was Norwegian adds to the atmosphere around the poem for me – moody, elemental coastlines hover in my mind’s eye, the feeling of being tussled by wind and awed by magnificent vistas of sea, rock, clouds, sun.

I happily sink into this humble, quiet place and find my heart bursts with love to be there. How strange that from the point of view of the day-to-day hussle of life we might resist this humbling, when actually it is such a beautiful place to land up at! It feels like deep belonging and soft opening. It even has a tinge of romance to it. Perhaps this is the longing that the mystics-of-old wrote of (Rumi, Hafiz), the longing and devotion for the Beloved. Perhaps the ocean is like the Beloved, a Vast Powerful Awakener, inviting us home to union with all Life.

Ps. Join us at the end of May for the next Mindfulness Meets Mystical Poetry course where we’ll reflect from embodied presence, on a diverse range of poems that connect us to our humanity, our deep intelligence and to something altogether vaster. Are you curious get to know your own particular responses to poems and where they might transport you to?

Photo by Bernhard on Unsplash

The second goal is to see each individual thing
as unified, as one, with all the other
ten thousand things.
In this regard, a little wine helps a lot.

The third goal is to grasp the first and the second goals,
to see the universal and the particular,
simultaneously.
Regarding this one, call me when you get it.

by David Budbill

Wow, what a clear setting out of the human endeavour to live wisely! So simply and concisely stated – and yet as the last sentence indicates, anything but straightforward and worth knowing about when it’s achieved. I loved the combination of sage instruction with the down-to-earth commentary, the dry humour and the teacher-student familiarity I felt in it. This was not an aloof wise one diseminating wisdom – here is an friendly and encouraging fellow human who knows his way around the great endeavours and their challenge.

As so often happens, reading this poem made me curious about the person who the words travelled through, and the life that led to this expression. It came from one of the eight books of poetry written by David Budbill (1940-2016) with a title that intrigued me: ‘Moment to Moment: Poems of a Mountain Recluse’. His life was summarised on his website as ‘humble, engaged, and passionate’, and he brought his poetry into the world with others in musical collaborations reaching diverse audiences. Diving a bit more into the traces he’s left on the great web made me feel this almost childlike excitement: the world is full with wonderful people living what Lama Yeshe would call a ‘joyful and useful’ life, I only know of such a small fraction of them and yet they’re everywhere and here is another one!

Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash