love song

Wow. What is this about?

check this out.  I just found it on my friend's blog.

talk about exploring vaginas

could you link to a recording / video of this song? 

I wish to hear you sing.

How are  you doing?

This first one literally jumped out of the pack:

Five of Water: Spilling

Painfully, you feel that relationships are transient and impermanent; do not rely so much on others for love; when it seems like the "cups" of your life have spilled--and all your love has emptied out--you will discover that you still have a major reservoir: your own source of internal love, do not forget that! Look inside yourself and you will se that of five cups, only three have spilled, two are still standing and spewing light everywhere!

And the second...

The Magus

Know, will, dare and keep silent; you possess and wield the tools of magical change; you are a visionary, but it is not necessary to express this to others; trust the lessons of your own experience and insight; you embody force and power--you hold ever key to create change, you have all the resources you need-- but only if you operate through focused action, the second mode of empowerment; be ready to create your world in the image of your choosing.

Enjoy!!

    I didn’t want to sit.   I have been overwhelmed by downpours of emotions, like the summer storms that constantly sweep through this city.   It is just what it is; a part of me. To fight only makes the storms more powerful.   But these feelings (and the thoughts that go with them) arrive again and again and again . I must work with them or else they lead me down to depression’s door.   I took my cushion to the little balcony outside my bedroom.   I placed it in front of potted flowers..  The great “eastern sun” was shining on the side of my face.   My heart was full of sadness and fear, worrying about things that have not get happened.   As a child, people used to refer to me – in not an endearing way – as a faucet of tears that constantly turned on and off, on and off.   I am feeling this way now.   I take a step, I smile.  I take another step, I cry.  It is always about the fear of change.

     I couldn’t get comfortable.   I kept crying.   I settled for a moment.  Then I was uncomfortable and had to wiggle about to position myself.   Each time I settled, I cried.  I focused on a marigold that was hanging over the edge of a large round pot.  Its pedals are deep yellow, fringed by orange.  Gradually I began to see this flower pedal by pedal.  Then it became whole again; the colors blending into a magnificent sun.  The space between me and the flower “dissolved.”  We were together with no separation between us.   The sounds of the birds filled my head.   The mockingbirds, the sparrows, the cardinals and wrens were flying and singing.  There were bird songs that I did not recognize.    Behind me, in the house, Mr. Plumbean was chattering.   The sounds encircled and embraced me. 

      When my sitting ended, I felt calmer.   I had a break from myself to find myself.  The churning inside me is still here; the tears are still resting on the edge of my consciousness.  But so is hope.  So is another smile.   Another flower.  Another bird song.  

And the truest and most sublime kind, the kind that seeks lovingkindness and depth, that longs for death of the troubled mind, that winds through the paths of doubts tangled up in luminosity, because it is not yet felt.  “it is all for you to see/if you’ll climb inside of me.”  Is this not the height of male desire, transcending the masculine through the transformation of the penis into the phallus into the lingam which, at its most erect, is an opening to receive?  Yes, at the height of love, the penis is vagina-penis, the most intimate sacred spaces of tantra.  “it is all for you to see” and for you all to see if you will climb inside the looking of my looking.   But, James, always self-admittedly, is filled with terror, though he is not fully clear what that terror is.  You know because he puts up an “awful fight” which, in truth, is really only awful to him.  To me, it’s the most beautiful fight because it’s not a fight; it’s a struggle to be free from the strictures and deprivation of his youth.   

it is all for you to touch

if you're touched by love as such

your eyes offer me no lies

i will give you as much

  Are these not the most delicate and refined notes of authenticity and seeking?  What makes James so authentic is his willingness to own his limitations, his innocence and vulnerability.  He no longer needs to be right, he needs to be intimate, and his only fight is to make that intimacy crystallize as a vessel of blood, bones and lips for two lovers passaging.  

“but there's a witness to the dream/things are always as they seem.”  This slightly aporic contemplation is the dream itself playing out a philosophical truth.  This is all dream, and the only aspect of consciousness that’s real or beyond the dream is the Witness who, through bearing witness, untangles the slings and arrows of conceptuality itself, upon which the veil of fear is lifted. 

