New Years Day, 2016 – according to the calendar. Three micro-poems which might or might not be haiku. I offer them as they landed. The first one is a selfie and makes me chuckle. The last – well, if you’ve experienced an Australian morning you’ll know about the predawn antics of the rowdy kookaburras… In between, a quiet reflection on – how it is.
the caged bird long flown
an old woman waters flowers
time forgets to tick
abandoned at last
by meaning and purpose
I sit with my tea
3am – seems they know
it’s the dawn of a New Year
Image: Gerrit Dou, Old Woman with a Jug at Window, c 1660 – 1665
Oil on Panel, 28.3 x 22.8
Kunsthistoriches Museum, Vienna
Like many baby-boomers, for decades I labored
to find my authentic self
to be true to my inner self
to listen to my higher self
to express my creative self
to obey my intuitive self
to heal my wounded self
to look after my precious self
to live my personal-power self
to find the purpose of my life
and to have a life of my own
Whatever the non-event was that ‘happened’ here, it sent these 10 files and their contents to the trashcan and emptied it. And the amazing thing is that every single issue dissolved; it now seems absurd that any of it mattered. The striving was the only thing that kept authenticity and creativity at remove. The believing I was a person with a purpose smothered Life’s agenda – which was beyond the scope of my imagination.
All these selves! All lining up with their demands. All promising fulfillment. Wouldn’t it make sense to first find out whether any of them are real? What one discovers changes everything – without changing any-thing!
what if the little verb ‘to be’
woke up one fine morning
and realized that it was a homeless orphan?
what if its job description had been
modified overnight without consultation?
what if it was now relieved from its
personal applications, redundant,
only useful as a conventional
figure of speech?
no one to be asleep
no one to be wakened
no world to be an illusion
no void to be empty
no emptiness to be filled
no form to be found
no happiness to be chased
no suffering to be escaped
no purpose to be discovered
no meaning to be understood
what a shock that would be for a very busy ‘be’
after a lifetime of endlessly and earnestly
running around doing its determined duties
and always avoiding that inevitable destiny
of coming to a halt and remembering
how to simply be
recovery would take a while
but it too would come to pass as effortlessly
as bloom those flowers
that neither spin nor sew
oh the delight of a ‘be’ set free!
vast leaping liberation:
no personal purpose!
pursuit of purpose is the default activity of the entity invented to claim doership of the deeds done by
it drops away when the Reality beyond self and no-self, doer and deed, is revealed
Life, pulsating, throbbing,
exploring and experimenting,
has its own unknowable agenda
Its will is being done, whether one’s ‘onto It’ or not