Archive for August, 2011

I watch you
Meddling with your mobile
And there is this longing somehow
Wishing that you would look up at me
And stay present to me instead

Yet in a twinkling of a moment
I remember
And I smile
Realising the fruitless possibility
That if I need to remind you
To stay present to me
In order for you to at least look at me
Then I might as well possess a ‘you’ controller
And have you as my little puppet
So I could move you here and there
Like a pawn on a seeming chessboard game

And of course
If I truly need you
To stay present to me
Because I have something to say
Or to share with you
I am aware of my entitlement to my request
Yet also mindful that your response is entirely your discretion

Don’t you see, my love
If I have to remind you
Even to answer to my request
To stay present to me
Then seriously, my love
Why not just drop the reminders
Or the requests
And do what you are doing right now

For I am trusting you, as always
If staying present to me
Is what you truly wish in this moment
You wouldn’t really need me to make the request
Or to remind you that I am right here in front of you

You’d do it anyway, you see
Without the reminders or the requests
Else it is really only saying something
About you and me in this moment
A ‘fix it’ proposition
To what is not seen behind

For what is the use of the countless reminders or requests
When it moves you away from what you wish to do
I’d just be fooling myself
When you begin to put your mobile down and look at me
Hallucinating how you do indeed wish to be present to me
Or how you are finally present to me
When at the back of the mind
What you really wish is to be doing something else

Watching you doing your thing
And doing my thing watching you
We have met somehow, you see
In commonness
Because that is the least I could do for me
That is to stay present to what is playing up in me
While watching you
How it validates you shunning me away
How it proves I am undeserving of your company
How it confirms I am so unworthy of your time
Ahh… those recurring patterns, re-emerging thoughts
Trying to steal me away from you
And you away from me
Right at this very moment
While you are one with your mobile
And yet interestingly, the struggle to be a believer or not

For since they can be true and untrue anyway
I notice I don’t really bother listening
I have seen the game so many, many times now
Yet pleasingly acknowledging the way it works
And I choose still, not to disrupt what you are doing
As my respect of what is true to you at this moment
But I love how you are too, respecting what is true to me
And that is simply being mesmerised by the sight of you
How your eyes grow smaller to watch the screen
How you scratch your nose with your long slender fingers in the midst of it
The amazed look that seems to show on your face
And all at the time my presence directed to
The inner radio playing in my head of how you should stay present to me.

And I thank God that you are doing what you are doing
So that I could do what I am doing
And that is to watch and appreciate this wondrous orchestra
All these while you are making love with your mobile
For if you had stayed present to me
I would have totally missed this awesome sight
This wonderful scenery of you and your mobile
With the creative yet recycled song that accompanies it.

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Blessed O’ Souls
Whose only company
Is Loneliness

A passing phase
Is all there is
A momentary experience
Long or short

A moment defined
A split second, even a week
Void of its meaning
Just an instant beyond time

The fools camouflage
With company, activities
The wise stays with it
Listening to its’ cry

Yet let not
Loneliness be prolonged
For in an instant of a Holy will
The moment salvaged
Eternity remembered

Not for you, O Blessed Souls
But for charity of the Beloved One
Missing moments as expression
As good as omitting presence of the Sacred Beloved

To dwell in seclusion
Is to dismiss the Gift
Yet is the Gift, a blessing or a curse
Only in Spirit can a choice finally be made

So love Loneliness anyway
Since it is only an error made true
Though it may seem as if its under the nose
Surely you must know
It is what makes you, yet not really you.

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The Guardian Angel has gone back to home town for a holiday. So it is just me and the little one. She has been grumbling how the Guardian Angel wouldn’t let her bathe herself, feed herself. Well, she is still a little one, at least to us.

And yesterday, just me and her, after I assisted the wash of her long, beautiful black hair, she turned to me and said, “please go stand there and watch me shower. I can do it.” Obediently, I did as I was told. I stood for a while and realised that she was going to take some time, so I went to lay on the mattress where I could watch her anyway.

She knew what to do, even better than me I’d say. She turned the knob so that the water would not run as she rubbed body shampoo on her beautiful tiny body (I don’t do that, you see). As she rubbed herself, she laughed and played with bubbles a little, blowing them as they (the bubbles) incessantly form on her body due to the contact of soap, water and texture. I watched her giggle and her laugh was so self fulfilling. As she missed several spots, I did my part in reminding her, “don’t forget the shoulders”, “don’t forget the armpits”, “don’t forget the place behind your knees”, and she noticed that she did not realise that these places actually exist and obediently directed her hands to the exact places where she was told, and then rubbed them with soap. And then she giggled again, as if amused. And then I noticed that it was taking a little too long. No wonder Guardian Angel would rather shower her as it would be much quicker. And I noticed the urge to hurry her, yet I kept quiet and choose to watch her silently instead. The urge kept nudging, “hurry hurry, there is much to do! the garden is full of poo, the clothes did to be wash, and my gosh, I haven’t even written today!”, “come on, I haven’t even showered!”, “we are going to be late for the dinner appointment” and there was a continuous smile as that urge tried to lift me up from the mattress to shorten the journey of the little one’s shower.