But, even the witness needs a mirror before the mirror itself ultimately dissolves.  And so, we make love, we engage in the intimate so that we can break through body itself.  Yes, we drown and die in each other’s bodies, and then come up for air, and look again, with and without words.

we are just to look again

we are just to understand

when i see, when i see

when i see you there

And we repeat this act, this rite of passage, over and over again, until love like a salty wave or tear, smoothes out the edges of fear.  Though still “unrefind,” James knows, and knowing is his faith and stone to carry with him.  He will see because he will grieve the losses he needs to grieve; and he will love and carry all of us with him, even when he leaves; especially when he leaves, because James is a love song.

 hey folks -- so here's the youtube for the love song. i just made it! :D

thank you for your responses Om, Noah, camila, Em, and Ezra (btw, Ezra -- Om did a pretty good job answering your question in his response :) hope you guys like hearing it.

 James, there is a such a peaceful settling feeling to this song and the way you dissolve and fold into it is breathtaking.  

I was talking to a friend of mine about relationship and she was upset because her partner “betrayed” her.  I asked how this was so.  She said that he cheated on her, he slept with another woman.  After further inquiry, I informed her that if in fact her partner truly betrayed her, he would never have slept with another woman.  How is this so?  I said that if we stay true to the most sacred teachings on and principles of intimacy, or relationship or, better yet, on spiritual practice, then betrayal would be defined as a process of a deep faith and following which, at some point, transforms the listening into a new voice of expression.  The true Other is born out of the relational mirror.  On the other hand, if either partner fails to listen deeply to the relationship, an old pattern will likely be sustained which, in fact, represents a loyalty to an old relational system, and acting out as a symptom to that loyalty could likely occur. 

Hearing fireworks that I can't see, seems to be

a very disheartening experiance.

(There are fireworks being set off the roof of my building at the moment, and while I can hear them, and see their relective glow on the building across the street, I cannot see them fully for myself and that makes me anxious.  I'm missing out.)

Feeling, and not being able to fully share, presents a similar feeling of anxiety. And fear. I'll miss out. The fireworks will stop before I can climb the stairs to the roof.

from the depth of subject

to the death of subject

to the insatiable breath

breaking through the next

barrier of awareness

and the next and next

through the murky, dense

black smoke of thought.

In the sitting, in the silence

in the looking up at my

teacher knowing that

his essence is behind the dots

of that form, but not reaching

him; mind is unable to see more

than the flattened reified form

of its struggle, dying to see more

then the language of its struggle;

dying to taste what it knows is there

and not there and there in the

forms around twenty thousand bucks

I just lost and all the children it could

feed for a year and all the shame

that wants to suck the life out of me;

but it won't, because I'm gonna sit here

until I die or until I awaken from these

delusions and illusions obstructing

my view; I'm gonna yogi my way

into smithereens and blow mind

open like a gaping hole a suicide

bomber just blew out, until every last

dime shits out of the hole, until silence

opens the view and the dizzying dying

sound of rain hitting the Cambodian tin

roofs of mind give way to the real

fragrant blooms of my teacher's

smile, where the dimes shat out

of my hole finally paid off the debt

of my parents and their parents

and their parents and all the parents

and all the beings of my parents

shitting me out of the karmic merry-

go-'round; I just want to get off this

ride and look into his eyes and

know the pain has stopped.

continuing the conversation, as it were. i've been travelling uptown to practice yoga with the Nomads these last two weeks. i'm hoping to go more frequently, but as yet i've just gone on mondays. yesterday (monday) i left my apartment at about 630, caught the bus crosstown to the 1 train uptown. on the way there i wrote some lyrics; when i was waiting for the train back downtown several hours later i began singing them, and when i got home at around 1AM i quickly put some chords together. i made a quick recording, which i'll share with you now. i hope to make a better one, and i've been experimenting with different ways of singing this song -- but the quick first recording captures much of the energy of the words. it's currently titled, "hard to take," but we may as well call it "the yoga of betrayal" for the blog. i think the volume should be okay.

the recording

-----

sometimes i think you don't know what's in store

you have vowed to be faithful quite unlike before

i can chant "we're official" now that we've been through

call the act superficial all you want

call it cheating, betrayal, or just fucking hard to take

i will follow you into the bath you've prepared

but why are you surprised that i'm scared?

