"To my beloved world" lands like the whole poem's center of gravity.
Not "and the world will be beautiful." Beloved. That's an active relationship, not a description.
Buddhism has a similar move in the practice of looking for the looker. You turn attention toward itself and find nothing that holds. What you find instead is exactly this: the world appearing without a filter between you and it.
What strikes me is that the poem doesn't describe this as peaceful. It includes hatred, enmity, blood. The ground that falls away isn't just ego comfort. It's the insulation.
I've been sitting with whether groundlessness feels more like freedom or exposure.
Does writing the poem change the experience of it for you?
Thanks for this thought. I am happy that it inspired you to think more deeply about the self.
Yes, these poems are like meditation to me. They help me express my own doubts and clear my head of feelings which I cannot state otherwise.
Yes, the falling away of a self by the wayside is not peaceful.
The same thing which creates comfort to protect us also harms us when we feel hate.
This clinging creates both monsters. Likes and dislikes. The duality. But reality is not describable completely in terms of a duality, a boundary.
I don't see this awareness in terms of freedom or exposure. They are two sides of the same thing. Affinity.
I see this awareness of groundlessness as truth. A ground is needed to get things done. To talk, for example (by using words).
But any ground for me is the same. They are tools to navigate an uncertain, impermanent world.
But when all the deeds are done and all the wins and losses seen, my rest state would be without an āIā. I return to my groundlessness every night when I sleep. That is nature's way of reminding us the truth.
"To my beloved world" lands like the whole poem's center of gravity.
Not "and the world will be beautiful." Beloved. That's an active relationship, not a description.
Buddhism has a similar move in the practice of looking for the looker. You turn attention toward itself and find nothing that holds. What you find instead is exactly this: the world appearing without a filter between you and it.
What strikes me is that the poem doesn't describe this as peaceful. It includes hatred, enmity, blood. The ground that falls away isn't just ego comfort. It's the insulation.
I've been sitting with whether groundlessness feels more like freedom or exposure.
Does writing the poem change the experience of it for you?
Thanks for this thought. I am happy that it inspired you to think more deeply about the self.
Yes, these poems are like meditation to me. They help me express my own doubts and clear my head of feelings which I cannot state otherwise.
Yes, the falling away of a self by the wayside is not peaceful.
The same thing which creates comfort to protect us also harms us when we feel hate.
This clinging creates both monsters. Likes and dislikes. The duality. But reality is not describable completely in terms of a duality, a boundary.
I don't see this awareness in terms of freedom or exposure. They are two sides of the same thing. Affinity.
I see this awareness of groundlessness as truth. A ground is needed to get things done. To talk, for example (by using words).
But any ground for me is the same. They are tools to navigate an uncertain, impermanent world.
But when all the deeds are done and all the wins and losses seen, my rest state would be without an āIā. I return to my groundlessness every night when I sleep. That is nature's way of reminding us the truth.
šš
Thanks :)
Beautiful!
Thank you so much š