Of Faith & Fear

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“Faith feels expansive & brings gifts magical” Photo Credit : Vikram Phale

Faith in something
That you are in doubt ruminating
Feels to me more like fear
If it never helps your mind go clear

Faith in something merely habitual
That comes more from a need to control
Feels to me like fear and a certain limitation
If it does not bring any relief or evolution

Faith in another human
That becomes how you are dependent
Feels to me another escape of fear
If it doesn’t show you your path clear

Faith that is instilled when juvenile
That often makes authentic choice seem criminal
Feels to me a crop of anxiety fertile
If you sense different, as if your life is futile

Faith is something incredible
That makes your choice seem inevitable
Feels to you more like most logical
If it even is something that seems impossible

Faith in something beyond thinking
That is beyond ideas of exact executing
Feels to me beyond need of explanation
If at work, no fear or anxiety in question

Faith flows as if a knowing of reality
That comes of the Self, not of your owning
Feels always assured, never unsteady
If you find it, no place for fear or anxiety

 

P.S. Someone sent me a question “What is my fear or anxiety trying to tell me?” I asked myself ” What is the opposite of fear?” “Faith” came the answer to my mind. This poem came in response to her question. If I am lucky I might come to know if I answered her question. I am eager to know all comments and interpretations, or more questions on this.

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Let it unravel …

I just recently started using images on my blog. This photo from a personal trip led me to revisit this poem from about a year ago. As if they belonged together 🙂 While it would be a repeat to some of my blogger friends, I gave in to the strong temptation of a reblog of this poem with it’s new-found image. Look forward to having your thoughts 🙂

Infinite Living

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Elusive illusion
Desolate delusion

Overthinked opinions
Painful ponderance

Evergrown emotion
Sullen stupefaction

Managing memories
Feeling felt-sense

Blocked blight-head
Heavy heartache

Perpetually present
Adamant attachment

Sneakingly seething
Desired detachment

Tired tenacity
Silent sanity

Lingered longing
Lifetime’s lugging

Dissatisfied destiny
Emerging epiphany

Liquefying lament
Braving boredom

Releasing resistance
Teasing tangles

Identified intention
Trickled tune-in

Soothing simplicity
Soul seeking

Benign being
Breathing n Being

Rising resourceful
Juicy joyful

Wakened wisdom
Amazing alignment

Mindful miracle
Iterant infinitum

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Finding My Balance

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Golden Sunrise at Sea by Atanu Chakraborty

I find a place…for my elbow to rest on. A platform that is a good space to give me relief. My elbow finds balance on a solid surface, my head rests in my palm sideways. My mind finds some moments of peace.

The platform turns out to be a floating piece. It starts to shift, putting my elbow and my rest, out of balance. I could rely on it but only for a while.

Pulses of life, stir through the surroundings of the iceberg where I was resting my elbow. The solidity of the iceberg now seems shaken.

Shock of the coldness hits my face as the elbow slides off. I am thrown out of my comfort space.

I have been seeking concepts and beliefs and relations and interactions to depend on, for balance. To rely on, when challenged. Only to find out that they are all floating icebergs.

Lean on anything a bit too much, and you plunge into the cold deep abyss of the sea of truthful revelations, eventually.

Some icebergs are memories that we escape to. Trying to find any semblance of joy or pleasure or balance or support that we felt at a different time. As all icebergs, this one too, serves only for a while.

I have sought it in persons and relationships sometimesOnly that I am an iceberg for others too, sought out to balance some need in them. Oftentimes, each ends up blaming the other iceberg, for not staying steady and still, for them to lean on.

I decide to walk on to dry grounds, with none of the unreliable icebergs around to entice me. There are trees to rest under and the lush grass on solid ground, looks fulfilling. I will now depend on the nurturing Mother Earth to hold me, to support me. I find rest in the shade under a vibrant tree.

It seems like I have found my solace and semblance of balance that I can finally rely on. Only until …the winds start howling and the skies turn dark and shower me with piercing drops of revelations, leaving me drenched in the cold again.

Sometimes it wasn’t even the furious weather that left me all lost on the face of the planet. My own thoughts could create a tornado within, that left me as if, there is no ground to stand on.

“Where do I really rest? Mother Earth! Where on earth can I just rest?” I cried in despair, kneeling down with my head hung low.

Mother Earth, as if smiled, while continuing her own journey through the void, around the sun, not knowing what, comets and storms and humans, might hurl at her, at any time.

Nothing seems to be at rest. Relentless movement. We go on while coloring our perception with the illusion of support and stability.

