Tuesday, February 24, 2009

STILLNESS


How can meditation tidy up a cluttered mind, or teach an old dog a new trick? How can mantra, the chanting, do something to our soul? And how can meditation let go of the ego? Things about meditation seems unfathomable. I guess no book can make me understand unless I go through meditation myself.

How is it to be selfless? Sometimes it gets tiresome to live in this egocentric world. Of this crowd clamoring for recognition and power. Of wanting to outsmart one another. Of being hurt and wanting to hurt back. We all run around playing an unsynchronized orchestra. No wonder, we are such a noisy world. Yet, this noisy, clamoring crowd is nothing but a reflection of my inner crowd. This inner crowd, my broken self playing out of tune.

Many times I try to play my music the best way I can. But I have not perfected it that every time I encounter people playing their music out of tune, I start to play out of tune myself. And so the unsynchronized orchestra starts over again.

There must be something better in life than this. Can meditation help me play my instrument a little better each day? Until I could play it easy and effortless. Because however small, playing my music in harmony can make a difference in the orchestra I belong.

I am listening to this radio program at Radio Veritas every sunday entitled Sacred Space on the Air sponsored by the Dominican Sisters of Regina Rosarii. Listen how they talk about contemplative prayer, meditation, and the healing sound.


Monday, February 2, 2009

DOES IT RHYME?

I started out writing together with my (two) friends. But the word "together" makes it inaccurate. They write and they share their writings to me, while I write but keep my writings just for myself. I was not sharing, so I was not "together" with them. The thing is, they write in poetry.. I DON'T. And that made me feel insecure. Somehow I felt that my own writings were second best. If words don't rhyme, then they ain't good enough! So I clammed up. I continued writing just for myself. Attempted to write poems but failed many times. Actually, I was able to write a few. But it didn't pass even my very own amateur yardstick. It's either I'm not really good at it or I'm just not into it. It's not a liberating experience for me when my thoughts are confined in rhymes and meters. So I gave up poetry. I just contented myself in reading my friends' writings. Reading their poems was my favorite pastime then. I miss those days... Good memories.

I remained writing free flowingly. Ironically, sometimes, I am able to write poems with no intentions. Just recently, I shared one of my writings to a friend. Then I was so surprised when she uttered "Very nice poem. Beautiful!". What poem? I don't know how to make one! But she insisted it was a poem.

Here's another one that I wrote years back. It was not meant to be a poem but seems that it turned out to be one as well. Funny that I can actually make it when I'm not trying.
SONG


IT'S A FAMILIAR SONG THAT I SANG FROM A BROKEN PAST. THEN I STOPPED WHEN SINGING IT HAS BEEN KILLING ME DOWN. I HAVE QUASHED IT SOMEWHERE I WOULD HEAR IT NO MORE. SUBDUED DEEP DOWN THAT NOT A SINGLE MELODY WAS ALLOWED TO STRUM IN MY HEART. I LIVED FAR FROM IT. SERENELY. UNHARMED. AND WENT ON WITH MY DAYS SINGING A DIFFERENT SONG. THEN ONE DAY I HEARD IT ALL BREAKING LOOSE. THE SONG, SO BEAUTIFUL, SO REAL, AND SO PAINFUL. THE OLD FAMILIAR SONG, AGAIN, SINGING THROUGH MY VEINS. REACHING MY HEART WITH ITS POISON CHARM. WEAKENED AND STRANGLED ME WITH ITS SUAVE, KILLING TONE. ENCHAINED AND IMPRISONED ME IN A PLACE FROM MY PAST....
I AM NOT SINGING YOU NOW AND NEVER AGAIN. I AM SINGING ANOTHER TUNE, SO PLEASE LET ME BE..