i'm so happy to say i'm excited, as well

it's been years since what they put me through

now i'm trying to take steps with you, it's hard to take

cut me back open : see something to mend

you can trust me in all my mixed messages

you're holding the boy, you're in love with the man

with patience we'll scare the boy to death

then i'll finally be whole and give something hard to take

well, i've touched you and tasted, i'm new to your scent

when you asked for a song this ain't quite what you meant

but your body has hinted at secrets you'll share

i know we're just both used to pain

we've been giving our loved ones in vain, it's hard to take

now we have both seen it break

you can push me and push me i know just how hard to take

I’ve read Caterina and Emily’s posts --really contemplations-- on betrayal (three in all) and feel such appreciation for the openness and wisdom of these thoughts.  They are filled with so many of what I consider for myself key points that I decided to organize them with titles so that I could better respond to them in a coherent way (to this end, I quoted either Em or Cat followed by a question or statement).  The two of you have challenged me to articulate even more clearly the way I talk about betrayal, particularly the complexity engendered in its very idea.  My initial post was really focused on another kind of betrayal, what I call the “necessary betrayal” of paradigm shifts, the shift of the acolyte (to follow) from a deep loyalty to a text (teaching/relationship) to the emergence of one’s own unique voice which represents a transcendence but inclusion of the earlier perspective from which one’s new knowledge or understanding emerged. 

I was attempting to apply this theoretical formulation to relationship, the belief systems learned in childhood which foster loyalty but which often undermine true autonomy, individuality and freedom, the three modes of existence I value most.  To betray the “old” system is in fact a reaching for a psychological and spiritual freedom vis-à-vis acts of autonomy (self-assertiveness) and modes of individuality and identity formation (“individuating”).  This type of betrayal differs from but is related to the acts of betrayal described by Emily and Catherine in their posts.  It is different because the betrayal I describe here represents the necessary transformation required for one’s personal evolution, one’s development and growth.  The betrayal that Em and Cat describe represents a “breech” (great word, Em) in trust and undermines the intimacy and honesty and openness required for a personal evolution of consciousness.  However, this second type of betrayal is related, in that betrayal itself is what I would define as, a form of “protest,” the individual’s often unconscious attempt to point to something wrong in his/her need to grow.  The key here between both of these forms of betrayal is the level of awareness the individual brings to the acts of betrayal.  If one remains unconscious, a repetition of old unhealthy patterns will occur which, in fact, will completely undermine, not only the intimacy of the relationship, but more importantly, one’s healing (to make whole) and personal growth.   

So, the question is: does betrayal, an act of protest, represent a transformative shifting in awareness, or a repetition of old patterns which leave the individual loyal to a system that undermines her growth-- autonomy, individuality and freedom?

To answer this question, we need to decenter the experience from moralistic judgment to a psychological understanding.  This is in fact what James was pointing out in his post.  

Loyalty and Attuning To The Other’s Needs

“The men I have been most loyal to never offered me a conventional model of relationship.  I say "loyal" in that I sought with sincere intention in these relationships to really listen to and understand their limitations and needs.  And I stayed with them, near them, loyal to what I have felt as a strong desire to love them (just arises naturally), despite the suffering caused in me by their inability to turn completely towards the relationship, because I sensed in them a desire for intimacy.  I sensed that I could help them (and me) find it.  I hoped that through my acceptance of their needs, by giving them space, they would feel safer opening to me.”

The question I have here is: when does this “strong desire to love them” become a kind of pathological accommodation?  That is, when does loving another undermine one’s own health in the guise of helping them to grow?

Feeling Recognized

“I am contemplating how this patient space-giving and intimacy-cultivation allow me also to feel recognized in the relationship for my ability to think "outside the box".  I imagine that they will learn to feel safer with me and in those baby steps, will carry the memory of what it means to walk slowly into intimacy.  I imagine there is a certain gratitude that is cultivated along that walk, a private and special place we have carved out, and in the quiet ah-ha moments a certain sense of where we are (or one is) headed if we stay in this flow together, supporting one another.”  

This is beautiful and I ask: how do we know that our partner is capable of that intimacy we are striving for in the relationship?  It seems to me that there is a connection between the need to feel recognized (and commitment to meeting that need) and the awareness and wisdom to discern the capability (not capacity!!!) of our partners.  For example, if I am clear what feeling recognized feels like, and I deem recognition an absolute requirement for me to be in relationship, then a clearer sense of my partner’s capability will be revealed.

Empathy for Other and Self

“I cannot say that I lacked empathy in those moments of "betrayal".  I felt too strongly what "discovery" might have meant.  I think rather that I was struggling to stay true to a part of myself was wanting to stay free of the relationship and keep the doors open to a voice inside of me that couldn't express itself in the relationship....  I just hadn't found my voice yet, my language, my center.  I used to feel I wanted the romantic fantasy and yet felt simultaneously smothered by it. Acting-out was oddly a way to find my center and recognize the deeper unhappiness.  Of course, each time I was aware that I was doing it because I wanted to leave the relationship but didn't know how to.

