Renée; if Rumi couldn't figure out "who I am", perhaps we're not meant to truly know; but we must investigate, as you say and know, for the mystery draws us toward it. How could we not search for the truth; living in a body, having a mind, being conscious, and living on this ball we call earth, moving through the vastness of the universe at unbelievable speeds?! Here is Rumi trying his best: "All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there. This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When I get back to that place, I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile, I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary. The day is coming when I fly off. But who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? Who says words with my mouth? Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks. I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way. Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home. This poetry; I never know what I'm going to say. When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet, and rarely speak at all." And maybe that's a clue: silence; quieting the mind; and ultimately being ok not truly knowing "who I am". For me, the fact that I can feel love is enough sometimes.
Ed, Rumi shows us the longing, doesn't he: "This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When I get back to that place, I'll be completely sober. . . . who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? [and so on] I cannot stop asking. . . ."
"When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet, and rarely speak at all": an apophatic hush in the midst of That which is longed for. The Presence that calls us to It is That which silences us in our presence with It. Love, indeed. Thank you, Ed.
"'I see that I never allow an experience to take place in myself. I always resist the full experience. This is because I want to lead it. I do not trust the experience. I trust only me. Because of this, it does not transform me. When I begin to perceive a subtle Presence in myself, I feel it as something alive that calls for its action to be felt. But I cannot feel its action deeply because I am separated from it by a wall of tensions, that is, of my mental reactions.'"
Ah, quoting a quote--is there a more ironic example of mental reactions strengthening a wall of tensions?
Thank you, dear Renée, for your wisdom and for culling from other wisdom keepers who shine light through the ego/intellect-generated impediments on the path into my heart.
Becky, it could be said that quoting a quote is an ironic example of mental reactions strengthening a wall of tensions. Yes, that could be said. It could also be said that quoting a quote, the physical act of manually tran/scribing letters, ligatures, words, phrases, sentences, and so on ad infinitum, is the act of embodying the passage as an experience in another coming alive in the one who transcribes! 🤓🙃😉 And in this case of transcribing de Salzmann, embodying the level of being.
Thank you for this glimpse into your inner journal and the turnings of your heart Renee.
de Salzmann's nudge that sensation is almost the only instrument for self-knowledge opened a concept I had not considered with my brain but have lived in with my heart. Their ability to so accurately capture this is amazing because, yes!, sensation is the gateway to everything we can know about ourself. Yet, like de Salzmann, I too rarely allow myself to fully experience sensation. I find myself holding tightly to the 'good' ones and turning away from the 'bad' ones.
Donna, something in me quivered just a touch when I read that "de Salzmann's nudge" about sensation opened something up in you--the recognition that this knowing already lived in your heart, your innermost. In the Awakening to the Heart course, for two weeks we explored this quality of knowing through the heart, which you have so beautifully touched here--sensation, the gateway, as you say, and yet, how rarely we allow ourselves to fully experience the sensation before we're on to the next 'good' one, even if that last one was 'good'. Thank you for sharing, Donna.
Kimberly, you inspire me endlessly: book tour, writing, interviews, and taking the time to read and reflect on others here, BTCZ included amongst them. Thank you.
de Salzmann, I am told, was a master at embodied presence to perception. It shows in her writing. It is not a life everyone would choose, but reading her, one does get the sense that it is a path to another level of being. So, here's to perceptual porosity!
Intriguing reflections to read this Sunday evening. I've gone down the route of WHAT I am, by which time {when figured out :) }, I'm reckoning WHO I am will be self-evident. Hmmmm.
Maurice Nichol - long time since I read him - (have got 'Portrait of a Vertical Man', and 'The Mark') - much to learn from these types of thinkers.
Joshua, thank you for reading and taking the time to reflect here. I echo you on the route of WHO becoming self-evident in the mirror of WHAT. There is a certain quality of precision in Nicoll's writing, de Salzmann, too; the precision seems to emanate from the quality of presence. And, as you say, there is much to learn from them.
So good to see you here. I appreciate your contribution to this week's reflections.
