Transcendence

Paradox

2016-08-30T14:49:00.002+01:00

Find quiet, more quiet.

Strive to fill yourself with quiet wonder.

Shake off the flappings of your heart into the ether around you

Release, through water and salt and air, sometimes some and sometimes all

Not all roads lead to destinations, some forked to test your say

Some dead ends to lead to questions inwards

Some winding ones to lead you astray

Come back, come back and find more quiet

More quiet, more compassion, more love, more joy

Revel in the questions, let answers seek you onward

Be lead by hope and light and goodness, sometimes some and sometimes all

Hold out your brokenness, and we're all broken (I assure you)

In more ways than visble, too

Look out into the seas and rivers,

Remind yourself how small you are

Look into your soul and senses,

Remind yourself how unending you are.

Remind yourself, that you are the biggest paradox of existence

And what joy it is to be so

Find quiet, more quiet.

Strive to fill yourself, with quiet wonder.

Wonder

2016-04-19T14:20:00.001+01:00

Suns have arisen and the blankets of stars are out.

I can see, that we've immersed ourselves, in a field

Away from all of this chaos.

I only need to escape from the mundane

For a moment to cross over parallel universes.

Does this happen? That oceans and sands, stars and leaves

Are enough company?

There are sleeping villages to wake

And caves filled with fireflies to see

Slow, slow - there is time ahead, it seems

But in fact, is there any?

A decade to this year, has gone by so quick.

I've grown, but not in built

If the soul could show it's

Greys and wrinkles, tell you it's tales,

You would see what I mean.

Maybe there isn't a we, and it will always be me.

On treks and walks under starry skies,

I'll see the Aurora Borealis, like I said I would

On my bucket list, but think,

Is this beauty still as beautiful

If not shared?

From the largest of oceans, to the whitest of sands

I revere each sight I am blessed with

But as I do, a corner of my heart

Sighs in a murmur

Would what I see, be fuller with beauty

Had our fingers by now,

Found each other.

All Along

2016-03-23T17:23:00.000+00:00

All this raw, crazy beating madness, that lives a life parallel to the calm composed outside. There's a million cells and a million thoughts rushing through veins, and yet through some mysterious power it holds ground in them all, ever present, ever persistent.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere, they are in each other all along, says Rumi.

Pregnant with each other's presence, a chest swollen up and full of love, we travel. We take each other by the waist, through each step. We are already experiencing each other’s worlds, just unaware that we are in the thick of a beautiful forest together, but alone. These goose bumps that travel through my skin, each time I close my eyes are just your fingers embracing my soul.

Lovers are in each other all along, he says.

I came to know love through time, a discovery I continue to make each day. It was an achingly beautiful song heard. Listened to patiently, word for word, hurt for hurt. Romanticised madness aside, we learn that we carry a madness for the other. Not madness, in the truest sense of the word, but madness in the matter of choice. Over and over, given the choice, I would choose this madness with you.

Over and over.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere, he says.

How many countless steps have we taken, unknowingly through each other, have you thought? This silent love that moves where I move, touching what I touch. I leave our imprints wherever I go. There are traces of you in places you haven’t even set foot on, is that not a bewildering thought?

Whether we be or we don’t, the beauty remains in the truth that we already are.

Knot Knowing

2016-01-21T10:50:00.001+00:00

In the fullness of everything, one suddenly lapses. Like air out of a balloon. No pin prick. No burst. Just a slow release. An existential crisis of the how and the why and the “is this necessary and should I be here, or there or someplace else”.

And if so, where is it that I belong? Why is there a pressing slit in my ribcage that questions where the soles of my feet are, and where my soul should be? Who put that slit there?

It is a slow, slow walk to somewhere – that I know. But where to, I know not.

As one unravels each knot, insides, one within another, sit still like a piece of cloth that has just been wrung out but not yet put up to dry. Do you know that damp, heavy stillness? But it’s sunny outside and everything is fine. It really, really is. So it’s not the outside that is damp, it’s the fibre of the cloth. That’s the cold one feels. That’s the cold, no matter how sunny it is it. You wait in a lump. Either to stretch out, or be stretched out, or stay put and dry.