Now I think it would be too painful to "cheat"…primarily because if I'm in a relationship I want to stay focused on it, even (especially) when it gets really challenging.  I see no reason to be in a relationship if I'm not going to stay focused.”

I love this formulation because “loyalty” in how Cat uses it here is a mental factor, a focusing rather than a moral injunction.  She is saying that one ought to be loyal (which speaks to my first formulation of betrayal) to fully embrace an understanding of the relationship’s capacity for mirroring and carrying each partner to the heights of their spiritual pursuits.  Empathy here begins with empathy for self. 

Loyalty

“It is my loyalty to a certain paradigm that I need to break through, perhaps. Though I don't know what that paradigm is, exactly, (though I feel it stemming from my relationship with my father) and I wouldn't change a thing about how uniquely I have loved through these relationships.  Nor how much I have received in return through loving.”

Turning Towards The Relationship

“However, I have not yet seen that this practice has ultimately inspired in the man a desire to turn fully toward the relationship in the way that I imagine I would need him to (if my deeper needs of intimacy are to be met).  That turning has to come from him and I don't know that I can inspire in a man this desire unless he already has it, like a seed longing to blossom, as his own desire.  I also have to look at those limitations realistically and recognize that while I might be able to support him in this process, he may not be able to support me.  Perhaps I find security (familiarity) in this as well, as I am used to thinking that I am the one who must ultimately count on myself.  And so there is a sense that at least I know what to do, there are no surprises, I can adapt to what comes up.”  

“That turning has to come from him.”  There is a wisdom here that is gained by a series of failed relationships where Cat has come to realize that she cannot change her partner, that her partner has to have the capacity and be capable of meeting her needs.  

Emotional Betrayal 

“It is not just through sex that there can be an act of betrayal.   In some ways, I think an emotional betrayal is as painful, if not more than sexual betrayal, since sex can simply be an act of sex, while the emotional pulling away is holding back and giving away a part of a relationship in different sort of way. 

The emotional sharing or turning away from a partner seems to be the most serious in that it speaks to the very essence of relationship, and what the spoken or unspoken contract is about.

Sex, without the deep emotional commitment is simply acting out, like a temper tantrum.    I have heard women and men say, “Oh if my husband or wife slept with someone else that would be the end of our marriage,” and I think to myself, that the end of the marriage is that statement, but the sex itself, if it were, for instance grammar would be a series of dots…… after the sentence and not a period.  It is a crying out, but often calls for a continuation.  ( unless, of course, it is meant specifically to end a relationship which I have also seen).”    

Emily, this is so gorgeous.  I love how you separated out the sexual and emotional, though in fact they are ultimately both the same.  Sexual acting out is merely the symptom of an unformulated and unarticulated protest.  And though it very badly hurts the partner (and might result in dissolving the relationship), it is ultimately not about the partner; it is about one’s inability to find and recognize the `I’ who seeks healing and a sufficient amount of self-awareness to begin addressing deeper psychological needs.

The Resolution of Betrayal: Contemplative Practice and Intimacy

“And so I sit.  It's all I can do.  And seek further self-awareness and transparency.”

Thanks, Camila, for the warm wishes of light and love and connection.  I too hope for the same for myself, for you, and everyone else on this blog.  and pretty much anybody else that strives for these suffering-busting feelings.

you're a suffering-busting feeling.

I'll give you a suffering-busting feeling!

Ka-Pow!

only because it's your birthday, I'll let you have the last word.

but we all know you're a softie anyway and wouldn't know a ka-pow from a coronel kung pao chicken.

Here I am.

Tonight Dad's Tai Chi class ended up in one big game of peek-a-boo.

As I struggled with presence (as we always struggle with presence) and a glum, spacy-ness, he tried to ground me and help me back into the world from wherever I had been.

Establish presence. Where am I? Oh, here I am.

Instant success. I could resist his pushes with ease. His challenges were saying "you are over there" and all I had to do was ask where am I? here I am. not over there. and the feet grew roots. no moving me. establishing an I-YOU relationship with myself. with my body-mind.

so where do you go from there?

well if I am here, where are you? Oh, there you are!

and boom. papa goes flying backward.

that's establishing engagement. an I-YOU relationship with the other person. the second step in his five steps to energetic coherence. (oh boy... he's working on another book now. that's why I've been misplacing my car keys and forgetting what day it is.)

so I went from up in the air, tears in the eyes, no ground ceili to present, quasi-coherent, calm ceili with just a couple simple questions that can take less than a second to feel. Thank Buber!

anyway the point is that this is the pinnacle of doing the dishes. just to try being present as much as possible, every day, all the time.

