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For Discussions on The Essence of This Thing We Do
A brother poet asked me a series of questions and I gave the following reply. As it was by PM, I have kept his queries private. I only know what I think I know (which is certainly not the body of all knowledge) and so in the hope of assisting my brother and others or at least stimulating debate on the nature and nurture of the Essence of this Thing POETRY We do - I offer the following words that I had privately shared and ask you my fellow poets to pitch in:
Poetry was an ancient discipline designed to enhance the evolution of its disciples - both readers and writers. It also can be a fine diversion and entertainment.
Like with other disciplines associating with other practitioners can be beneficial as much can be learnt and understood by reflecting upon their work.
There are many classical paths taught including in the West by the Greeks and the Druids, in China through the Daoists and also through the Sanskrit tradition.
In Sanskrit a poet before and in writing would follow the three gunas - prasada to offer to higher power the words to be written and to ask for their blessing and guidance, madhurya to offer to the reader the words and so that the taste of the words is pleasing and the gift of their enjoyment has the clarity to enable understanding and Ojah or strength of vigour.
Ojah enables poets to have the strength to be the conductor of our heaven sent messages. We may deepen our Ojah through physical practices such as yoga, meditation or chi kong. The sickly or drug addled writer is a modern conceit. Although clearly there is validity in altered states to find true meaning and writing can be beneficial to all from a hospital bed.
Poetry like all paths of power and routes to knowledge can lead due to its intensity to delusions and vanities. In short, it is like a medicine or drug with recreational, cure or kill qualities - our choice. So we need Ojah and must cultivate this so that poetry can feed us not feed off us. But in cultivation of the Ojas (the path of Kundalini) be wary of psychic manifestation as without the guide of a psychic master this can be a dangerous path indeed. And neither you or I are masters so we must tread carefully.
The map is set out before us (wherever our senses perceive) but like ye maps of olde be careful of the borders "Here there be Monsters" literal and mental.
God Bless Brother - by this grace this is all I have to give😀
MORE BROADLY I offer this forum to a general discussion on "this thing we do" the why and what of it and the adventure - so we can all discover more and explore further:
Poetry was an ancient discipline designed to enhance the evolution of its disciples - both readers and writers. It also can be a fine diversion and entertainment.
Like with other disciplines associating with other practitioners can be beneficial as much can be learnt and understood by reflecting upon their work.
There are many classical paths taught including in the West by the Greeks and the Druids, in China through the Daoists and also through the Sanskrit tradition.
In Sanskrit a poet before and in writing would follow the three gunas - prasada to offer to higher power the words to be written and to ask for their blessing and guidance, madhurya to offer to the reader the words and so that the taste of the words is pleasing and the gift of their enjoyment has the clarity to enable understanding and Ojah or strength of vigour.
Ojah enables poets to have the strength to be the conductor of our heaven sent messages. We may deepen our Ojah through physical practices such as yoga, meditation or chi kong. The sickly or drug addled writer is a modern conceit. Although clearly there is validity in altered states to find true meaning and writing can be beneficial to all from a hospital bed.
Poetry like all paths of power and routes to knowledge can lead due to its intensity to delusions and vanities. In short, it is like a medicine or drug with recreational, cure or kill qualities - our choice. So we need Ojah and must cultivate this so that poetry can feed us not feed off us. But in cultivation of the Ojas (the path of Kundalini) be wary of psychic manifestation as without the guide of a psychic master this can be a dangerous path indeed. And neither you or I are masters so we must tread carefully.
The map is set out before us (wherever our senses perceive) but like ye maps of olde be careful of the borders "Here there be Monsters" literal and mental.
God Bless Brother - by this grace this is all I have to give😀
MORE BROADLY I offer this forum to a general discussion on "this thing we do" the why and what of it and the adventure - so we can all discover more and explore further:
The map is set out before us (wherever our senses perceive) but like ye maps of olde be careful of the borders "Here there be Monsters" literal and mental.
You have no idea how applicable this is. Like all art, poetry can be an angel, demon, or perfect balance of both. I have been near death with the gluttony of its manna, and I have been near death from the starvation of its withholding. But never until now, having walked from the sun through that valley of the shadow, am I both balanced in knowledge and application. Though not a deity, Poetry commands (not demands) the respect of its presence through the power it wields to altar lives. It's a potter molding our inner desires into something tangible through verse.
The respectful reap the golden bounty of its harvest; the disrespectful discarded tares of its language.
Beautiful post, Whale.
You have no idea how applicable this is. Like all art, poetry can be an angel, demon, or perfect balance of both. I have been near death with the gluttony of its manna, and I have been near death from the starvation of its withholding. But never until now, having walked from the sun through that valley of the shadow, am I both balanced in knowledge and application. Though not a deity, Poetry commands (not demands) the respect of its presence through the power it wields to altar lives. It's a potter molding our inner desires into something tangible through verse.
The respectful reap the golden bounty of its harvest; the disrespectful discarded tares of its language.
Beautiful post, Whale.
