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Whispering Heart, Quieted Mind
by
Shivakti
CONTENTS Whispering Heart, Quieted Mind
For No Reason
To My Beloved
Arid
I Love
Alone
Shower
I Am Always With You
On Being Alone
Think of Me
Borrowed Passion
Travel
The Mask of Yudhishtara
I Am Standing Too
Thank You
I Belong
I’m Jealous
Love Yourself
Listen
Sri H.W.L. Poonja
Words
WHISPERING HEART, QUIETED MIND
What you hold in your hands is a form of spontaneous writing that reflects an opening and a transitioning of the mind and heart. Each page is a birth and a reinforcement of a chosen attitude, of a way of beinganother step in a non-linear journey past loneliness into peace, happiness and spiritual wholeness.
And to the extent that the journey is a universal one you may find your own heart speaking in these pages, toofor you are not different than I.
FOR NO REASON
I was having breakfast at Western Bagelreading The Truth Is.
I started to laugh. It felt so good to laughout loudin public!
I laugh
for no reason at all.
I love
for no reason at all.
I cannot help myself.
It just seems the natural thing to do.
I could probably just as easily cry
for no reason at all.
There is nothing I want.
I already Am
all that I want.
How exhilarating to be happy
for no reason at all.
So this is freedom!
TO MY BELOVED
The only exercise my teacher gives is to speakfirst thing every morning and last thing every nightto the grand Mystery he calls the Beloved. Those few seconds from my heart have now seeped into many moments through out my day until I have come to know that all-that-is and all-that-isn’t, including myself, is my Beloved.
Oh my Beloved, I love you so
my only desire is to rest in you.
Reveal yourself to me
that I may know you
as fully as I can,
So that everywhere,
in all things, at all times
I see only your face,
and behold only your presence.
May each breath I take
be the breath of your love
may each gesture I make
be the gesture of your peace.
Oh my Beloved,
I rest in you.
I love you so much.
AIRID
So familiar am I with the perennial longing for something to fill me up, it comes as a bit of a shock to discover what the longing covered upand what is left when the longing dries up and blows away.
I feel myself wailwhat’s happening?
My heart feels dried out and withered,
devoid even of desire for you, my Beloved.
Sadness rises briefly in me
and turns into nothing-ness
grains of sand blowing off arid dunes.
Tears of loss evaporate.
Even they are gone.
An echo runs down the canyons of time
My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me
and vanishes into the air.
I feel no flow of love in me.
Am I a well run dry?
Yet this is neither agony nor ecstasy.
This is simply empty
of everything I claimed as good.
I stand alone in a desert
without my cloak of goodness
surprised
that still I Am.
I LOVE
The longer I live, the more I experience lifethe more I know love is the only thing that has any lasting importance.
I can name the ones I love
family, friends, teachers,
and just plain people,
whether clean faced or masked.
I can name the things I love
a favorite piece of music,
towering mountains and azure sky,
the smell of orange blossoms
filling the valley.
I can name the activities I love
riding my horse in the morning mist,
driving through open country,
talking with a friend over a cup of coffee.
I can even name the intangibles I love
altruistic virtues like courage
and compassion,
the enigma I call “myself,”
and the mysterious Source
from which all arises
in infinite complexity.
Who or what do I love?
All seem to be objects
things perceived outside of me
upon which my love can land.
Even loving myself
seems paradoxically objectified
a strange duality!
And then I stop
and in the stillness know
It’s not the who or the what
that matters at all,
but only the Love Itself.
Underneath it all,
beyond any reason or understanding,
when my heart is set free,
I … simply … love!
And that love sometimes falls on things,
and sometimes just floats free
wrapping round nothing in particular
and hugging everything
in seamless unity.
I love
It is my happiness.
It is my fullness.
It is my peace.
It is me.
I loveperiod!
That is all there is.
ALONE
For me the greatest pain has been the feeling of being so alone. As I listen to other people, I hear that we all struggle with this misery.
When I was five my dad planned
his fatal accident.
I’ve always believed that was when
aloneness became my life.
But the truth is that even before the act
that turned my world upside down
I felt alone.
So I can’t blame my dad.
Life’s events just refined the feeling
honing it to a razor edge,
polishing it to diamond brilliance,
amplifying my awareness of it
in endless variations
and endless agoniesuntil
I plunged into the aloneness,
and aloneness became my friend
Giving me time and space to find
the subtle stillness of myself-as-awareness.
Giving me silence to hear
the theme song of my own heart.
giving me emptiness to discover
an intangible fullness within my own soul.
Giving me … myself.
What a grand gift, indeed!
SHOWER
Buddha has said that we need to recognize that life is simply going to have its sorrows and sadness. Every so often I’ll wallow in mine for awhile. It’s like taking a shower.
It is so easy to get lost
in the steamy shower of sadness.
Its warmth and familiarity
are so comforting,
confirming the reality
of what I believe is my life.