I guess we'll find out what the next steps are in class next week. (oops, I won't be there! good thing I have an insider source)

So where is everyone?

I only have a minute, but saw this conversation about the end and had to pipe in. I think that the blog lulls more then it did before. But persoanlly I like it this way, it gives me a few days to contemplate the topcis and ask more questions when I am ready, before the converstation moves beyond my thoughts.  Om, can you be more clear on what you mean please?

I didn't get a chance to read everyone's comments before I was running from work to an appointment about the end to the blog.  But now that I've had a chance to read I can better understand Om's question (although you never know he could just be trying to get everyone else to come jump back in, good old fashion shock theraphy). And now I have very mixed feelings. I'll have to sit and think about this some more. 

I'm still showing up.  I am dancing around.  Singing too.  I like sandboxes and swings.  I can hang out and be very very cool.   My party isn't over.   I even party when I go to bed.

Hello.   My name is Stella and I just learned about this blog.   I heard that folks were coming and going and some new people were welcome to join.   I've been thinking about it for awhile now, but being a little, shy, I wasn't sure how to introduce myself.  People tell me that I have no depth, but I think they just don't know me.  It's true that my life seems very superficial and that everything in my world has to match - no stripes and dots together, no mixing fabrics or serving two greens at one meal.   I feel that I have made great progess in the last few months.  Last week my bra did not match my underpants.   That was HUGE.  For breakfast I eat a bowl of bran with a half of banana, a cup of drip coffee.

thank you so much for letting me share myself.    I have told a few people I know about this blog.   I am going to try and convince them to just try it out.

in to get a free meal.  I appreciate everyone stepping up to share their thoughts and feelings regarding continuing the blog.  I think Camila said it best for me: " it's healthy to constantly ask ourselves, What are we here for? and, Is this still serving me/ my community?"  This is exactly what I had in mind.  And since we were talking about necessary betrayals and the needs of relationship, it felt to be an appropriate time to ask the question: do we want to continue?  I'm not sure this is merely a lull; it feels more like an ending of some sort, though I am happy to admit that I'm not sure what kind of ending it is. 

I have loved supporting and participating with our blog community, and am particularly proud of Noah for taking this project on.  The conception and birth of the blog will always be a tender and funny story, and I think that Noah's original objective in creating the blog was reached.  What I don't think that he nor I realized was just how profound and transformative an experience it would become for all of us. 

With that said, the blog represents a relationship, and the needs of relationship change over time.  Personally, I could stay here indefinitely.  I write everyday and the blog has been the space for me to express many of my ideas and connect with all of you on very intimate levels.  The truth of the matter is, however, is that our community is small, so that when a few people don't participate, the energy greatly shifts.  For me, if I am to continue, I would need a commitment from others to continue to keep the discourse on the blog at a high level.  That might be asking too much.  As Noah shared, he has pretty much dropped out.  And James would be "content to bury the blog."  Caterina has lost interest (personal communication) and the rest of us show up with less frequency.  Ironically, the once scaredy cat Camila has been a consistent contributor with very beautiful posts.  And so, I'm not sure what I want to do.  Commitment is a big deal to me, and I've hounded Noah and others about it for a while.  I've showed up consistently and posted almost daily along with Emily despite a few times I didn't want to.  I think we both implicitly recognize that relationship is about showing up, even when you don't want to.  This is especially true of a blog where readers, who don't post, check in daily with the expectation of a new communication.  If the communication is not there, there's a good chance they'll move on. 

So, it's time we discuss what we all want as a family/community, whether we as individuals agree or not.  Everyone is completely free to follow their needs but we all need and are responsible to express what those needs are.  This is what family means.  It's a beautiful process and we're all blessed to have each other, even if we decide to leave.  And so, this is a kind of death because we are in transition and, as Nico said, each death is a new birth.

 I see your name logged in and I can feel you, standing right outside the door peering in and saying, "I am not leaving and I will not let you go either."  

I love you and your strength. 

You said Even Emily is starting to hate me.... oh sweetheart you wish!   Where is this coming from?

I

Sri Nisaragadatta Maharaj is the quintessential light of transmission.  He is a supreme conveyor of Realization.   Here, he explains the wisdom of nondual awareness and the vehicle for reaching its peak.  I love his description of meditation.

M: Perfection is a state of mind, when it is pure.  I am beyond mind, whatever its state, pure or impure.  Awareness is my nature; ultimately I am beyond being and non-being.

Q: Will meditation help me to reach your state?