There are moments of time warp in my head, where I am not sure which way I should be going. Or is it just okay to make peace with the fluidity of it all. That there is no destination and that you are just moving forward in respect of where you are right now. Or maybe you’re not moving forward, and that too is okay. Or is that deemed as being too comfortable? Not stretching yourself, and all that potential inside you.

The word potential always takes me back to physics, and energy. As moving masses of energy, we are the physics, chemistry and biology of all that there is. Surely, the energy we put out in thoughts, feelings, words and actions creates ripples and penetrates other energies? I walk around trying to imagine orbs of energy around me, beings with masses that have potential and kinetic energy.

Time and again, through the best and the worst, I have times when I sit with these knots inside my chest. And mostly, there is never a good solution to the process by which these can be untied. Maybe they aren’t there to be unpicked, but for me to be unpicked by them. To get perspective of the universe and the mitochondria, but at most times it is beautiful spillage of – energy, which I am sure goes around and comes back around in line with Newton’s observations.

Time, time, time. Best friend, worst enemy and above all, an effective teacher. Another year on, released, I watch the remnants dissolve slowly. Shed, shed, shed that skin once more. One of my favourite animals does, and what breath taking beauty emerges when it does.

Joyous Ache

2015-07-30T16:48:00.002+01:00

Open the box and feel each bead

On this one string of memory

This one, soothingly smooth

Wrapped in fingers, like in arms

This one, full of laughter

Lights up dark little crevices

Made blue by veins

And this one, with crossed over limbs

Brings back the joyous ache

Of pulled apart togetherness

Stories

2015-02-01T15:13:00.001+00:00

Stories

Snap out of one.
And submerge into another.
One has my voice.
The other my eyes.

Stories, both
One verbose
The other black and white.

I pull me out of incessant rambling
So I can chase words around pages
Full of characters, woven to entertain
As they live their journeys through my eyes
One syllable at a time

I make my way through the wars and losses, heartbreak and joys
Murder, deceit and lies
That fill these pages.

Only to recognise, stories are everywhere, within and outside

Stop now, don't you see?
There's no running
From that which makes up
The very fibre of our being.

Fall

2015-01-25T23:01:00.001+00:00

A paper boat makes its way
Upon a wave, unafraid
Until it rains, until it pours
And robs the boat of its control

A butterfly flutters by
Taking to colours and open skies
Until a bright orb shines its face
And the butterfly fades away

The mighty storm
The blinding lights
Have shaken my anchor
And closed my skies

As here I lie in my cocoon
For that which fixed me once
May do so again
Soon

What are?

2015-01-24T22:41:00.001+00:00

You to me. Fluidity.
Like streams gushing through crevices
You make your way through my veins.

Me to you. Memories.
Like stars that speak through foggy nights
I twinkle now and again, when you shut your eyes.

We to us. Journey.
An ongoing pace, a beautiful phase
Wherein we are constantly uncovering

Pieces of each other.

Melt

2014-10-26T21:45:00.004+00:00

There’s a stone in my chest

And one in yours

Hearts, hardened over time

Let’s rub them together

So we may get warm,

Forget of the wounds, they remind

Let’s breathe onto the surfaces

Of hard pitted rock

So goosebumps may appear

Let’s caress the grooved veins

That still pulsate with some life

Of moments we still hold near

Let’s rub them together

And light the spark

Which may turn into a fire

Let’s let these stones

Burn and melt together

Become one, engulfed in desire

(Dis)Integration

2014-09-23T23:21:00.000+01:00

Break me away

From these tangles

I find myself in

Creations of my own

Draw me out

As I struggle,

I drown, helplessly

In my own flood

The seconds of time

Like grains of salt

Rub against

The wounds in my soul

Pull me together

Amidst this storm

As I disintegrate

Into particles of dust

Make me One

With You

Like sand,

Dissolving into the sea

That anchors its shore by day

And makes its bed by night.

