More on Sadness: Tagore Poem

This Tagore poem links sadness with creation:

It is the pang of separation that spreads throughout the world
and gives birth to shapes innumerable in the infinite sky.
It is this sorrow of separation that gazes in silence all nightf
rom star to star and becomes lyric among rustling leaves in
rainy darkness of July.
It is this overspreading pain that deepens into loves and
desires, into sufferings and joys in human homes; and this it
is that ever melts and flows in songs through my poet's heart.
-Gitanjali #84, Rabindranath Tagore

Sadness: Is It Necessary To The Spiritual Path?

On The Wild Things of God (I love that name!) today there is a about sadness. He describes the feeling of needing to fight sadness, to snap out of it. I know I've felt like that, but, it is interesting to ponder whether sadness is a necessary part of the spiritual path.

On the mundane level, sadness is definitely something to be avoided, but it seems very likely that the spiritual journey requires us to go deeper into sadness, to embrace it and not to resist. Every experience we are given has meaning. It is up to us to find it. By feeling every second of sadness with intensity, we cleanse it.

The judgment that sadness is wrong just because it doesn’t feel good is prevalent in our society. We are taught that we must understand the causes of sadness, and rid ourselves of it like a disease. Understanding sadness actually gets in the way of releasing it. It is more important to feel it than to understand it. Reason is irrelevant. We must trust that if God brings us sadness it is for a Divine purpose. Maybe we are processing something in our own past which is blocking our closeness to God or maybe we are bearing the burdens of a cultural sadness. By delving into our own feelings, we are helping humanity to discharge it. We are all intimately connected.

Our bodies are like river beds. We are the channel through which the Divine flows into the material world. It is our duty not to block the river. Denying our sadness, running from it, leaves the sadness to settle and damn river. So, in the conclusion (from someone who know nothing at all!), as uncomfortable as it is, sadness is necessary to the spiritual path.

Ouroboros

Yesterday I had a doctor’s appointment. It seemed like a normal appointment until, in the middle of a technical discussion, my doctor described one of my symptoms as a serpent with its tail in its mouth. I was floored. To hear an allopathic doctor refer to an ancient mystical symbol was completely unexpected.

The symbol of a serpent with its tail in its mouth, or Ouroboros (Auroboros/Uroboros), dates back to 1,600 BCE in Ancient Egypt but has been used at many times and in many cultures. I am most familiar with it from from medieval & alchemical manuscripts. (For an interesting discussion by contemporary alchemists click here.)

The Ouroboros contains so many meanings: the circular, cyclical nature of time, regeneration and rebirth, and all is one to name a few. My doctor used this symbol to describe a situation that once started, feeds on itself. He described it like a storm, once it starts it continues going round and round much like a tornado or “a snake with its tail in its month”.

If the Ouroboros contains the meaning that all ‘existence’ is one, one of its meanings must be Divine Intelligence. According to Plotinus, the One (emptiness, non-existence, & the womb of God) emanates Divine Intelligence, which is primal existence, pure Being. The Intelligence then emanates more forms, but It is the first division with the Godhead. Before it there is Nothingness, non-being. That the Ouroboros represents the oneness of “all existence” means it must necessarily represent the One’s first emanation: the Intelligence. Divine Intelligence or Reason cannot be comprehended by man. It seems, much like a tornado, to be a state of complete chaos. The moments of chaos in our lives, therefore, are moments when we come closest to knowing God’s existence.

I have always understood that my physical ailments are divinely sent. They have been my greatest teacher, my Guru so to speak, my guide into the hidden mysteries of life. But, sometimes this can be forgotten in the daily grind of life. Yesterday, in a phrase, the symbol of the Ouroboros reminded me of the gift I have been given: the closeness of my embrace with the Divine.

Update: As with most symbols, this one works on many levels. On one level it represents the Intelligence, but on another level it can represent the One as well. It is the union of opposites, the end (the tail) and the beginning (the head) at the same time. Its circularity recalls the Womb of God, the nothingness, precipitated by holding two opposites as one, which births forth the Universe. During the medieval period they also spoke of this state as the squared circle.

Everything in Nothing

From the very first, not a single thing exists
Within that 'not a single thing' lies inexhaustible treasure:
The great seas are in it; rivers and mountains also.

Hui-neng, 6th. Patriarch of Ch'an/Zen

New Etchings

Etching was great today. My rest was really fruitful. These are in progress:

An Artistic Time-Out?

Maybe I’ve been spending too much time with young children lately, but it seems like recently the universe gave me a time-out. I have one day a week in the etching studio. So every time I go in, I push like crazy to get as much done as I can. The problem was I spent so much energy trying to “do,” I was stealing from, blocking the Divine creative flow. I was trying to control something which can not be controlled.

