I came to life
With thoughts of up and down.
I saw a lot of space above me.
I found
that I was going flat
And soon
My face was pointed down
Towards my shadow.
The light of what’s to come
Is shining-in already
Here and now
And there is always
Plenty loving space
In all directions.
The view of up and down means that I had to grow. I had to be better. There was something to grow into. There was also the view of the horizontal of course. Yes, things happen and we are moving from here to there. But up is the direction that I wanted to grow into in my youth. All the idealistic people around me wanted this too.
But there were things, parts of my story, that pulled me to the horizontal view. You have to make a living. You are alone. Your body needs sustenance. There are achievements that you will need to fulfill. Some people will help you, and others will be a danger.
And chasing after achievements, you end up, or I ended up realizing that I had limitations, and these pulled me down. I failed to go up because I had flows in my character. This is what I came to believe.
Now I am old. I am eighty. I have a heart condition. I suffer with tremendous nerve pain in my feet. I know that we do not disappear when we die. I know that we are not who we think we are. There is a change in perspective that has to take place if we want to see this. It is not seeing really. But we can be in a state in which we know it. In order to know we need to switch our attention to a different mode, which is the gateway. And here it is. You can try it out right now.
Usually we give our attention to the objects. In the case of this painting, we give our focus to what is drawn and painted. And this is indeed what my story above spoke about. But try this: Try to let go of the objects, as if they don’t mater for the moment, and allow yourself to experience the space in the painting, that is everywhere. And tune in to yourself as you do it, so that you can feel what it does to you inside. There is a subtle sense of relief. Ahh… Like that. Do you feel it? Focusing on the objects turns out to have been an effort, compared to the experience of tuning in to the the space. This is the point of all of this art and poem.
The art was done without thinking. I was just following my sense of beauty.
The poem is a reading of the art, but it responds to the sense of beauty too. And because it does it, it brings to me this content, that the space inside of my mind wants me to get.
And here lies the power of art. Of all the arts.
intuitiveflow 