Sometimes I stay in the shower,
lounging in the luxury
of its enervating heat,
testing how long it will take to
empty the hot water tank.
But more often now,
in only a few minutes
I know I haven’t got time for this
and reaching for the faucet
I let a cool, crisp,
clean stream energize me
awakening me
to a bright, fresh Reality.
Oh what sweet seduction
lies in the swirling mists
of a hot shower.
Thank you, my Beloved
for the cold water tap!
I AM ALWAYS WITH YOU
A friend shared with me how she was moved by Yudhishtara’s words last nightwords that have touched me, too.
Over the ages
many wise beings have said,
I am with you always.
Centuries ago Christ spoke it.
Decades ago Ramana said it.
Today Yudhishtara says it.
I am always with you!
How can that be true?
I do not see Christ standing next to me.
I cannot gaze into Ramana’s eyes.
Yudhaistara’s arms are not hugging me now.
When I find myself looking
for some aspect of form to be there,
I am left empty and disappointed.
But then I hear the words differently.
I hear:
I AM
is
always
with me
and I am home.
ON BEING ALONE
Is it personal desire or social conditioning that pulls us to find someone to do things with? I thought I ought to call a friend to have lunch with me today. But I didn’t do it. I realized I am happy with othersand I am also happy by myself. There is a surprising evenness to it.
I am content alone
it gives me treasured time
with my Beloved.
Being alone has kept me
from becoming jaded
by constant company.
When another being joins me
I savor the moments,
forgetful of time’s passage.
It becomes quite a feat
to teach my greedy fingers
to let go of such beautiful times,
but a greater greed
pries my fingers loose
and I return
to the fullness
that lives with me
alone.
THINK OF ME
I have learned so much from the quiet voice of my teacher.
With quiet voice my teacher said:
You may think of me
as stupid … or wise,
as strong … or as weak.
You may think of me
any way you need,
and
I love you.
His words have echoed through my soul
While slowly an understanding is born.
It is time to release
my small ego-images
that for a lifetime I have
worked to protect
and project.
I begin to say
with as much sincerity as I can:
You may look upon me
any way you need.
It is my gift to you.
It is my gift to me.
It is freedom.
BORROWED PASSION
Occasionally someone will try to follow me in my passion but the following rarely works.
My passion is ultimately
Soul-ly mine.
I am the only one
who can feel it the way I do.
My passion
will mean nothing to you.
It saddens me to see you
try to inhale my passion
as if to take a hit from it.
It is a futile gesture
and sad
for your own passion waits
lonely and unnoticed
in your own heart.
My friend, you cannot
make my passion yours
as flattering as the imitation may be,
or as bonding as it may feel.
Find your own unique passion.
Then come back and tell me of it.
We will laugh and celebrate
and have a glass of wine together.
TRAVEL
A friend of mine leads spiritual pilgrimages to India. I used to feel I was missing something by not goingbut I love what I have found at home.
Oh, my Beloved,
thank you for
not making me
travel so far
to find you.
Thank you for
letting me rest in you
right where I am.
You know how I hate packing!
THE MASK OF YUDHISHTARA
My teacher has often said, “I am always with you.” These words have meant many different things to me as my need and understanding required.
Although I feel that I hold
Yudhishtara in my heart,
who I am really holding is myself.
At one point the aloneness of that
would have suffocated me
and so I would not look at it.
When Yudhishtara has said
‘I am always with you’
it has been a great comfort to me.
Yet it is not Yudhishtara
who is with me.
It is ‘I am’ who is with me.
And if the stark aloneness of that
is too much for me to bear,
then for awhile ‘I am’
will graciously wear
the mask of Yudhishtara
to comfort my mind and heart
until the mask can be
gently removed,
and I can be full
with ‘I am’
alone.
I AM STANDING TOO
Eventually the relationship between teacher and student must shift.
You are with me so.
And how I love you
is beyond what I can say.
But there is a difference
in the way you are
standing with me now.
There is an equality
I was not able to notice before
as you are with me now
so deeply in my mind,
my heart, and soul.
The difference is
that now
I am standing too.
THANK YOU
It is said that if the only prayer you can utter is thank you, it is enough. Thank you is so often in my heart.
Oh my Beloved,
I cannot comprehend you.
I cannot fathom all the ways you are.
I open my eyes
and you are smiling in the sun,
laughing in the rain,
filling my mind and my heart
with overflowing gratitude and joy.
Just to be alive,
to see … to hear … to feel,
to move … to care … to love!
Thank you
for giving me life.
What blessings
you have put in my life.
Even the bumps and bruises
in the end
have been suffused with light.
Thank you, my Beloved.
Thank you.
I BELONG
One of the reasons I first came to satsang was because I felt that something was missing, that I didn’t quite fit in anywhere in life.
I don’t have to join a church,
chant, or swing incense before an altar.
I don’t have to go on a vision quest,
or become United Way’s volunteer of the year.
