Life Pulse

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Photo Credit : Vikram Phale “Flow through the Dense”

It is a slow moving subtle force
This one that comes from the Source
It is an incessant life pulse
Felt at times as a powerful surge

It permeates through the Being
It cuts through the dense, deeply piercing
It makes all the living truly alive
You feel every feeling very live

Itself as so relentless, makes you so too
Joy or pain, no difference in your pursuit
Unimagined moments lead you to a curve
Sometimes hairpin turns that rightly serve

The thrill is not knowing exactly how
A day set out on, as you think now
Would turn out, you just go humbly wow
All miracalised, you simply flow

The awe is in the process of it all
How all of this adventure
Is something really so internal
As you keep finding way through external

 


Have you checked my new page? Yoga – My Work & Life

P. S. This post is a contribution to ForgivingFridays of dear Debbie. May we flow through Life with forgiveness and gratitude, for self and others.

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Breathe life

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Photo Credit : Vikram Phale “BE in harmony with yourSelf”

While significantly playing our roles on earth …parent, son/daughter, employee/employer, relator/related in every/any possible way …somewhere we are always trying to connect with the individual in us. We are trying to make sense about what brings us pain and joy. To make choices that work for us best.

If we are not giving any regard, during the day, to the fact that we are breathing …how else are we, in any more effective way, connecting with ourselves? We came in alive on earth with our first breath in and we will leave when we last breathe out. If we are not cultivating a full breath, then in a way, we are limiting our possibilities at anything that is called life or life-related. We are cutting short the supply of life force itself, that which propels anything out of us. We put daily demands on our body with such enormous expectations.The quality of our breath determines our experience in our body and life.

If we work with our breath, the breath will work for us, for  lifetime.

When we are forcing, resisting, feeling like nothing works in our favor, not even in our body …it is our turn to work with our body and life. Allow it, nurture it, nourish it, communicate with it. Bring your attention to effective methods and cycles of breath, so that it flows in and out, empty of thinking …and then it is available for the messages from the body. They are not very logical, mental messages in words, they are more intuitive cues that feel more relaxed from within. They lead you towards more integration and choices more in harmony of your being.

 

P.S. Check out the new page added to my site Yoga – My work & life. I am grateful for your time always!

P.S. Dear Debbie, this post is a contribution to ForgivingFridays. I love the space you have created.

What are you really looking at?

I wish to reblog this post for 2 reasons:
1. Now it is updated with a gorgeous image to go with it.
2. I find myself revisiting this process of transformation, letting go and healing. May this season bring us all closer to the Light & Love.
I would love to know your thoughts on this.

Infinite Living

Peeping thru the leaves - starburst at dawn - Kala Pathar beach - Havelock - 1F8A1073 “Peeping through the leaves” by Atanu Chakraborty

There’s an empty glass of water sitting on the counter. It is broken. It is holding together but it has been shattered and has cracks going all direction. I look at it and see just that and nothing else …a piece of broken glass.

If you try to think of a situation or event in life that might have shattered your intact way of being …what do you really think of ? A situation that has cracked your core and wounded you open in places? Or something that has been bothering you very much since yesterday or last week? The broken glass probably doesn’t really represent anything to you. Life is perfect …except that this person, yesterday or last week, did not behave well, had a wrong attitude, did not do exactly like you expected or even deserved. My glass is as intact as…

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Suffering

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Photo Credit: Vikram Phale

Suffering is a sweet poison
One that seems to come without a choice
It stings sharp and deep
While it releases the nectar of Truth
It ends only after it has revealed
What’s hiding underneath

Yes, you surely dislike it
It asks for a new way of being
Once you embrace it
It’s definitely more than sweet

Lot of times we dislike what we need
And need what we dislike
Suffering makes sure we choose
That which we Must choose

It cracks us open to the light of our soul
May you now play any role
Your truth will behold

Makes you wonder who chose who
You chose the suffering
Or the suffering You

Art of Creation

An artist picks up a paintbrush
To create a view
Knows intently each color and every hue

An artist of life, similarly
Picks up from a palette of emotion
Lends a hand to Creation
Knows each one very intensely
Pain & Joy, Anger & Love, Fear & more
In all their potency
Has felt them all to the core

Picks up on the shades of feeling
As they keep emerging
Knows exactly what would appear on the canvas of life

Both are very skilled at knowing
When to put down the brush or use some more …

Just how did the writer in me get born?

When drippings from a touched soul find their way in writing
A poet is born

When the beauty is undying and the joy so fulfilling
A poem is born

When feelings are heart wrenching and clarity is killing
A poem is born

When a surge comes as discomfort and words pour out
A writer is born

When the harmony felt is such that there is no choice but rhyme
A poem is born

When made-up words bring meaning and no-rhyme verse feels musical
A poetry is born

When living alive to feelings, words come to life
A writer is born

When clarity becomes more intense than the pain that afforded it
A writer is born

When no human around can suffice to contain the expression
A poetry is born

When a release is looking to flow out at an unearthly hour
A writer is born

When words choose the person as if a channel
A writer is born

When none can be planned to rhyme or reason
A poet is born

When human spirit gets broken to million-times-ten pieces, yet finds beauty
A poet is born

When Life decides to peel back layers of truth down to the core
A writer is born

When each level of façade is stripped down to bare soul
A writer is born

When all the suffering was a gift, lived through or let through
A writer is born

When there is no knowing if there is more from where it came from
A writer is reborn

When it comes from a place that is hard to own
A writer is born

When the essence of being is wrung out in best expression
A poetry is born

When it feels like a soft glove over the brutal thing
A poetry is born

When the loneliness in truthfulness is more than can enjoy yet
A writer is born

When inspirations come out of nowhere as if universal cues
A poet is born

Every story a writer writes may not be the writer’s story
But then the writer lives within herself
A thousand lives or the stories of lifetimes
Often that of all of humankind

So if you can just rest
In the drippings of the writers’s soul
Momentarily let go off the sufferings you insist on
A writer would feel content for being born.

My greatest hurt

If you lie to me and I have no clue
I guess I am innocent, and so are you
I, to the ways you wish to deceive
You, to the ways I wholly perceive

If you lie to me and I feel it
Yet I hold space for you with love
To live out that lie truthfully,
I am seeing you way above
Your need to lie to me

If you lie to me and I come to know of it
And you knew I needed to trust you
That is when I experience what I must
Untruthfulness is my greatest hurt

If I have ever been cause for your pain
I sincerely hope it is because of a truth
I know how heartbreakingly  a lie can cut
Untruthfulness is my greatest hurt