So, the last 2 weeks I became ill on my etching day and couldn’t go in. In the past, I would have tired to push and go in. Now I am trying to live without control. So I stayed home and waited. Then I waited some more.

Today I felt compelled to pick up my dry point, in preparation for my studio time tomorrow, and it was as if a wall had dissolved. I have a freedom and flow that was absent before. I’m a grateful that I trusted the experience that was sent to me instead of trying to control it. There is merit in waiting.

Tomorrow I will post some of my prints.

The Womb of God & the Artist

This is so radical:

When I stood in my first cause, I then had no “God,” and then I was my own cause. I wanted nothing, I longed for nothing, for I was an empty being, and the only truth in which I rejoiced was in the knowledge of myself. Then it was myself I wanted and nothing else. What I wanted I was, and what I was I wanted; and so I stood, empty of God and everything. But when I went out from my own free will and received my created being, then I had a “God,” for before there were any creatures, God was not “God,” but he was what he was. But when creatures came to be and received their created being, then God was not “God” in Himself, but he was “God” in the creatures. (p. 200) Meister Eckhart (13th century German Christian Mystic)

Eckhart is telling us that the idea of “God” blocks God. Words, ideas, even knowing itself is another veil between the soul and God. He wants us to go deeper into God, to release everything- ourselves, God, even the will to do God’s will. In doing so, he directs us to the womb of God, to Pre-Being. The womb of God eternally births God as Being, Reason, etc. all the active attributes of God. It is everything in potentiality. Eckhart’s idea echoes Plotnius’ concept of the One that emanates the Intelligence.

So where is the artist in this? Eckhart is giving us a road map to tap the creative well of the Divine. In releasing everything, language, wants, attachments, we will ultimately connect to that place within us that birthed us. This is the Womb of God, a state of Pre-Being which births forth the Universe eternally. It is the ground, the basis, cause of all form and of existence itself. To contact that ground within ourselves causes an immediate creative birth or emanation. If an artist finds this place, their creative output is assured. Eckhart describes this state thus:

If it could be that a fly had reason and could with its reason seek out eternal depths of the divine being from which it issued, I say God, with all that he has as he is “God,” could not fulfill or satisfy the fly. So therefore let us pray to God to be free of “God,” and that we may apprehend and rejoice in the everlasting truth in which the highest angel and the fly and the soul are equal- there where I was established, where I wanted what I was what I wanted. (p. 200)

Sufi Poetry

This an interesting site with translations of Sufi poetry. Sufi poetry, in my experience, comes closest in words to portraying the experience of ecstatic love and union with the Divine. Although not unique to Sufism, I love the use of the lover/Beloved imagery to represent the mystic's longing for God. It's so powerful and moving. Here is a taste of Rumi from a translation by Coleman Barks. Really it's reworking of an AJ Arberry's translations, so maybe not so close to the original? I couldn’t say but it is still beautiful. But my favorite volume of Rumi has gone missing and this will give you an idea of it.

Spring paints the countryside.
Cypress trees grow even more beautiful,
but let's stay inside.
Lock the door.
Come to me naked.
No one's here.

If you read this poem as a mystic, it is sublime.

Jewish Mysticism & The Veil of Pain

Man is too weak to accept or absorb divine love, which is absolute. For that reason, and that reason alone, does God cover it with the veil that is pain. - Rebbe Zusia (pg. 113)

I’ve been continuing my rereading of Lex Hixon’s writings. This quote is from an essay entitled The Landscape that Laughs in Coming Home: The Experience of Enlightenment in Sacred Traditions by Lex Hixon about 18th century Jewish mystics. It’s wonderful if you ever have chance to read it.

The concept of pain as a veil to God’s light is extraordinary. The whole world is veil to shield us from the intensity of God’s light, but in this essay Hixon explain something amazing:

Zusia speaks of our suffering or pain as a Divine veil but suffering also removes the human veils by which we have obscured the Divine Life living through us. The soul master accepts suffering to unveil the intrinsic freedom of the soul. (p. 114)

There are two actions working here: humans protecting themselves from the Divine and the Divine protection of humans. Humanity resists Divinity out of fear. We refuse to follow Divine guidance; we act without honor; we choose smallness over change. Those actions are the veils we create to resist the chaos of Divine Reason. Hixon explains through Rebbe Zusia that the painful experiences in our lives act in a two fold way to clear away our internal blocks to God while still protecting us from complete annihilation in the brilliance of the God Head.