Time Travel

2014-09-21T23:42:00.001+01:00

What is it, that causes petals
To curl inward
And stay that way?

What is that, which
Keeps your eyes wet
And swollen?

This madness, that dissects
As it grows
Bleeds, as it flows.

Where is it?
My time turner?
Or did you steal that too?

Merge

2014-08-26T22:35:00.002+01:00

Come as you will,
Wounds and scars, and even though you bleed.
I will stitch you together.
With your thread that runs, through me.

I will soothe your burns,
Till the creases fade.
Till newness explodes
Through your every vein.

Come as you will,
Hold my hand,
Under starry blankets, amidst lost smiles
We gaze, as long as we stand.

Open the doors, let's let ourselves in,
In one another,
As we take the plunge, into these depths
Together.

Come as you will,
Scared, forlorn. Measured. Hesitant, doubtful.
I will blow gently on these, and watch them fall away.
As you come, into me, with a Love to stay.

© Sneha Singh 2014

Turn

2014-08-16T21:51:00.001+01:00

Day into night.
Hands on the clock.

Take the same time,
To turn.

Blink of an eye.
Breath from a sigh.

Take the same time,
To turn.

Screams from a loss.
Silent prayers at a cross.

Take the same time,
To turn.

Accepting regrets of a mistake.
Getting over heartbreak.

Take the same time,
To turn.

Hopeful sunrise.
Sunset sublime.

Take the same time,
To turn.

A fleeting life.
A halting death.

Take the same time,
To turn.

Blur

2014-04-06T20:58:00.001+01:00

Are you a leaf?
Floating in the wind.
Or the wind itself,
That I take within
Me, with every breath,
Weaving your presence
Into my existence.

Are you these birds?
That appear, wherever I go?
Or the wind beneath their wings,
As you keep me afloat.
Save me from drowning,
In spills of my own blood.
From wounds of a forgotten time,
A forgotten life.

I open, and feel warmth.
Safety, like none before.
I open, and feel a shiver.
I close.

Are you these flowers, these buds, that brush my skin,
Or are you the wind beneath their dance?
Reminding me of my own rhythm.

Masked as the wind,
You dance within me.
You drip from my soul,
My existence, my being.

Linger

2014-03-15T13:00:00.001+00:00

When a feeling crawls under your skin.
And stays.
Creates a home.
Watches you pray.

Insides turn. What? Why?
No answers.
So much spillage,
Yet, the questions turn dry.

A touch, and I'm alive?
Or heading towards another death?
Breathe into me again.
So we can live.

Erosion

2013-01-20T12:34:00.001+00:00

"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain." - Gibran

"Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place." - Rumi

What is this hole that sorrow carves, when it flows through us, eroding us like a river, that finally flows out our eyes, our souls and leaves? A river of sorrow, how rightly written, uprooting all that ever was, creating new soil for that may be. As it damages, and hurts, destroys and shakes, we grown numb, overcome by the destruction. And then says Rumi, to be silent, to be silent for only the Hand of God can remove those burdens that weigh your heart down.

Sit by the river of sorrow, watch it flow through you. Release through tears and aching screams. Let it take what it wishes to take with it. Your soul is the bank, the riverbed. Let it be washed. The erosion will shatter the bank and grain the riverbed, but let it flow. Let it take. In truth there are no goodbyes, as we are all headed toward the same God. Let this run through your heart, as the river of sorrow runs through your soul. And maybe, the pain of this great erosion will subdue, ever so slightly.

"Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes.Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation!" - Rumi

Departure

2013-01-19T13:48:00.000+00:00

Water flows
Out of control
I have lost the reins
Disappeared, no more

A million of me
I can see
All around, where do I start
In this silence, of sounds

The seconds shred my soul
As they tick by
Overflowing, until
I can no longer cry

Trying to undo
That which is weaved into me
I pull myself apart,
In an attempt to liberate thee

Truth be told, the pattern has been created,
Un-creating is the real mess
Let this burn, burn in the fire of pain
As I watch it leave me, slowly digress.

