Tag Archives: Gratitude

Some Deep Spiritual Common Sense that Pervades the Universe

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My drawing of the Virgin Mary

Why Is Poetry So Respectable an Itch?

Why is poetry so respectable an itch
And not so, beer
Or worse, whiskey which,
Too, provides rye verse, a peer

Perverse for its reputation only?
For from the spell of lonely
I cast or dwell in
With my poem I fell in

More with booze than muse:
I did but choose
To while in idle dream
My time away from seem.

The mood, once written, is broken
Just as Ginboy’s smitten token
Leaves ache and aching pain
When morning comes breaking again.

But it’s some consolation
From angels or some flower:
Last night’s lines were exhalation
Still redolent of power.

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Invocation:

“Towards the one, the perfection of love, harmony and beauty, the only being, united with all the illuminated souls who form the embodiment of the master, the spirit of guidance.”

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Prescribed Daily Mantra:

“My thoughtful self: Reproach no one. Bear malice towards no one. Hold a grudge against no one. Be wise, tolerant, considerate, polite, and kind to all.”

Gentle Readers,

I want to speak briefly of my poetry and how (and the fact that) I use it to clarify issues important to me, as a Sufi.

Of course as a Sufi (particularly my personal sort, these days*) I am quite free to decide things on my own, using my imagination and my own conception of religion a la Mohammed. That is, for instance, instead of following a catechism or other schism in the religious community, cleaving to one over another, I am free to pick and choose, inventing my own religion**

But I don’t want to veer off the main message of this post, which is how does my poetry fit in with my “Sufism?”

First thing that must be said (or admitted) is that my poetry is my Sunday School. It keeps me in line. You see, the thing with the poem is two-fold; one I am full of gratitude not just for saving me from the ignominy of writer’s block (there is always a new theme or better said, a descant on a familiar one (Was it Solomon or Goethe; I forget which, that said, “There is nothing new under the sun.”)

The second thing is it is tailormade for me who perhaps has only one principal virtue (I am like Oscasr Wilde and temptation***) which is by God there is one “shit I will not eat.” **** Which is I will not be a hypocrite. If an idea comes to me in a poem suchwise I proclaim it as if I were a prophet (a proper thing according to Emerson; See his Self Reliance essay) well then I am honor bound to be bound by the wisdom of it. It’s interesting how easy one finds it to obey what is prompted by a grateful heart.

And it’s not just gratitude for no writer’s block; no, it is the appreciation of the honor of having been invited by something divine whispering what to write in my ear. It makes one humble to the point of tears. And you can imagine then how less difficult it is to reorient oneself towards a new conception of the light. (Like any well behaved plant would do)

It is also a meditation, and a true meditation on anything is a relaxing thing.

That’s what I liked many years back when I first hit Guatemala and started studying art. Just the intense focus on the drawing came out as a meditation. And again I was grateful. Of course I hadn’t thought I could do art worth a damn and it turned out if you just focus right, the spirit comes through like my principal chez d’ouevre, my drawing of the Virgin Mary***** (funny I just typed her as the virgin memory! Must be a lesson there somewhere). See above drawing for that. Sabes que it made me a professional artist? I sold it for $150 dollars! True it was to my best friend’s wife but Kebi never buys what she doesn’t want.

Anyway I was astonished how well it came out. Even Ralph (the best friend) and his usually Eric-deprecating daughter averred it showed “an amazing sensitivity.”

And what’s a corollary to this latter? (and ladder!) It’s this: all God (or angels, or some deep spiritual common sense that pervades the universe) comes to your aid when you are on the right road.

And so my main point is, I use my poetry largely as a meditation and a vehicle to clarify issues of importance to me. Issues such as what are the most useful metaphors for God?  Or in my case since God is inherently unknowable by the finite mind (yo!), it makes more sense to me to think of “God” in terms of His or Her ambassador. As in Kindness is God’s ambassador. As in tolerance and humility is God’s ambassador. As in whatever whichever quality that moves the heart is God’s ambassador.

But my mainest point here is I had been hearing all my Sufi life about the importance of meditation and breathing exercises.  But I struggled with both of these. Now the above-mentioned is how I substituted a to me miraculous meditation. But alas, I have never gotten the hang of breath exercises, which Inayat Khan (see above stuff just below my drawing) places an embarrassing emphasis on. See the ****** below and I will tell you an example of my moron status when it comes to breathing exercises. But I at least have “solved” the meditation problem. A shame about the breathing exercises. (probably why I can’t levitate) But one out of two ain’t bad. Looks pretty good; in fact in baseball . . . But I digress, which is a sign it’s time to sign off for this time.

