I won’t let you go…

I just read Rabindranath Tagore’s poem I Won’t Let You Go (Jete Nahi Dibo, translated from the Bangla by Fakrul Alam).

It is our perennial anthem. Our longing to grasp, to hold fast to – all that is dear, all that is ours. And this in the face of a world of leavings, of things torn away, of hearts torn apart. In the face of the unraveling of every minutely, carefully worked weaving. A conclusion denied but inevitable.

Still we stand in the face of the inevitable.

And still we cry, I won’t let you go!

Boulder Shooting Suspect Bought Gun Days Before Attack
Mourning after the mass shooting in Boulder, Colorado.

yogāyoga

Mid to late afternoon, after tea, after reading Tagore. I lie down on the couch and curl up like a comma. Not to sleep, but to go quietly inside and think things through.

Today, I am considering the collision of world-views.

A few blog posts back I considered this distance that separates in the air you breathe: the inevitability of the separation that results from being coiled into our cultural cocoons.

The divide is fractal, existing not only on the macro level of culture, but on the micro level of any two individuals. We are all blind, in varying degrees, to the ground upon which we stand. We look out into the world, thinking that we see objectively. But the really real is veiled by the innumerable beliefs we hold about it.

What to do, then? Just give up and sink into the false conviction that only my world-view is real?

It occurs to me that attempting to bridge the gap is why we’re here. Here, now, in apparent isolation from everything else. Our attempts to find connection may often be clumsy and miss the mark. But we can’t give up the project.

This conundrum reminds me of the title of one of Tagore’s novels: Yogayog. That is, yoga + ayoga. Yoga – connection, and its opposite – ayoga – separation. The former is the ultimate reality that underlies everything. The latter is the relative reality in which we spend most of our time.

May we support each other in the attempt to bridge the gap and find connection. The survival of everything depends upon this.

joy

Today the sun shines. The banks of snow begin to warm and sink into the still hidden earth. Spring is not yet here, but its song is whispered. Our winter souls recognize the melody and start to thaw…

Joy erupts…

Today I had bharatanatyam class #19 with Supratim Talukder. In spite of his observation that my attempt at Natta Adavus #8 was woefully lacking, I feel flooded by an irrepressible optimism. Guided by his observations, I will improve. And he introduced me to some rhythmic footwork in the Pancha Nadai. I love playing with rhythm. My father was an amateur percussionist, and I carry on his love of rhythm. I’m SO excited to explore this new footwork! Beating out rhythms with my feet…

The rhythm of the changing season fills my soul. Time to get out for a walk – to taste the promise that fills the air.

Joy!

Photo credit: Sophie Chargé

the body doesn’t lie

it lays bare all the heaped-up mistakes and missteps

for the world to read

mind doesn’t mind fooling itself for a time

but the body doesn’t lie

life –

that fractal multiplier expressed in

rounded shoulders, caved in chest, and hesitant step –

life –

offering the blank page of a full and free breath –

can I breathe myself new?

here, now

reshape myself,

and – the world?

from the formless

Coiled into fertile darkness,

I wait.

A gentle thrumming

– shaking

                awaking –

tentative roots from the formless, form.

Downward push.

Snaking into a question…?

The answer unfurls upward, breaking the soil, seeking the light.

Opening green, eating sun, flowering, fruiting, feeding –

life arising!

Creeping, crawling, flying –

– walking.