I see the beauty and truth in his point. In my own life pain has transformed me, made me softer, more open, more able to love & to create art. But I do quarrel with his terminology here. He uses pain & suffering almost interchangeably. To me, these are quite different terms. Pain is the nature of the human condition. I do not believe suffering is, suffering can be transcended through acceptance of pain. It is resistance which causes suffering. Suffering is a human veil. Pain is a Divine veil.

Kandinsky's Concerning the Spiritual in Art

Princess Haiku mentioned Kandinsky's book on her blog and it got me thinking. Most of what the book says has no interest for me, except this:

But to a more sensitive soul the effect of colours is deeper and intensely moving. And so we come to the second main result of looking at colours: their psychic effect. They produce a corresponding spiritual vibration, and it is only as a step towards the spiritual vibration that the elementary physical impression is of importance. (p. 24, 1977 ed.)

I have always believed this. Artwork can create spiritual changes within a viewer and these changes have little to do with a piece's imagery or visual impact. But I would go further than Kandinsky. It's not just color that holds a spiritual vibration, it is the entire physical matter of the painting that can resonate. The physical materials of artwork capture the spiritual vibration of the artist.If an artist struggle with their work, they are really confronting the blocks they have to connecting to the Divine flow, the source of all creativity. When an artist sticks with it and is present to the block for long enough, no matter how difficult or painful that might be, that block will crumble and the artist will undergo a spiritual transformation. The energy from that transformation becomes embedded in their art. This energy then has the potential to resonate with and heal others.When I was practicing the art of illumination, I discovered creating art that effects on a vibrational level can go even further. Illumination was a sacred art in the medieval period. A major component of this art was the creation of art materials. By making art materials in a peaceful meditative state artists can create works of art that literally resonate with healing energies.

Winter- When an Artist Rests

Halloween wore me out completely. Because of it, I've missed my etching studio time & my ceramics class. So what does an artist do when we can't create?I'm believe that for artists, the times we are not working are just as important as the times we are. When we are working, tremendous amounts of energy and information flow through us into the world. We need time to absorb and integrate that into our systems. Like perennial flowers, we need to rest between flowering. These quiet times are like winter in a garden. It looks dead and lifeless, but the roots are charging for the explosion of spring.Anyway, that's how I'm consoling myself for missing my working time this week....

What St. Francis Tells the Artist

There is a 14th century manuscript included in Francis and Clare: The Complete Works (The Classics of Western Spirituality), which describe what St. Francis considers “perfect joy”. I can’t tell you how much this story has helped me. I’ve paraphrased it here:

Brother Leo asks St. Francis, “What is perfect joy?” St. Francis replies listing the things that would logically bring him great happiness: If all the masters in Paris join my order, it would not be perfect joy. Or if all the masters in Europe, and the King of France joined the order, that would not be perfect joy. And if all the non-believers in the world were converted and I had the grace from God to heal all sickness, that would not be true joy.

(Okay, so what would it be? Get ready!)

“I return from Perugia and arrive here in the dead of the night and it is winter time, muddy and so cold that icicles have formed on the edges of my habit and keep striking my legs, and blood flows from the wounds. And all covered with mud and cold, I come to the gate and after I have knocked and called for some time, a brother comes and asks: “Who are you?” I answer: “Brother Francis.” And he says: “Go away; this is not a proper hour for going about; you may not come in.” And when I insist, he answers: “Go away, you are a simple and a stupid person; we are so many and we have no need of you. You are certainly not coming to us at this hour!” And I stand again at the door and say: “For the love of God, take me in tonight!” And he answers: “I will not. Go to the Croisers’ place and ask there.” I tell you this: If I had patience and did not become upset, there would be true joy in this…” (p.165-6)

It is this passage that inspired me to make an altar of St Francis’ feet. How can seeming misery be joy? Illness and wounds, whether physical or metaphorical, can bring enormous suffering. Our experiences of pain are mirrored for us by St. Francis' stigmata. On my altar I planted the aloe vera plants in his stigmata to show that our wounds can bring healing to our lives. But this, St. Francis counsels us, is only possible through acceptance not struggle. It is struggle that produces suffering, and acceptance which produces joy. There are, in fact, things that happen in each life that can not be changed and which seem completely unacceptable, things like severe illness, disfiguration or scars, & the death of a loved one to name a few. St. Francis shows us that there can be happiness, even joy in the face of these terrible events and from that healing. Pain & joy are not mutually exclusive emotions and healing depends on the coexistence of the two.

I mention this only because it is so easy to be thrown by the events of life and to forgo making art. But art is life blood to an artist and we must learn not to be crippled in the face of great obstacles rather we must create.