At times, memories of someone and the conversations, color our days or months. Giving a sense of balance to the emptiness in the place we call home. The home that stands on the compassion of the planet and it’s time bound stability.

There are times I am totally present with those physically with me. And I become aware of the hurricanes within them, uprooting my sense of balance.

I also often become dependent on other people for my soul nourishment and direction to my human mind. Every time I become completely dependent, that iceberg plops under.

In my sane mind I realize that they have gone away seeking their own nourishment, or might have faltered their own of self depletion. In my human mind I sometimes blame them for not being there for me anymore.

After many such hurricanes and toppling under of icebergs, I finally realize there is this vast ocean of space within me. The more I dive into the center of it, the more stability I find.

I begin to sit with myself more often, without leaning.

I feel more grounded as I allow a deep breath in, into the expansiveness of my being, and empty it out from the core of my being, as softly and smoothly as I can. The more I rely on my own ability, to glide on the current of the life force, flowing through me with the breath, the more rooted I get in the stability of my own being. The platform I lean on is not tangible yet so plausible.

A sense of trust and surrender and choices of possibility and tremendous courage, gives me an easy resolve of steadiness, and the experience of innate balance.

I wobble at times, escape into known comforts sometimes, fear the unknown darkness sometimes, and then find my balance again, as I recognize it all for what it is.

The darkness is pure nothing until I fill it with something. Its spirit is illuminated with each breath and awareness that comes. The silence is rich with the knowing and the perceiving and the feeling that guides me, unless it is purely divine silence.

A warmth develops within me, that balances out the coldness of any sharp revelations. It flows through me, which feels like love in some form or kind.

That’s how, I find my center and balance, time and again, until I fall off, time and again …

 

Originally published in This Glorious Mess on Medium

Perfect Duos

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Photo by Pragalbha Doshi

Amazement & Gratitude

Contentment & Solitude

Accomplishment & Finitude

Refinement & Attitude

Commitment & Certitude

Moment & Quietude

Judgment & Perspective

Alignment & Aptitude

Enlightenment & Fortitude

Detachment & Habitude

I am so amazed of what gratitude can do, and so grateful for the amazements that come my way.

P.S. This came out of some moments of boredom in the day. I would love to know your thoughts, even if you think this was kind of boring 🙂
Peering into the beautiful flowers and then pairing these words did take my boredom away.

 

A Wall to Knock on

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Photo Credit : Vikram Phale

 

The wall that keeps them out
Also keeps you in

The rift in the Self is always about
Building one or tearing one down

A wall to keep knocking on
Becomes our frantic escape

From the often tumultuous journey
Through the inner landscape

As if a game of breaking it off in freedom
From the often perceived boredom

The game becomes wonted & imperative
To keep finding a wall to crash into

As if there is no end to the fight in you
So seek it out in everything you walk into

What if we each keep our place
While we intersect in this delicious space

Where we share our appreciation and apprehension
Not needing a wall for separation

The wall that keeps them out
Also keeps you in

 

Dear Debbie, please accept this poem as a contribution to ForgivingFridays. I adore your posts.

Silent Reflection

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Photograph by Pragalbha Doshi

This silence
This silence today
It is a rich one

This silence
This silence in this moment
It is full

This silence
This silence right now
It is empty

This silence
This silence quiet
It is a new one

Heart feels to the brim
Soul seeks nothing
Wisdom knows, this is no whim

My existence wants to stay still
Not reaching nor releasing
Words any don’t suffice or fulfill

All lessons learned until
Are to be made into living
There is no sense of striving

Being with myself isn’t excruciating
Yet this silence is something
That would want to unload some desiring

This silence
This silence today
It is revealing

There is indeed
A contentment underneath
A clarity from without and within

A Young Dilemma

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Thinking Man – by Vikram Phale

 

The Dilemma of Spirituality at younger ages and stages …

What is it that is in store for me?
This is a unsettling mystery to me

Why is that every person that I meet
Is just a passing lesson to me?

Is it possible to have a ‘normal’ life
And yet pursue the enlightened one?

And what would this possibility mean
For those who depend on me?

I wish they don’t suffer
Because of my confusion
Of what life is to me

If left on my own
I would live the path of a Seeker

For now I tend to forage
The source of truth, in the most mundane manner

There is fear though of getting lost
Or losing the ones loved most

Oh is there a possibility to cross this bridge
With one rope in each hand?
And not this heart-wrenching tug of war
In the relentless strive to somewhere reach?

This poem was first published on The Glorious Mess on Medium.
Thank you TrE of A cornered gurl for your kind support on this publication.