M: Meditation will help you to find your bonds, loosen them, untie them and cast your moorings.  When you are no longer attached to anything, you have done your share.  The rest will be done for you.

 I'm wondering how you're doing today.

If I had only met you via this forum on the blog, I imagine it would be easier for me to take care of our relationship as I recognize it here in this to and fro pulsation and communal vision gathering and giving and receiving thingy.

Having met you, and seen your beautiful energy, and witnessed your softness and kind, open strength (and humor) first hand, I feel almost like I've peered under the skirt of some mysterious mother goddess before now somewhat distant to me but close in the conversation.  Peeking under that skirt, or seeing more of you, (and I swear there was nothing sneaky about it) you became more human, more you, to me.  And that carries with it also more tenderness and a kind of responsibility, I feel, to the real human side of the relationship.  It would be one thing to leave the blog relationship (after a mega-salute and tears of gratitude) but now it feels like we potentially have a real responsibility to one another and I want to take that potentiality nice and slow.

Nice and slow.  

If I responded strongly yesterday to you it was because I felt the need to set a boundary.  Because boundaries are essential to relationship and intimacy.  

But it was not meant to push you away.

You are a part of my life now and I don't know (and don't need to know) exactly how or what shape that is taking.  It is this shape... our sharing, reaching out to one another, seeking honesty and honest connection.  And it will take whatever shape we give it together, like a dance, like a co-creation.

I just want you to know that I am here, and I love you and care about you.

Cat,

You made the boundaries clear yesterday. 

Whatever you think of me, or thought of me today as opposed to yesterday or the day before it not the issue for me.  If you felt that I was a kind and caring person, then you would have known that my sharing my feelings with you was not done in a malicious or uncaring way.   My reaching out through email was not meant as an assault, but as a desire to share some personal feelings with you.

You were very clear and explicit about your feelings and I accept that.  It doesn’t change my relationship to you on the blog – I am always open and as honest as I know how to be. That doesn’t change.

But I was on the receiving end of some very large anger, some of which, I believe had nothing to do with me.  Still, it has an effect.  

I appreciate your post to me, but I am not sure what it is you are asking of me or what it is that you want.  We both said what we had to say.  I apologized for intruding into your space and if the way I said what I said sounded to you less loving than it was meant to be.   We all can define our relationships in any way that we want and in any way that works best.  You were very clear about your boundaries and I am OK with this.  I felt like by crossing them, which I did quite innocently, I walked into a mine field.   You did not greet me with understanding or kindness.  I don’t want to do that again.   

Yesterday I was having dinner with my friend Andrea at the Forest Hills Tennis Club, on the patio of the restaurant.  We were the only ones there because I wanted to sit close to the summer thunderstorm.  Andrea has known me long enough to tolerate my strange requests.  Every time there was a roar or blast of thunder she would jump and I would make that kind of gesture children or silly adults make when they act like demons or ghosts, raising there arms and shaking their head s back and forth: wooooooooo!  So much for the pretentious patrons at the Forest Hills Tennis Club who watched this strange man from inside their stuffy, air conditioned dining room. 

Anyway, sitting almost in the midst of this exquisite storm of wind, rain, lightning and thunder, while eating and drinking wine I experienced a presence so deep and round.  Once again, I felt that familiar intimacy with nature, one with the natural flow and rhythm of relationship.  And later, I thought of how the shifts in the weather reminded me of empathy and rupture in relationship.  When we are in the midst of relationship, the finer features of empathy can be observed: the timing and patience of our touch and gestures of understanding, recognition and response.  And how quickly we can lose the empathic when our timing is off; or, in self-absorption, when we lose the ability to sit, wait and listen to the other, we might cause, like thunder, the epenthetic rupture of relationship.  The heat from the lightning within surges and we react.  The smooth stillness of interiority erupts.  The relationship is pounded in a roar and fulmination of words, rattling the senses and derailing the relational bond. 

In nature, things seem naturally, if not smoothly, to fall into place.  It’s the basic law of return, the mathematics of chaos iterating order over time.  This is why we generally feel so safe in nature, because it is ordered; and why we feel so unsafe in relationship, because it is so unpredictable.  A defining feature of trauma, for example, is unpredictability.  But, if we look closely, we can find in nature the teachings for relationship.  It has something to do with timing and patience, and it begins with self, the stillness of mind mindfully peering, absorbing, translating  like a Whitman poem:

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,  

Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,  

Out of the Ninth-month midnight,  

Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander’d alone, bare-headed, barefoot,  

Down from the shower’d halo,           

Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they were alive,  

Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,  

From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,  

From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,  

From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears,    

From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist,  

From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,  

From the myriad thence-arous’d words,  

From the word stronger and more delicious than any,  

From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting,    

As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,  

Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly,  

A man—yet by these tears a little boy again,  

Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,  

I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,    

Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them,  

A reminiscence sing.  