Sneha Singh © 2013

Upheavals

2012-12-09T13:30:00.000+00:00

"When you come to the edge of all the light you know and are about to step into the darkness of the unknown. Faith, is knowing that one of two things will happen. There will be solid ground to stand on or you will be taught to fly." ~ Richard Bach

When walking on the path of complete inner alignment and surrender, I have many a times been taught how to fly. It is almost like God's wings have swooped under me and taken me to a height I knew nothing about. Most importantly, these lovely little miracles have happened in solace, when nothing, BUT God could have come and lift me up.

As human beings, we get engulfed by what we think is our power. We have been blessed with education, learning, knowledge, reason, free will, (and if we are in the right place, free wi-fi!). But these gifts are to be shared, and used with kindness, and not as a means of being right and showing superiority. In the eyes of God, we are equal, so what good does it do you feeling superior in your own?

The things you own, and the things you think you are, are ultimately things of this world. I am not indicating that you must renounce it all and meditate on a mountain. I am simply suggesting awareness. Be conscious of the temporary nature of life, of social rules. Then the way you deal with others will change significantly. It will not be about you anymore, as you will have the conscious awareness that you are only a soul visiting this Earth with a purpose. Instead of seeking your identity in societal norms, seek your identity within God. In times of uncertainty and upheaval, rest, rest, rest. Rest in knowing God is at work. You may sleep, but He is always around you, looking after you. Your faith in Him will give you wings when you have forgotten how to fly.

Just rest, and show your Faith to Him.

© Sneha Singh 2012

Nothing

2012-10-31T22:55:00.001+00:00

Three years ago I was introduced to Tao. The foundation of Taoism is that it's not a concept that can be understood. You can't put it into words or explain it. It is a way that unfolds. Almost like, how someone can show you how to get to a destination but the experience of travelling to that destination is uniquely yours. The beauty of the Tao expresses itself through the natural and the mundane. It is open to present moment, fluid and does not have a predetermined way. Like a new river that takes birth in a glacier. The river cannot decide which way it wants to flow. It only flows. Embracing the effect of gravity, the pull of the ocean, offering no resistance to stones or other obstacles in it's path. It flows. And it finds a way. Flowing without active flowing. Doing by non doing. No analysis.

To some this may seem like an absurd way of being. How can you live like a river. For some this spells total dependency on the outside, as in the case of the river, dependance on gravity or the ocean to steer its path. But a truth we forget is that you may have the power in making choices but you don't have command over the way the universe unfolds through you. The universe is constantly trying to live through you and your choices. Therefore any unnatural choices you make have an effect on the unfolding. The purpose of universal existence is much greater than individual purpose. Individual purpose fits into it and not vice versa. Therefore when an unnatural choice or act is made/done there may or may not be an immediate effect. But if that does not fit with greater purpose, there will be an effect.

The way of the Tao is doing by non doing, that is merely letting things unfold as they should. This is always in line with universal existence. It's almost like asking, do you trust life itself or the universe itself to do nothing and let it work for you ?

This does not translate into idle behaviour. It actually translates into being utterly present and doing only that which is the need of the moment. If right now you are eating focus fully on eating. If you are reading, just read. Understand that in truth, only this moment exists and in one moment you can do only one thing. The Tao asks you to unlearn conditioned ideas and let the outside reflect your inner calm.

It reminds you that all storms are within. Only within.

(c) Sneha Singh 2012

Cleaning

2012-07-10T05:31:00.001+01:00

This time it isn't a long winded poem or a thought provoking quote.

This time it is plain old ramble.

I'm late spring cleaning. Spring went by oh-so-quickly and I've Only Just begun Cleaning. Time to take the old vision goggles off and see things with (as a friend put it) a new set of eyes. Just like, to realise oneself we are always told to meditate and go within ourselves deep down to the roots of our souls, sometimes it is essential that in order to reach our roots within we need to physically be in a place where our physical bodies have their roots. Of course, hence why " as within so without", isn't it?