And I wondered what it would be like just watching her without interfering her one bit…

…and she surprises me. She plays and giggles again, as if not really ready to wash off the soap from the body. And I watch her again as she amuses herself again and again, laughing and occasionally shouting out to me, “mommi, look!!!” as she points to some parts of the body which she has created some designs out of the foam, and then points at the bubbles which she blows from the foam, inviting me to laugh with her and join her in her joy. It was total kindness, and I laugh and giggle with her.

Soon, she surprises me again. She turns on the knob of the shower again by herself! She adjusts the knob just so the temperature is right, using her hand as a tester before she allows her body to fully enjoy the warmth of the water pouring down from the shower head. And then she rubs the body to assist the soapy foam to conform to the law of gravity. Such intelligence in a little being.

It is done. The body is finally clean. Without leaving the mattress, I watch what she does next. And I am amazed again as she steps out of the shower calmly and pulls her towel from the towel hanger and dries herself. Creatively, she wraps her head and ties the towel around the waist. I am unsure how she does that because I never thought that is possible. Such creativity! And then I smile as I witness how she tries to tie a knot from the edges of the towel so that as she walks, the towel would not fall. She does not even lift her head up once to look at me, not even a sign of uncertainty or seeking assurance that she is doing the right thing, just merely investigating on her own and finding her own way. And then I notice she realises she doesn’t know how to tie a knot with such huge edges yet, so she decides to hold them in one hand.

As she walks towards me, a book from her table catches her eye and then she moves herself there and begins to flip the pages of the book…

I laughed because I knew that was when I had to step in to bring her to the complete process of fully drying up and dressing her up. She was distracted, and I was the guardian, the nurturer now, so I got up from the mattress and walked towards her, inviting her to put her book down for a while to dry herself up before she caught a cold and to dress up. We did have a dinner appointment to keep. She giggled and laughed. I giggled and laughed with her. We played toggle for a while and then she surrendered and knew she had to dress up. And all I did was only to assist her in towel-drying her long beautiful black mane and the parts of the body which still had remnant droplets of water. We giggled and laughed together again while applying the unnecessary body lotion on her body. It was fun.

My job was done. She was dressing up without my assistance. I turned to look at the clock, and oh my goodness… I only had 15 mins left before dinner appointment. So I took my leave and went to fulfil my turn of washing up. Yet, we were not late for dinner and there was no rush. Everything happened splendidly on time.

It was a marvellous journey of letting go some more and witnessing the growing up. And I am glad, how by non-interference, not only she got to explore and have fun, but I got to witness her greatness and independence at such a young, tender age.

Indeed, one of the sweet things in life is derived from stepping back and just merely watching and stepping in only when necessary. Not too much, not too little. It is in letting go, can growing up begin.

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Love nothing about a person and you would have loved everything about the person. ~ GG

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I will have to admit
That there are issues in me
That remains unresolved, unaccepted
I am still learning, you see
In this game called life
Lessons yet to be transcended
Learned and realised

Because I noticed that in me
And possess deep compassion for me
I cannot not project that onto you
And not experience the same for you
For what I am, is what I would see in you
It cannot be any other way
It is just the way it is
It is not really a choice
And I have come to peace with that

So you tell me
That perhaps you have fallen in love with the “wrong” me
And I smile a little
Because I understand where you are coming from
I’ve been there, you see
Expecting the perfect you
That ought to jive with what I thought you are to me
And time and time again I see
How you have your issues to learn from too
That I could never be the one
To free you from any of it
What more to hurry you to what I think is the “perfect” you

Like how I am accepting my non-acceptance of myself
And it is not that I am not doing anything about it
But can you too
Accept me for not accepting myself
In areas that I have not yet transcended my limitations
And love and accept me anyhow
Like how I love and accept you anyway

No, no…
I am not expecting you to
This is merely a request
And it is not for me to impose on you
I just noticed that it is much kinder to accept
The non acceptance of myself
And your non acceptance of myself
It just brings me back closer to myself
To begin that inner process within me

In this trying time I might be in
I am needing your support if that is what you would give me
I am needing your understanding if that is what you could offer me
But even if that is what you are unable to grant me
That is ok too
I am not any different from you, you see
Only perhaps now
I choose peace most of the time
And choose to love me and you anyway.

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From moment to moment, I am dealing with different parts of me. It is never separate. It is either me here—mind only or mind and body; or me here with another seeming separated mind or mind and body, which is apparently not me. Irrelevant which is which, there is no difference for I am still addressing me, only different parts of me. It looks like two minds, two bodies, but there is really just one. Just me.

When the daughter walks in and calls out a “mommi”, and suddenly I am addressing “me” in a mini form. And when a participant or a student calls me over the phone, or meet me over a session or a coffee, they are “me” too, the many “me”s seeking for enlightenment and clarity in their issue—my issue. And I am here too, as “me” relating to “me”s – the unenlightened parts of me – with compassion; not the kind that comes with doing, but the compassion that comes within Self, from Self, to Self, for Self. It is a full consuming unbreakable cycle from the unconditioned, to the conditioned and back once more to the unconditioned. Nothing leaves me. I am whole.