Renée; if Rumi couldn't figure out "who I am", perhaps we're not meant to truly know; but we must investigate, as you say and know, for the mystery draws us toward it. How could we not search for the truth; living in a body, having a mind, being conscious, and living on this ball we call earth, moving through the vastness of the universe at unbelievable speeds?! Here is Rumi trying his best: "All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there. This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When I get back to that place, I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile, I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary. The day is coming when I fly off. But who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? Who says words with my mouth? Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks. I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way. Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home. This poetry; I never know what I'm going to say. When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet, and rarely speak at all." And maybe that's a clue: silence; quieting the mind; and ultimately being ok not truly knowing "who I am". For me, the fact that I can feel love is enough sometimes.
Ed, Rumi shows us the longing, doesn't he: "This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When I get back to that place, I'll be completely sober. . . . who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? [and so on] I cannot stop asking. . . ."
"When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet, and rarely speak at all": an apophatic hush in the midst of That which is longed for. The Presence that calls us to It is That which silences us in our presence with It. Love, indeed. Thank you, Ed.
"'I see that I never allow an experience to take place in myself. I always resist the full experience. This is because I want to lead it. I do not trust the experience. I trust only me. Because of this, it does not transform me. When I begin to perceive a subtle Presence in myself, I feel it as something alive that calls for its action to be felt. But I cannot feel its action deeply because I am separated from it by a wall of tensions, that is, of my mental reactions.'"
Ah, quoting a quote--is there a more ironic example of mental reactions strengthening a wall of tensions?
Thank you, dear Renée, for your wisdom and for culling from other wisdom keepers who shine light through the ego/intellect-generated impediments on the path into my heart.
Becky, it could be said that quoting a quote is an ironic example of mental reactions strengthening a wall of tensions. Yes, that could be said. It could also be said that quoting a quote, the physical act of manually tran/scribing letters, ligatures, words, phrases, sentences, and so on ad infinitum, is the act of embodying the passage as an experience in another coming alive in the one who transcribes! 🤓🙃😉 And in this case of transcribing de Salzmann, embodying the level of being.
"It could also be said that..." I always delight at the end of a sentence you begin that way, and am the better for it!
And you, dear Friend, make this heart smile.
“Misty fog, thick in the air, a sense of something there.” Beautiful. I love moments like these.
Holly, thank you for reading and taking an extra moment to comment. I love moments like these, too.
Quoting a quote/r,
“I love moments like these” too!
Sensed spiral widens? 🌀
That it does!
Thank you for this glimpse into your inner journal and the turnings of your heart Renee.
de Salzmann's nudge that sensation is almost the only instrument for self-knowledge opened a concept I had not considered with my brain but have lived in with my heart. Their ability to so accurately capture this is amazing because, yes!, sensation is the gateway to everything we can know about ourself. Yet, like de Salzmann, I too rarely allow myself to fully experience sensation. I find myself holding tightly to the 'good' ones and turning away from the 'bad' ones.
Donna, something in me quivered just a touch when I read that "de Salzmann's nudge" about sensation opened something up in you--the recognition that this knowing already lived in your heart, your innermost. In the Awakening to the Heart course, for two weeks we explored this quality of knowing through the heart, which you have so beautifully touched here--sensation, the gateway, as you say, and yet, how rarely we allow ourselves to fully experience the sensation before we're on to the next 'good' one, even if that last one was 'good'. Thank you for sharing, Donna.
I returned to your phrase “perceptual porosity” this morning and then reading this it came alive!
Kimberly, you inspire me endlessly: book tour, writing, interviews, and taking the time to read and reflect on others here, BTCZ included amongst them. Thank you.
de Salzmann, I am told, was a master at embodied presence to perception. It shows in her writing. It is not a life everyone would choose, but reading her, one does get the sense that it is a path to another level of being. So, here's to perceptual porosity!
Intriguing reflections to read this Sunday evening. I've gone down the route of WHAT I am, by which time {when figured out :) }, I'm reckoning WHO I am will be self-evident. Hmmmm.
Maurice Nichol - long time since I read him - (have got 'Portrait of a Vertical Man', and 'The Mark') - much to learn from these types of thinkers.
Joshua, thank you for reading and taking the time to reflect here. I echo you on the route of WHO becoming self-evident in the mirror of WHAT. There is a certain quality of precision in Nicoll's writing, de Salzmann, too; the precision seems to emanate from the quality of presence. And, as you say, there is much to learn from them.
So good to see you here. I appreciate your contribution to this week's reflections.
Presence, embodied*
“Perceptual porosity”
Renée resonates~