Tuesday, June 05, 2007
I Shall Abase Myself (poem)
(This morning when I was in a somewhat somber mood, I wrote this poem. Then shortly afterwards I did my "practice," and once again felt the exquisite energies flow--mostly in the head, hands, arms, and torso. These sensations felt like liquid light stroking the body. And--when I tried different hand mudras--I felt the energies pulse in different places. Another truly rapturous experience. And another time when I wish I had a wise teacher to explain all this, or at least someone who is also familiar with this particular kind of experience. But then I remind myself that my best teacher is the one I already follow--the teacher within.
I think my friend Jeannine expresses this notion (that joy and pain often intermingle or come quickly one after the other) quite well. She thinks of the shifting moods as a chord with many notes, all resonating with the others, and none cancelling the others.
And I think it is this knowledge, this memory of possibility based on those experiences of radiance which have come to us in the past, which takes us through the "down times," when the spirit flags and questions the worth of the self and the journey.
I Shall Abase Myself
I shall starve myself,
become a shadow
among shadows,
a dark figure flitting
among the branches.
I shall abase myself,
a thousand times over
under the moon,
beneath the ancient tree.
I shall call out in the night,
cry until my voice is heard.
I shall be alone
as I circle the mountain
endlessly
and know that aloneness
is who I am.
(But then...the radiance.)
Dorothy Walters
June 5, 2007
