Unschooling is like preparing the "Living Soil" - Me!

I feel many a time that this whole journey of unschooling and everything that goes with it is actually more about preparing the "living soil" for the little plant to grow and flourish in...and that living soil for me is MYSELF first...it is not something that I do to make the home or environment a happy, enriching place, but more about tilling myself and adding and taking away stuff within me, to make myself a little more open and nourishing each day, so that I get out of the plant's way.

Full and Empty

Thay says: "You see this glass. It is empty. Empty of what? It is empty of tea, but full of air.....emptiness is not a negative thing. It is a wisdom...a father is empty of himself, but full of his son....a son is empty of himself, but full of his father....so we inter-are."

 As I read this, I cannot help but feel that emptiness, pain and empathy are so closely inter-related. They inter-are.

When one truly feels the pain of another, one is empty of oneself. Is that then real empathy?

When one feels the pain of suffering then, is it because one is so full of the other and empty of oneself?

Is that why some pains are so deep that they cannot be erased or forgotten? Is that why they sting you to your innermost core?

And yet, both states of feeling and being - either empty or full, bring so much joy.....for you are never really empty of something, nor are you really full of something. Yet another paradox of life!

Wait Until Dark

It is a dark, stormy night and I have lost my way home. I look ahead and see a dark gaping hole in the rock face. My instinct takes over and draws me towards it. Am I drawn in by the instinct to survive in all odds? Am I drawn in by a deep need to feel safe and secure? Am I drawn in by the mystery of exploring something that I don't know? Am I on a mission to find out something and share it with the world? Or am I just being myself - the tireless explorer of the human landscape? I don't know....and yet it is this very feeling of not knowing that draws me in to its clutches. And so I go in.

It looks like a cave or a tunnel. An ancient one. I cannot see much, but I use my animal instincts to smell and feel my way around. It smells and feels like a cave or a tunnel. But how do I know that? Can I be sure? "It doesn't matter", I tell myself and move on. It is ok to not know and not be sure. That is the mystery that beckons me to take the next step and not stand still. For, the minute I think that I know, I would lose my need and ability to walk in the darkness. And so I go on.

Suddenly I find that I am not scared; I am not worried about feeling safe; I am in no need to hurry and get to anywhere. I quite like being in the darkness around me. I am beginning to like the cave. I want to make it my home. I want to stay there longer......just a little longer. Just then, something screeches and flies over my head. I am shaken. I want to move on again. I want to make sure that this place is really safe.

But this time, as I feel my way around, I realise that there is no light anywhere.....it is not a tunnel...there is no "light at the end of the tunnel" guarantee that I can look forward to. I cannot see ahead or behind. I can only see where I am now, through my whole being. I can no longer depend on one or two senses to understand where I am. I have to look with my whole self and yet grapple my way around. There is no one to tell me or show me the way. There is no way that is clearly marked or seen. But there is a light that shows me the way....my intuition, my sense of self, my ability to see with my being...and so I go on.

By now, I have no desire to get anywhere. I want to just be. I want to feel and be with the darkness. I want to like it and understand it by drowning in it. I want to know that I can live with it. So I sit down and close my eyes, resting my head against what feels like hard rock. Time and space have no meaning anymore. I feel expansive and light. I open my eyes...

I discover that I have been sitting in what seems like paradise! I see the countless flowers glistening in the sunlight, nodding their heads to the wind as it dances with them....I see the shadows of the trees and myself stretching across the glistening green...where did the tunnel go? I wonder. Or was it all just a playing out of my mind? I don't know.

Well, I am just happy to be where I am NOW, as I stop to breathe in the wonder, peace and light that is with me this moment....and yes, I am beginning to like the darkness too...if only I can wait until dark...

Forgiveness

Let the wind
of forgiveness
take me
into its loving arms...
Let it hold me
in its humbling space -
like a mother embraces
her straying child...
let me drift along,
with grace,
into the open, infinite,
loving space...
a colourful kite -
now a blur of colours,
that has severed
the thread of memories
that held it back for long...
let me now flow
like the wind
that takes me
to places that I've
never been before,
let me forgive, forget
and flow on...
I am set free,
I have everywhere to go...