God be with you,

Eric Halliwell

*As opposed to days of old, when I was an official (read “mureed” accepted by a bonified murshid, or guru in lay terms, and of course previous to my ignominious boot from the order (yes thereby hangs an interesting tale you can read about here: https://rumi-nations.com/2021/01/28/what-they-do-to-33-year-old-carpenters-3/)

**referring to: “Every man has his own religion.”

–Mohammed (as cited by Hazrat Inayat Khan)

***  “I can resist anything, except temptation.”

          –Oscar Wilde

****The reference is to E. E. Cummings’ poem panegyric to the pacifist (“I sing of Olaf”)

***** Interestingly there is a subsect of Sufis in Turkey’s Anatolian Plateau that evinces an intense interest in the Virgin Mary.

****** Go fiqir!  We Sufis were taught a trick for deciding an important life issue. It was called “fiqir.” In that, one imagines the breath as a playground swing with inhaling and exhaling at opposite ends of the described arc. We were told to keep that in mind while thinking of the important decision. And if while contemplating the proposed course of action the breath faltered, then that was a sign it was not a desirable thing.  And here’s the humiliating part: I couldn’t even maintain the swinging. My perverse mind would step in and immobilize it and I’d be stuck motionless at the bottom of the arc!

The Gamut from Roses to Humility

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Hazrat Inayat Khan

New Start—448

All My Life I Have Wanted

–To Anna Lovell

All my life I have wanted a species of peace
In which I enjoyed being alone instead

If I saw a wonderful movie something listless restless
Probably tasteless certainly useless couldn’t enjoy it

For the lack of someone to share it with
But now I share it with myself

Who is getting to be
A sweet and interesting guy

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Invocation:

“Towards the one, the perfection of love, harmony and beauty, the only being, united with all the illuminated souls who form the embodiment of the master, the spirit of guidance.”

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Prescribed Daily Mantra:
“My thoughtful self: Reproach no one. Bear malice towards no one. Hold a grudge against no one. Be wise, tolerant, considerate, polite, and kind to all.”

~.~.~

Gentle Readers,
I am at a quandary. I imagine my readers are not all in the same camps. For instance, some are agnostics or even atheists (Though here I must confess to while immersed in tolerance, yet I am perplexed. Agnostic is one thing. You just don’t know. There is evidence on both sides . . .

But an atheist . . .That requires a solid belief (irony alert: a belief in disbelief). But on what evidence? It’s notoriously difficult to prove a negative. Again for instance if a thousand years of evidence points to there is no such being as a blue dog. And yet one single blue dog appearance disproves a thousand years of no blue dog sightings.

Besides which how about this? Is it unreasonable to expect that if there were a God, might He be at least as picky in picking his friends as we are? (Especially if you throw in reincarnation, in which no one is ever permanently left out. But that would digress)

Which would you entertain as a friend, the one predisposed to friendship, or the one who is not? Don’t know about you but I am biased towards those who are biased toward me. Why should God be any different? (Especially if there’s truth to those rumors that man is God though writ small–yet cut from the same cloth)

Anyway God knows the reasons for hiding from some and revealing to others . . .There are countless stories from Bernadette on down . . .

And if, Gentle (not necessarily gentile) Reader, you check out the above section named “About” you will read of my own personal odyssey from atheist to belief. But in my case there was a verified blue dog sighting. And not only a blue dog but a rescue dog, that pulled me out of the mire I had been stuck in (and sinking too).

But since you can read all about that as I say above, I will move right along.

Might I make a suggestion to those readers uncomfortable with the oft misused word, “God”?

It is this: How about you take up a collection of all the things you admire. Go the gamut from roses to humility. Dance perhaps around a beautiful sunset or a returned smile, even find the charm of chekk-turning (because you won’t be alone, as God goes (faster than an ambulance) where relief of that special kind of loneliness may be vouchsafed.

Yes just take an inventory make it a charm bracelet of all you love (which must make the leap to mean “all that your heart loves”)

And then call it God.

In whatever form your imagination may fancy. As per this favorite Inayat Khan story:

(Inayat Khan frequently quotes Mohammed saying “Every man has his own religion.”)

MOSES AND THE BOY

There is a story told of Moses. One day he was passing through a farm, and he saw a peasant boy sitting quietly and talking to himself, saying, ‘O God, I love you so; if I saw you here in these fields I would bring you soft bedding and delicious dishes to eat, I would take care that no wild animals could come near you. You are so dear to me, and I so long to see you; if you only knew how I love you I am sure you would appear to me!’

Moses heard this, and said, ‘Young man, how dare you speak of God in this way? He is the formless God, and no wild beast or bird could injure Him who guards and protects all.’ The young man bent his head sorrowfully and wept. Something was lost to him, and he felt most unhappy. And then a revelation came to Moses as a voice from within which said, ‘Moses, what have you done? You have separated a sincere lover from Me. What does it matter what I am called or how I am spoken to? Am I not in all forms?’

You have the freedom to use your imagination (Inayat Khan says this too) and create your own concept of “God” if only as a collection of all the things you love
And God will coalesce around all those things condense them into a dense cloud, and on down to the central core of your heart, remembering that’s how stars are born.