I could only begin cleaning when I made an intent to clean. Cleaning requires effort. The broom is not going to sweep the house itself. And it has become apparent to me how beautifully the energy of intention works. Only the intent of cleaning took birth in me. I was given the tools and taught how to work them. I was taken and transported to where I needed to go. My only effort was and is the sweeping. The rest took care of itself. so on the whole, it feels like little effort.

When I started cleaning though, it seemed like a mountain climb. But Grace, beautiful Grace always has ways of protecting you if you believe in it. For anything to exist, belief is needed. Belief breathes life into its existence. By lending an idea our belief, we give it life. Our bodies without our souls would be carcasses unable to perform the wondrous tasks that they do. Similarly ideas without belief and faith are just a set of muddled thoughts constructed by us with no heartbeat to keep it alive. Ideas require an analytical initiation but with faith, they acquire a life of their own with a purpose to fulfill in this world and bring forward that, which can only come through the vehicle of your body and mind. Creativity is not human born, it is universal energy and genius in action through a vehicle called the human mind. We are not geniuses, but mere vehicles.

I realised this when I was cleaning. When we accept that creative ideas and beauty have a need to express themselves as that is their very purpose and virtue, we wouldn't feel as proud of our creative genius. Simply because we would acknowledge that the creative genius is not "ours"! We would feel humbled that universal energy chose us to express itself through us. Because you know as well as I do, that we all will go but creation has stayed and will continue to live.

So clean yourself. Sweep out the rubbish inside which leads you to have ideas that inflate your idea of yourself. Remain the instrument which you are. Know your importance. There would be no music without the instrument. So you are important, no doubt. But the flute did not create the music, He who breathes into the flute is the Real Creator.

© Sneha Singh 2012

Lessons from Nature

2012-06-17T15:25:00.001+01:00

A baby bird.

It opens its eyes, not understanding what it sees. Such an overwhelming world muddled with sounds and sights, beings and things. After a while it realises it has the beautiful gift of flight. Suddenly, there are are no boundaries. The whole world is it's own to discover. Imagine, how you would feel if you had a such a realisation? It is uncontainable, is it not?

So, slowly it finds a friend in the breeze. A love affair like no other. An indescribable high. The bird and the wind are now like beautiful lovers, entwined in each other arms each giving the other an identity. Overcome by this new joy, the bird rides the wind in exhilaration - the wind carries it's beloved to places unknown.

Then, comes a day when the bird is witness to a transformation.

The same breeze that breathed life into it's wings becomes a storm and destroys it's nest. Helpless and unaware the bird knows not what to feel. It is lost and alone, shivering in the storm.

But have you noticed?

The bird doesn't stop flying.

The bird doesn't stop loving the wind which gives flight to its wings.

It simply builds another nest.

© Sneha Singh 2012

When does God visit you?

2012-04-27T21:05:00.000+01:00

When he comes out of the blue

A meteroite shattering your home,
Be sure God is visiting you.
When you are beyond all hope
When you are robbed of the whole world
and your voice becomes eloquent
Be sure God is visiting you.
– Says Tuka, Pp. 95-96

Have you ever had an extremely tiring day and collapsed on your bed only for all thought to subside in you? As the tiredness slowly takes over, it is almost like you are too tired to even think and fall into deep peaceful sleep.

As is physical tiredness so is internal tiredness. In times of deep internal destruction, I have wrestled with my thoughts and emotions until my insides hurt. Internal fatigued to my maximum, I've been at the doorstep of nothingness many a times - where you cannot see further, when there is no path. That feeling causes an internal collapse.

And that collapse leads to surrender. Surrender to the Divine. At your most powerless, most vulnerable moment is when God visits you, rendering a peace that passes mental thought and understanding. There is no room for logic. In surrender, you detach - you flow.

As I read the above words by Tukaram (thanks to a beautiful friend for introducing me to them) I became absolutely sure of Divinity's presence as it flows through every breath in my Life. Instant Peace.

