In a retreat in Spain, a woman in her 20's sitting in the front row slowly and silently began to cry with long teardrops rolling down her face.
1. TEARS OF A YOGI
I sat opposite her when her tears joined the cheeks
like long, slow raindrops on a summer's night.
looking intently across, I witnessed
her innocence as she gently brought
her knees to her chin
to comfort a forlorn heart
No sound emerged in the intimacy of those tears
she confided only in the quiet evening air
I could feel the pounding of her heart
with the swell of her being filling a single moment.
Her breast heaved with a quiet power
to break the dams of restraints and hardened walls
letting the tears again create downward rivulets.
I said nothing.
I had nothing to offer.
Except presence.
She said later that was more than enough.
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If we took to heart the words of this reflection,
we would abide in a wondrous realm!
2. A DAILY REFLECTION
I vow to remember that today is a new day
Full of new beginnings and fresh moments
Today, I will not cling to events of yesterday nor yesteryear
But stay connected with what today brings.
I will not madly pursue my desires at the expense of others
Nor flee from challenging tasks.
I will remain true to the unfolding process of today
Without losing myself in thoughts of what was or what might be.
I will treat today with awareness and sensitivity
Even in the most ordinary of tasks.
I will apply myself wholeheartedly to the fullness of today
For I know that today holds the resource for authenticity.
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The heart of the Buddha's teaching is very simple. It is liberation through non-clinging. We are often hardly aware of how much we cling to in daily life.
3. CLINGING
The mind clings to what it knows,
and it clings to what it doesn't know
oh, the mind,
feckless and reckless
unobservant of its own features
knowing not itself, nor otherwise,
clinging to its image, made of itself
clinging to its own pretentiousness
clinging to the extensions of a cloud filled day
clinging to trappings of associations
In the intolerance of unfulfilled dreams.
promises that torment the imagination
with a shattered life
splintered like broken glass
into countless reflections of clinging
distorting the sense of wholeness
Clinging to the thoughts,
improvement and prosperity
clinging to worse or better, wrong or right
sweet or bitter, yesterday or tomorrow
presence and absence, opened or unopened
unhelpful or helpful
and the fickle edges of inner movement
It is a strange thing that our potentially noble species
leaves unexamined the harassment of clinging
and the opportunity to live a gracious existence.
~ More Poems by Christopher Titmuss at
http://www.insightmeditation.org/poems.htm