I don’t have to meditate or donate
or serve on a political committee.
I don’t have to preach, teach, help, or save.
I don’t even have to be successful at anything
in order to belong in the Mystery.
I belong because I exist.
Why did it take so, so long
for me to see and embrace this?
I belongperiod!
I don’t have to earn it.
I don’t have to wait for it to happen.
I belongright here, right now, just as I am.
And when the way I am “now” changes,
as it inevitably will, I will still belong.
I belong.
I have always belonged.
I always will belongeven past death.
I’M JEALOUS
Some of Rumi’s magnificent verse was read at satsang stirring memories of my own favorite poems. I cannot help but wish I had such talent as Rumi, and my beloved Hafiz.
Rumi
Hafiz
I’m jealous of your words!
How exquisitely you play
your songs of the Beloved.
You take my breath away.
How I wish I could
ply a phrase your way.
But my words are oh, so simple,
with rhythm just as plain
they’re as common as everyday.
It’s just ordinary talk
spaced across the page.
Rumi
Hafiz
I’m jealous of your words!
But not of what’s in your hearts
for That, too, is in mine.
Namaste.
LOVE YOURSELF
Oscar Wilde saidto love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance. The guru within raised its head and spoke so gently to me.
Beloved one, you have been
so trained to feel that it is wrong
arrogant, egotistical and obnoxious
to love yourself.
You have been so conditioned
to not trust what you are.
And you have so often walked on by
the awesome truth of your being without seeing.
You have walked on by, in agony,
looking for something “out there,”
looking for some remedy for the loneliness,
looking for some peak experience to satisfy you.
Listen to me now
Only when you come to love yourself
will you begin to taste what you are.
Only then will your respect
for yourself be genuine
and will you know peace.
When you truly love yourself,
you will begin to trust yourself.
Then you won’t be so afraid
of the sadness, and the ache
the stretching that comes with life.
And so you will be able to experience life
with a sense of wonder and excitement,
and with deep, deep gratitude.
When you love yourself
you won’t be so afraid of others hurting you,
for though you will feel pain
you will not be destitute.
And so you won’t be puffing up to impress
or suiting up to defend
and there will be an authenticity to your days.
And you will know satisfaction.
When you love yourself
you will feel a deep sense of security;
and only when you feel secure
will you be able to love others
without need, or dependency,
or strings of any kind.
When you love yourself
you will surprise yourself
with a new tolerance, a quiet patience,
and even a feeling of general good will
towards those you believed were your enemies.
So love yourself fully and thoroughly.
Love yourself through embryonic narcissism.
Love yourself
into your own fullness and maturity.
And you will have loved yourself into knowing.
Love yourselfand you will love
a magnificent mystery.
Love yourselfand you will find
that your love will spill over
and touch everything with grace.
Love yourselfand you will be
Love Itself.
LISTEN
Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my explanations, validations, and excuses, I forget how to listen to the wisdom that is coming to me.
Dear one,
unstop your ears.
Strike “but”
from your vocabulary!
Become willing to hear.
Put down your defense.
Let your position go unjustified
for just a little while.
Soften your stance.
Grow silent in anticipation.
Feel yourself expand.
Listen!
The Beloved
is talking to you.
SRI H.W.L. POONJA
I am reading Truth Istaking it with me for my afternoon coffee break. I am amazed at how my understanding has grownand at how much my life has been freed by this man I never knew.
How can I love this man so much?
I have never met him,
never come face to face with him.
I have only read his words
yet they are so alive to me.
How can I love this man so much
that just seeing his picture
makes me feel his presence?
Tears of joy and gratitude
run down my face.
I want to hug him
but I can only kiss a photograph
as if it were the living essence.
How can I love this man so much
as if he were my friend and neighbor,
meeting me for an afternoon cup of coffee
in downtown Studio City?
He lived in India
and left his form years ago.
I say thank you to a picture,
a two dimensional representation,
yet how come the eyes looking back at me
are so alive?
I love you Papa-ji.
I never went to your satsangs
yet you speak to me
sometimes through Yudhishtara,
sometimes through The Truth Is,
sometimes through your photograph
sometimes through my imagination.
Thank you for taking human form
and telling the truth.
so that I too can roar.
WORDS
When I hear someone say, “it’s just words; it’s only a thought and not so important,” something inside of me shakes its head and says“but that is not the whole story…”
I have come to appreciate words
as well as the thoughts they represent.
I do not believe they are unimportant.
They are not a no-thing
for they carry a great potential.
I choose words more carefully now,
not because I feel restricted
but because I feel responsible.
I use them to shape within myself
the person that I am
and the way I want to be.
I choose words to create
an atmosphere of tolerance and respect.
I choose them to nurture and encourage.
I choose words to love and give thanks.
Because my words affect me
because my words may touch you,
I select them as wisely as I can.
I speak now
much differently
than I did only a few years ago
it’s a benefit of satsang!
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