Tag Archives: india

what happens when I have a writer’s block in India

4 Mar

drawings of gurus from my time in India

These are some drawing I did in India and just after. For some reason I lost the ability to self reflect while there, and so turned my attention to that which was more immediate to my senses… drawing.

I’ve never drawn before, so felt the only way I could bring a face through was to throw lots of bright colours on to the light and lots of heavy dark colours on to the shadows.

The whole process was very immediate and kept me wholey present; unlike my writing which is reflective and often comes with a ‘story’.

These drawings are now sitting in the “Yurt” construct in our dinning room (at the Sanctuary). I meditate there and also grow basil. A very light spot in the house. Yum.


culture shock in India (18 Feb 2008)

28 Feb

I could just never find an authentic expression
For devotion in a temple or at the foot
Of a mountain or guru

There’s too much adolescent child in me
Perhaps, or I’m being asked to adopt
Something to foreign in concept

Is it that devotion comes naturally to children
We see our master, our parent, as divine All Knowing
A good guru lets his children become adolescents

Seeing perhaps limits or restrictions or ceilings
And needing to venture further
And then perhaps come home or maybe not

Only, as a child, I didn’t see the Divine
       outside of my self

liver sounds (31 Jan 2008)

28 Feb

I have come from
the pit of an aboriginal
fire dance, in spirit

it is a healing
where I make the sound
of my liver

it comes in an out pouring
of breath
from a belly that’s never

exhaled. First it is tribal
pulsing muscles banging the drum
throat vibrating to its own echo

it’s magical and unexplored
I am prompted again
find the sound of your liver

a raspy wheezy hiss and hag
escape, I have jumped into the fire
burning the witch

It’s not a willing exit either
whatever it is
that’s channelling through

my throat irritates the sound
bitters the sound
angers the sound

this body is finding expression
and release as the balance
for healing and consciousness

what a joke (25 Jan 2008)

28 Feb

fuckin joke, grumpy as hell
how did I manage to constellate
such a boring hangover
  of a personality

Jesus! What a gip
I feel the stickiness in
Hardening into evidence

(proving my mind right)
  I barely feel
  I barely think
  I barely do

  I barely be
I’m subject to less than life
I don’t fit wholesomely anywhere
Gliding in leaving no impression

Why am I even here?
What can I possibly give!
I am no better than a satsang
Of grasping, dispearing seekers

I’m no better than the dull
Whitted questions from self
  Reinforced egoing
I’m the boring side of subtle

The unreceptive side of the moon
The dying light of has-been here
Is this me for this life?
Can I accept such a dreary bland path?

Projecting only humble love
To some sham more sham than me
The mountain, the mountain
What a crock. I don’t feel

A thing towards the mountain
I am inconsequential to this
I climb it
It thinks nothing of it

Oh, Ok, I’m not the doer
It comes to me and then
Ignores me

palm reader (31 Dec 2007)

28 Feb

how does your guidance play out
asks my palm reader
all I can say is, I follow

my excitement, and a
confirmation will come along
– there isn’t really a sense

of right or wrong decisions;
  only the perfect choice
it is always the most appropriate

my palm reader says
I have a destiny; for you
he says, surrender to your

guidance – it is spontaneous
which is under-developed

  in the service of others
your gift will extend as you
extend your self to others

speaking truth (31 Dec 2007)

28 Feb

this pain is the pain of Separation
the question that expands all
that asks us to enquire

  who is watching you
   feel all this
so quickly empties my mind

my mind does not ask
I put it to my heart
and it reaches out

  and finds nothing

it returns home from
  an empty land
and finds no peace

as I speak it, I feel only
agitation at how much
  is untouched by words

nothing I say comes close
  to Truth

my vivid self (30 Dec 2007)

28 Feb

India, from this distance
distorts noise
  cracking chants

  sacred static
I’m feeling unsettled
I want to turn it all off

everything I say
the real

even my story
is disorientating
(does writing make me more vivid?)

I feel, and when I feel
the existence of my self
is validated

who is it that is observing me?

I feel, therefore I am

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