Swinging in the Park, Summer 2010

Swinging in the Park, Summer 2010
By zenjew

He insists, crying, pointing
To the swing beside him--

Our swinging is as easily rhythmic
As the first yellowed leaf,
Drifting, swaying,
Suspended
In the late afternoon sun

Before grazing the gravely cheek
Of a father too young.

Later, I follow behind him as he
Wobbles, skips, runs--
Breathing lightly
Turning quickly
Smiling into my eyes,
Forever busy—

He’s always been alive
We’ve always
Gone to the park—

And allow myself

The breath,
The tearful smile
that is already gone.

Where Does the Journey Begin?

I first heard this poem more than years ago.

My guitar teacher gave me two gifts upon departing: Eckhart Tolle's "Power of Now" which transformed irreversibly my thinking...and a recording of David Whyte's "Poems of Self-Compassion". The first of the gifts opened my eyes to new worlds; the second gift sustained me even when I fell into old worlds.

The first--and in my opinion, most important and most powerful--poem on the recording about self-compassion was Mary Oliver's "The Journey". Read it, repeat it; let it be your mantra.

Remember: the only life you can save is your own, but by doing so, you have re-claimed a place for that life that is really the world's. Such a gesture may seem selfish, but it is the most self-less offering you can give the world: your own life.

"The Journey"
by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Statement of Purpose: Blogging About Non-Duality

What is non-duality?

Is it a mystical perception? Is it an abiding awareness of "reality"?

What follows is a great passage in the modern literary canon that describes this self-less awareness of an objective state:

"I was six when I saw that everything was God, and my hair stood up, and all that," Teddy said. "It was on a Sunday, I remember. My sister was only a very tiny child then, and she was drinking her milk, and all of a sudden I saw that she was God and the milk was God. I mean, all she was doing was pouring God into God, if you know what I mean."

-"Teddy" by J.D. Salinger (included in Nine Stories)

What I hope to explore in this blog is the conversation between the East and West regarding non-duality in literature, religion, philosophy, and particularly in the now-emerging exploration of the possible affinities between the traditions of Jewish thought and the currents of Taoist, Buddhist, and Hindi thought.