            ----------------------------------------

This is mind reading nature and nature teaching mind the rhythm of love, the dance of relatedness seeking order in the chaos of memory, the veil of fear.

Whenever there is a strong natural force that borders on danger, there is an intense thrill, whether it's lightning, thunder or blizzards. I remember the summer of 1991 on The Vineyard, around August 20, when Hurricane Bob ripped up the coast.  I was in Oaks Bluff at the water's edge, holding onto a rail.  It was crazy but intensely exhilarating. I was reading a lot of Ezra Pound at the time and immersed in a deep romantic mind, entering into my last phase of analysis after 10 years and just beginning to more formally enter into my spiritual stage.  Up until that time, nature mysticism was the mode I embodied to find meaning in reality, which was safe because my analyst was not at all spiritual.  Soon we would be going head to head resulting in one of the most painful losses in my life, my teacher/mentor.  But, that month on the Vineyard and that storm: 

Bore sheep aboard her, and our bodies also

Heavy with weeping, and winds from sternward

Bore us onward with bellying canvas,

Crice's this craft, the trim-coifed goddess.

Then sat we amidships, wind jamming the tiller,

Thus with stretched sail, we went over sea till day's end.

Sun to his slumber, shadows o'er all the ocean,

Came we then to the bounds of deepest water,

To the Kimmerian lands, and peopled cities

Covered with close-webbed mist, unpierced ever

With glitter of sun-rays

Nor with stars stretched, nor looking back from heaven

Swartest night stretched over wreteched men there.

The ocean flowing backward, came we then to the place

Aforesaid by Circe.

Here did they rites, Perimedes and Eurylochus,

And drawing sword from my hip

I dug the ell-square pitkin;

Poured we libations unto each the dead,

First mead and then sweet wine, water mixed with white flour

Then prayed I many a prayer to the sickly death's-heads;

As set in Ithaca, sterile bulls of the best

For sacrifice, heaping the pyre with goods,

A sheep to Tiresias only, black and a bell-sheep.

Dark blood flowed in the fosse,

Souls out of Erebus, cadaverous dead, of brides

Of youths and of the old who had borne much;

Souls stained with recent tears, girls tender,

Men many, mauled with bronze lance heads,

Battle spoil, bearing yet dreory arms,

These many crowded about me; with shouting,

Pallor upon me, cried to my men for more beasts;

Slaughtered the herds, sheep slain of bronze;

Poured ointment, cried to the gods,

To Pluto the strong, and praised Proserpine;

Unsheathed the narrow sword,

I sat to keep off the impetuous impotent dead,

Till I should hear Tiresias.

But first Elpenor came, our friend Elpenor,

Unburied, cast on the wide earth,

Limbs that we left in the house of Circe,

Unwept, unwrapped in the sepulchre, since toils urged other.

Pitiful spirit. And I cried in hurried speech:

"Elpenor, how art thou come to this dark coast?

"Cam'st thou afoot, outstripping seamen?"

And he in heavy speech:

"Ill fate and abundant wine. I slept in Crice's ingle.

"Going down the long ladder unguarded,

"I fell against the buttress,

"Shattered the nape-nerve, the soul sought Avernus.

"But thou, O King, I bid remember me, unwept, unburied,

"Heap up mine arms, be tomb by sea-bord, and inscribed:

"A man of no fortune, and with a name to come.

"And set my oar up, that I swung mid fellows."

And Anticlea came, whom I beat off, and then Tiresias Theban,

Holding his golden wand, knew me, and spoke first:

"A second time? why? man of ill star,

"Facing the sunless dead and this joyless region?

"Stand from the fosse, leave me my bloody bever

"For soothsay."

And I stepped back,

And he strong with the blood, said then: "Odysseus

"Shalt return through spiteful Neptune, over dark seas,

"Lose all companions." Then Anticlea came.

Lie quiet Divus. I mean, that is Andreas Divus,

In officina Wecheli, 1538, out of Homer.

And he sailed, by Sirens and thence outwards and away

And unto Crice.

Venerandam,

In the Cretan's phrase, with the golden crown, Aphrodite,

Cypri munimenta sortita est, mirthful, oricalchi, with golden

Girdle and breat bands, thou with dark eyelids

Bearing the golden bough of Argicidia. So that:

                                                 -- Pound, Canto I

Little Sleep's-Head Sprouting Hair in the Moonlight

1

You scream, waking from a nightmare.