And the husband may throw a threat here and there… in a moment of forgetfulness, I think “oh my gosh, I am threatened” hence my defence comes up and whether a subtle attack in the mind, or an outer attack in form is performed, I have separated me from me and it causes me pain. Very much like chopping off my very own arm from my very own body, it is fleshly painful. And I might think it will be fun or a winning streak for me if I use a sword to slay your arm from your body, but I am only slaying my arm from my body—slaying me, hence hurting me. And if I love myself so much, why would I hurt me? And if “you” are me, why would I wish to hurt you, when you are, only me?

Yet in moments of my silence when you come forth with your questions, it is not that I do not have an answer for you. It is because I remember, what it was like, and I could never deprive you of that when you are asking for the sake of asking and not really asking. Your pain is mine because there is no boundary, no separation and I join you wherever you are. As soon as you become willing and ready to accept the invitation into my world and suddenly waking up to see how my world is also yours, I have arrived again with your arrival and that arrival is magnified a thousand folds beyond counting.

Some participants asked me in a workshop, why I am doing this, spending time with them, sharing and talking to them. They have not seen – those “me”s have not seen and it is ok. I remember what it was like. And I simply, simply told them the truth. They get puzzled and then I laugh. Because I remember, you see… and I am just so simply in love with “me”.

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rambling away
verbal diarrhoea
suddenly, you turn away
a disconnectedness occurs
you have moved away
away with thoughts
away from me

pausing the rambling
where I am
judging you
pointing out to you
how you have moved away
from this moment
a little upset
a little agitated
and thankfully
you speak
how at times you noticed too
I move away

I defend
though subtle it seems
in sarcasm
making you wrong
“it’s your problem”
the thought says
there is a total believer in it, you see

in a moment of remembering
the stilled radar
turning inwards
beginning its ponder
the search for its own truth
balancing within itself
it smiles
at relevation
how you have responded
how the mirror has responded
my own response
the rambling away
verbal diarrhoea
as reflection to
my own disconnectedness
my own moving away
from me
in the moment
and then
the listening starts
and suddenly it is found
there is no possibility
of moving away
of disconnectedness
because it has come back
I have come back
and I am connected
joyful, once again
for the reminder
the sweet delightful
from that wee bit gone haywire
I am, afterall, what I see in you at this moment
and I am thankful for the mirror
for without it
I can’t see
without it
I can’t know
without it
I can’t die in my own delicious death
without it
I can’t be reborn

Ah… I love my mirror

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I am the face you want to see
meeting you everywhere and wherever you are
if in my face
a weakened damsel or a spirited goddess
is what you see
that is what I am
and that is you, too
you can be sure of that
I am just your face

I am the face you want to see
the opposite of you
that you have yet to reconcile
until you have come
in honesty
in full integrity
of yourself
within yourself
reclaiming the disowned
you start to see the change
in my face
for that is what I am
and that is you, too
you can be sure of that
I am just your face

I am the face, you see
I am that face
echoing back
wherever you are
whatever you take me as
I am only bringing you
everywhere  that I am
anywhere that you are
in the dream
or in reality
there is no place I can’t go
no place I won’t go
I am just a face, you see
a face of you
a face of me
me as you
you as me
one with you
one with me
only you
only me

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time with the Beloved
so precious
yet thoughts of the future come
and sets the heart a weary
the future projection
from what is of past pain
happening now
making time with the Beloved
obscured, not within reach
even with the Beloved standing
right here and now
in sight

surfacing emotions of
disappointments, upsetness
historic memories
pains, aches
moving somehow
mentally, emotionally
sometimes even physically
away from the Beloved
as if
the Beloved has gone away
when in fact
it is the Beloved whom has left
left the moment with the Beloved
right here and now
totally blinded
by shades of past and future
travelling in some non-existential boulevard
on the Its own
somewhere far, far away
from the Beloved
in sight

in quietly noticing
not murmuring a word
both past and future
all happening already
the true Beloved
right here and now
a sudden vanish of senseless prediction
the lips curve in naturalness
as if delighted
smiling within the Beloved
and then smiling outwards at the Beloved
The Beloved & Its Beloved
projecting onto the Beloved and onto Itself
and suddenly
It sees
for the countless
meeting the Beloved once again
there in sight
for the very first time, yet again
always, always refreshing
always, always anew
right here and now

feeling the lips of the Beloved
touching the face of the Beloved
caressing the body of the Beloved
stroking the hands and fingers of the Beloved
kissing the feet and toes of the Beloved
as Its own
meeting Itself
as Itself
within forms
as forms
yet not really

time with the Beloved
so, so precious

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Some people say
‘I will wait for you’
Nice to be heard
Only to the fools

The wise would know
There is no such thing
As waiting only means
I’ve stopped living for you

For the one who hears
An innocent imposition
Suddenly bestow on him
A commitment not willing to be kept

What burden
One can’t even tell if dinner will be eaten
What more a lifetime
Of committing to another

What is being waited
Is it happiness, joy, love thereafter peace?
If it is so
Why the wait

How about
Just skipping the middleman
And start right now
With all that you’ve got?

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