From the poem above you might suspect that I am grateful. Grateful that as I got older I got wiser and so waxed happier.

And though I can’t be sure due to the mind’s perhaps merciful tendency to forget. Yet I remember at age fourteenish I looked at my reflection in the mirror with loathing. And so there was a lot of room for improvement. And improvement splits atams, releasing energy to propel you to the next step. But it’s most use is you have then a recurring flash of happiness, which indeed feeds epiphanies.
God be with you,
Eric Halliwell

The Rules Are Cut and Dried

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Arden

 

Arden Again

(Published in Ascent Aspirations)

The Rules Are Cut and Dried

–To Arden

These are the rules:
A found penny is lucky heads up
Two found pennies together doesn’t matter
Any nickel or dime or better
Doesn’t matter

The rules are cut and dried
But I conceive a primitive
Experiment in power: For instance
If I turn a tails penny over to heads
For someone else to find

That makes now
Heads in charge
And so my hypothesis
Being that one has the power
To create luck for someone else

You may say
“But you will never know the result
And so it’s a worthless experiment”
To which my reply:
Au contraire mon frère

(Establishing a tone of camaraderie)
I already know
The rules are cut and dried
Happiness is the given
You work backwards from there

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Invocation:

“Towards the one, the perfection of love, harmony and beauty, the only being, united with all the illuminated souls who form the embodiment of the master, the spirit of guidance.”

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Prescribed Daily Mantra:

“My thoughtful self: Reproach no one. Bear malice towards no one. Hold a grudge against no one. Be wise, tolerant, considerate, polite, and kind to all.”

~.~.~

Gentle Readers,

Well here it is again (or was when I started this post) November 7, Arden’s birthday (Arden is the lady who died a bunch of blog posts ago and to whom was dedicated some posts,* most recently:

https://rumi-nations.com/2018/11/18/it-makes-me-cry-remembering-arden/

Earlier arden posts (where since she was a still living and private scorpio, I had called her “Eve”:

https://rumi-nations.com/2013/07/01/the-fates-found-her/

and:
https://rumi-nations.com/2013/07/08/my-heart-was-in-panajachel/

It’s an interesting situation why she has always stuck so much with me for 18 years after we stopped being together.

As I wrote in previous posts, she was an atheist (not that there’s anything wrong with that) and well, in my opinion I was a lot more tolerant of her atheism than she was of my religion.** I even laughed at one of the buttons she had on her refrigerator door, which said, “Jesus is coming! Look busy!”

I surely do, and any self respecting Jesus would also have a sense of humor, and be secure enough in our beliefs not to feel threatened by somebody else thinking differently.

Of course in retrospect I was at fault as well. And I thought I was being so generous and ecumenical when I told her (to her face) that I didn’t believe she was really an atheist because I had never seen a more generous heart and of such is the kingdom of God.

But thereby I was depriving her of the respect that should be given to someone’s estimation of themselves.  I as much as said, what do you know? You are not really an atheist!

It sure is funny how one time one can be so cock sure of something and then later look back and slap your head aghast at having missed something so obvious. Along similar lines there is the Hazrat Inayat Khan story of a lady who often hurt people’s feelings with accusations, justifying that by saying, “I only tell the truth.” I can’t be sure of the exact wording of Hazrat Inayat Khan’s comment on that, but the gist was, it was in violation of a far greater truth, that of the human heart being the shrine of God, and woe to one who would visit hurt upon that.**

I am traveling now to California to visit family and old friends, and I wish to focus on that, so I will cut this post short (and yes, a day late both for a post being overdue, and Arden’s birthday having been ten days ago (November 7).

God be with you,
Eric Halliwell

*Posts which I have written because she has been so pivotal in my life. As well as gratitude for her generous heart, and as you might surmise from what I have written above, a source for much Sufi-ish speculation, about my gratitude to her, which I think is among the top three of my idea of the most  important virtues. Para precisar, along with gratitude, avoiding hypocrisy, and (agreeing with Inayat Khan), patience (for how one’s fate is often determined by an apparent God’s plan for a string of falling dominoes, at least in my case, some of the latest being occasioned by my affair with Arden. Which has led directly to my moving to Guatemala, thus enabling a retirement devoted to my Sufi poetry and ancillary contemplation.

**As an example, once she told me “I don’t ever want to hear about your religion!” To which I relied that to make sure of what she meant, I said, “In other words you want never to hear me speak of that without which I might want to Kill myself? (This in the spirit of this quote from Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina:

“…life was impossible like that, and that he must either
interpret life so that it would not present itself to him
as the evil jest of some devil, or shoot himself.”

***FYI here I am not referring to hell, unless by hell it’s meant unhappiness. An unhappiness which comes perforce from trying to be what one is not. By that I mean deep down we are all manifestations of a loving God, and to act otherwise must set up a civil war in one’s heart. Hardly a state of happiness.