A shining star

While unwittingly watching a short clip of a movie called "Stardust," I heard a most amazing sentence that rings positively true for me at least - "For a star to shine, her broken heart has to be mended." Our creative abilities stagnate as long as our hearts remain broken. No wonder so many of us do not reach our highest potential. I believe that every soul has a beautiful and unique song it needs to share with the world. And I had been living with an incomplete heart for many years, wandering in distraction, unable to sing my paeans for my Creator. Then, I was gently guided on to mindfulness and meditation and I began to reclaim lost realms of my heart. Now, every day brings with it generous bounties to be savoured at will. Thank you, God.

Caring or scaring?

In relationships, people are either caring or scaring. Scaring or s-caring as u notice has caring within it. But there is also another element. That of instilling fear in order to control. What is the origin of that? The psychology in the words of the s-carer is "Life is so beyond my control and scary. If only u wil do exactly what i tell u to, i wil hav some element of control over life and i can b a little at ease."

So in relationships, when people start micromanaging their loved ones, they do it out of fear. Caring is unconditional love, support and compassion. Scaring has some caring in it but not a whole lot: It is as u can see for yourself all about the scarer and not u. 

An explanation

My previous poem 'Mysterious guest' can be found here: http://tryzt.blogspot.in/2017/07/the-mysterious-guest.html?m=1

This poem is about lovingly meeting our emotions. The mysterious guest is past pain. She presents as an ache in the heart. The general tendency is for us to turn away from it because it is so uncomfortable. But distraction only makes the energy stay stuck. We can instead place our attention gently on the physical sensation of the stuck energy or heartache. Allow it to be without resistance. Without wanting it to go away. Then the feeling softens. Continue to feel the physical sensation of it. Compassionate nonjudgmental witnessing. There may come a flash of insight into the mind. About the reason behind the stuck energy. You can express it. Maybe by crying. Maybe by writing. Or in any way that helps. As you meet your full experience with awareness and acceptance, the energy becomes unstuck. It then integrates with the main energy flow. This is often felt as a blissful feeling. Now you are more whole than before. This is the integrated Adult. What we did was integrate a fixated Egostate. Then another one may show up after a while. And the process continues. And we become more n more whole again. Infinite potential.

The mysterious guest

Knocking on the door of your soul,
Pressing against it with all her might,
This sad song you must not fight.
Welcome her with love
Into your heart's alcove.
She carries a secret treasure
To be bestowed at her leisure.
Apply no pressure
To change her or make her leave.
Dont let her become your pet peeve.
Gently allow her to be.
Open your eyes and see.
Listen to her lyric.
Shy away from being a critic.
Her words are ancient;
Remarkably prescient.
When her golden curls unfurl,
Read eagerly from her scroll.
Mysteries of the past
Are revealed long last.
Don't be in a hurry!
Do embrace her story!
If you stay with her for a while,
Her frown effaces into a smile.
When no longer under any duress,
She eases into your caress
In a time of timelessness
And the space of spacelessness.
The bliss of union permeates
Every nook and invigorates
As she seamlessly merges
Into the depths of your soul.

A tribute to Harpy's Child

The wounds of the body draw attention.
The wounds of the mind yield derision:
Festering, ever painful, hidden
Waiting to be healed and ridden
Of shards of rage and blisters of sorrow
Lurking beneath hope of a joyful morrow.
An aching heart cries out in exasperation,
Only to be banished in frustration
To a gloomy exile
Amidst words that rile.
These sad overtures are in vain
As companions flee to avoid pain.
"Keep your chin high," they say
"Get rid of emotions that overstay!"
Yet the heart does not relent
From the inner torment.
The veneer of respectability
Holds its own against every scrutiny.
At once a monster and a benefactor,
A killer of your spirit yet benevolent
Picture perfect yet malevolent,
Nursing you while crushing your heart;
Contradictions abound tearing you apart.
Tears well up unseen
In memory of actions that demean;
This pain too shall silently subside
For in whom will you confide?
If the hand that rocks your cradle
Be the hand that smothers your soul
What chance do you have of survival
Of finding support, of revival?
Who wil believe your tale?
Pull you up when you fail?
Don't look outside for hope
They cannot lend you a rope
In the dark night of your soul
Only you can make yourself whole.
Learn to dig deep
And gently seep
Into the treasures of your spirit
That exude wisdom without limit.
Ease into the peace of your being
That is the end of your suffering. 

People contain in themselves multitudes

People contain in themselves multitudes,
Of varying beliefs, feelings and attitudes.
Of a singular entity, there is no certitude:
At once nurturing and critical,
Alternatingly rational and irrational;
Suddenly rebellious, then compliant,
At times a Parent, next a Child,
Many facets drop in and out,
Through the mind's revolving door.
Fools chase after such passing clouds,
Hold onto old grievances and what nots,
A long lost love, a fleeting joy,
Life's enchanting ensnaring ploy.
Today I whisper sweet nothings,
Tomorrow I mete out cruel beatings
Yesterday I laughed, now I weep,
There is no permanent I to keep.
The wise know this simple truth:
People contain in themselves multitudes.

I

I long for solitude.
The world deems this a limiting attitude!
But I exist only
In the intervening quiet spaces
That elude them.

Amidst the barrage of tumbling words,
In the silence that hangs like a Damocles sword,
I find my salvation.
Neither an object nor a subject to be
I just am.

Nothing sticks to me:
Not even ties of love or hate
Not even the threat of an unknown fate.
I flow invisibly
Gathering no moss
Incurring no loss
Blissful and free.