Let's face it - we all sit on the fence with Divinity at times, especially when its rough seas and we feel like abandoned children left to fend for ourselves. And we question, God where are you now. God why am I going through this? God what have I done to deserve this?

Beautifully, the mystics have always spoken of embracing the pain of this world, like an old friend. And when you do, God will come visit you. When you accept the circumstances or your 'situation' you understand the difference between 'life' and 'situation' and that the 'situation' is a part of your life, not your breath of life itself.

When you completely destroyed with nowhere to turn to, take a deep breath and be aware of the breath you slowly take. Give that breath attention and know it holds the power of your life.

Not the situation you are in.

Let God visit you. Often.

© Sneha Singh 2012

The Soaked Soul

2012-04-25T23:23:00.001+01:00

A thousand depths
I feel inside
My hollow caged frame

As I stand on the edge
Of my own body
Looking into it's valley

How deep you go
How far you run
Within, I wonder.

Sunshine of love
Mingled with clouds of sorrow
Give birth to a laughing rainbow
Originating from
My tear soaked soul.

(c) Sneha Singh 2012

Dormant Volcano

2012-04-18T04:44:00.001+01:00

Trying to lay still
Motionless
As a fire engulfs me inside
Trying to run
From my own self
No place to hide.

Calm, serene externally
My insides churn each moment
Shattered, strewn,
Torn apart
There's a million pieces to gather.

I close my eyes and look inside
Knowing not where to begin
So I fall to my knees
And ask You Please
Restore the peace within.

(c) Sneha Singh 2012

Eternal Sunshine of the Forgiving Heart

2012-03-05T14:03:00.000+00:00

I write with great joy about forgiveness, but do I forgive with great joy as well? I cannot explain the transformation an internal act of forgiveness brings with it. It needn’t be spelt out or overt. Silently forgive the one who doesn’t understand your state, who betrayed you, who hurt you. It’s a long process, and not at all easy. It drains you and you will be forced to face your ego and put it to rest. It is agonizing, but the outcome is liberation, almost like a new birth. I would like to compare it to the paradox of pain and joy experienced at childbirth, but I don’t know the process to make a comparison. In my head though, the analogy fits beautifully.

In the past few years, I have felt internal shifts within me which have been difficult to spell out. Probably, because an experience that transforms a portion of you cannot be described in words. How would a caterpillar describe its metamorphosis into a butterfly? It can only experience it, and the outward world can only view the final product. What goes on within the cocoon is God’s beautiful miracle, slowly unfolding, hidden from everyone’s eyes.

I don’t know if the world has noticed my miniscule transformations because I haven’t really asked anyone. But I know I feel them within me. As I said before, it is paradoxical, the pain of witnessing death within yourself accompanied by lightness due to disillusion of form. Watching a part of you die slowly, hurts so much as you know its time to unburden your heart and free yourself, for yourself. The beauty in this death is then that joy, which follows when one feels brand new – almost like a skin that’s moulted off you. And as much as it hurt let that part of you peel off, it is short lived. In the grander scheme of things, it is all short lived. My two favourite words to define life - fleeting and impermanent.

I know forgiveness is liberating, I have practiced it a few times, and I know from experience that it leaves you refreshed. It brings forth a new dimension in your life. Everyone and everything suddenly becomes friendly. The world once again becomes a happy place to live in. And yet, knowing this fact, I can never immediately put forgiveness into action when I know I should. I still go through the cycle of self criticism, drama, pain, self burden, anger, resentment, blaming before I am drained to tiredness and fed up of my own story. THEN I forgive. Hallelujah!

Through this piece, I am making myself aware of my own cycle and my internal desire to break free of it. And whilst I internally go through the cycle once more, I live in the truth that this is fleeting and temporary, but love is eternal and permanent. There is joy hidden in the pain, and healing within each wound.

PS – So many Rumi quotes I can feel inside me right now, but maybe those are for another day.

Love