When I sleepwalk
into your room, and pick you up,
and hold you up in the moonlight, you cling to me
hard,
as if clinging could save us. I think
you think
I will never die, I think I exude
to you the permanence of smoke or stars,
even as
my broken arms heal themselves around you.

2

I have heard you tell
the sun, don't go down, I have stood by
as you told the flower, don't grow old,
don't die. Little Maud,

I would blow the flame out of your silver cup,
I would suck the rot from your fingernail,
I would brush your sprouting hair of the dying light,
I would scrape the rust off your ivory bones,
I would help death escape through the little ribs of your body,
I would alchemize the ashes of your cradle back into wood,
I would let nothing of you go, ever,

until washerwomen
feel the clothes fall asleep in their hands,
and hens scratch their spell across hatchet blades,
and rats walk away from the cultures of the plague,
and iron twists weapons toward the true north,
and grease refuses to slide in the machinery of progress,
and men feel as free on earth as fleas on the bodies of men,
and lovers no longer whisper to the presence beside them in the
dark, O corpse-to-be ...

And yet perhaps this is the reason you cry,
this the nightmare you wake screaming from:
being forever
in the pre-trembling of a house that falls.

3

In a restaurant once, everyone
quietly eating, you clambered up
on my lap: to all
the mouthfuls rising toward
all the mouths, at the top of your voice
you cried
your one word, caca! caca! caca!
and each spoonful
stopped, a moment, in midair, in its withering
steam.

Yes,
you cling because
I, like you, only sooner
than you, will go down
the path of vanished alphabets,
the roadlessness
to the other side of the darkness,

your arms
like the shoes left behind,
like the adjectives in the halting speech
of old men,
which once could call up the lost nouns.

4

And you yourself,
some impossible Tuesday
in the year Two Thousand and Nine, will walk out
among the black stones
of the field, in the rain,

and the stones saying
over their one word, ci-gît, ci-gît, ci-gît,

and the raindrops
hitting you on the fontanel
over and over, and you standing there
unable to let them in.

5

If one day it happens
you find yourself with someone you love
in a café at one end
of the Pont Mirabeau, at the zinc bar
where white wine stands in upward opening glasses,

and if you commit then, as we did, the error
of thinking,
one day all this will only be memory,

learn,
as you stand
at this end of the bridge which arcs,
from love, you think, into enduring love,
learn to reach deeper
into the sorrows
to come – to touch
the almost imaginary bones
under the face, to hear under the laughter
the wind crying across the black stones. Kiss
the mouth
which tells you, here,
here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones.

The still undanced cadence of vanishing.

6

In the light the moon
sends back, I can see in your eyes

the hand that waved once
in my father's eyes, a tiny kite
wobbling far up in the twilight of his last look:

and the angel
of all mortal things lets go the string.

7

Back you go, into your crib.

The last blackbird lights up his gold wings: farewell.
Your eyes close inside your head,
in sleep. Already
in your dreams the hours begin to sing.

Little sleep's-head sprouting hair in the moonlight,
when I come back
we will go out together,
we will walk out together among
the ten thousand things,
each scratched too late with such knowledge, the wages
of dying is love.

from The Book of Nightmares by Galway Kinnell

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Take the time to research online, and you can be sure to find the best options.If you are very busy and have no time to do this things .please allow me to introduce these sites to you.Because it is very useful for me .and i think it will be same to you.The first of all is the dress store --this is a wedding dress store,but also have a range of special occasion dresses,you will see hundreds of wedding dress that you can choose.and all of the wedding dress are very beautiful.The second one named Gsdresses and mldress,Both of them are wedding dresses stores,and the quality all very good.Any things all have two sides, advantages and disadvantages.maybe you should know the disadvantages,too.
When it comes to dresses for a wedding, there are some limitations with buying online. You can't see the dress, and you need to evaluate from what you see in the images. The good news is that the wedding stores online provide you with the information you need, to be able to select the best, and buy the best.It is a good idea to look at the return policy, and make sure that you can return it, if you are not happy.The next thing to think about is delivery. When ordering, make sure to look at the shipping options, and make sure that they deliver to your location.You can save a lot of money, when you buy a dress online, however, make sure to research, so that you can save money, while still also buying the best!Find the most amazing dresses! Go to beautiful wedding dresses and you may also want to go to best wedding dresses.The source for bliss!

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