Let the phone ring

let the phone ring
while you pause
to smile with a child,
let the phone ring
when you watch
the soup as it boils,
let the phone ring
while you're
lost in a song,
let the phone ring
when you feel
sad and forlorn,
let the phone ring
when you take
a walk in the park,
let the phone ring
while you hear
the song of a lark,
let the phone ring
when you're
in touch with yourself,
when time and space freeze,
you don't need the rest.

To See Love

a Venus flytrap
traps a spider
with its tongue,
a bald eagle
swoops to hunt
with its sharp talons,
a raging mountain
spews fire
to destroy, to create,
a swirling tornado
sucks everything
in its path to take;
a flower, a bird,
a mountain, a storm,
each is precious,
a miracle to behold;
each has a role,
each plays its part,
not stopping to ponder
or to change its part,
for to love, is to know
and to be oneself,
every gift, every role,
revered with respect.

The Magic Pot

Can I be
the magic pot
that fills up
when its bottom's up?

Can I be
the pot that holds all
to pour out love
inside-out?

Can I be
so full of love
so I can give
without running out?

Can I be
both empty and full,
and not worry if I have
enough to give?

Can I be
the endless ocean of love,
where what goes in
comes out only as love?

On the bridge

I stand on a bridge
not knowing where to go,
going one way first,
then to the other shore,
losing my way
between my heart and my mind,
until I stand in the middle
not looking ahead or behind,
I look at myself
in the waters below,
it doesn't matter anymore
if I don't reach the shore.

Meerkat or Songbird?

I don't want to be a meerkat
watching the sky,
always on the lookout,
to take cover or hide.

I want to be a songbird
that serenades the sky,
perched on a branch,
with nothing to hide.

a song that bursts forth,
when my soul is at rest,
not when I'm flying,
in search of my nest.

A Letter to Anger

Dear Anger,

I see you in me many times, and in others around me.
You make me feel unloved and small.
I feel scared to look you in the eye and beyond.
I know that you have a friend that you hide behind yourself...Love.
I know I have to make peace with you, to love.
I know that She can help to make you my friend too.
For that, I have to reach out to you and touch you.
I need to hold you in my arms like a mother does her child.
I need to love you until you find love and become mine.

A Thousand Splendid Suns

A young woman
once stood
on a thousand pieces
of shattered glass,
a thousand
winged dreams
lay grounded
in the dust;
watching each step,
softly, gently, she tread,
scared of  being bruised
and losing her head;
until she looked down
upon each tiny piece,
to find each was a mirror
she now loved and wanted to keep;
for when she looked into
each piece that she found,
she owned a part of herself
that she'd lost or didn't want;
a thousand dreams shattered,
but picked up with love,
when she owned each part,
she found a thousand splendid suns!

I am a cup

I am a cup
sometimes empty,
sometimes full;
as I feel my emptiness,
I fill myself
up to the brim;
as I feel my fullness
I empty myself
down to the skin;
until I am happy
to feel both
empty and full,
when I own them together,
I have enough to give.

The Old Knife

like an old  knife
newly whetted,
always aware
of its true nature,
as it cuts through
different things
in its path,
with an ease
that comes
when it is
what it's meant to be,
and when it knows -
its life purpose
is to be
but a knife -
to cut deep,
to peel unwanted layers,
to reach into
the forbidden fruit
every single time!

Cling Wrap

where is the real 'me'?
are you here?
for me to see?
lifetimes of falsehood
cling to a soul,
unrelenting,
unnerving,
layers to peel off,
oh! how many more?
to reveal, to nourish,
the wonder within -
shrouded for eons,
under sheer skins;
yearning for freedom
from an unnatural form,
when the cling wrap is pulled off,
it reveals the song.

In Search Of Love...

in search of love...
I swim
I wade
I wait
I watch,
I meander
I hunt
I bait
all for love;
an endless search
in an endless sky,
stops
when I look within,
I give up,
I cry;
for I have been yearning
elsewhere for love,
that I find in myself
the fountain,
the source,
now gliding,
now swaying,
to the rhythm
and flow,
I don't have to wait
for the waters
to run dry anymore!

Chameleons

swirling colours,
shimmering silks,
heady fragrances,
flowers on strings,
lifeless smiles,
small talk beguiles;
chameleons crawl,
dart across and hide,
changing colours
so swift and agile;
watching in fear
as the world goes by;
I freeze, I'm lost -
I don't belong
to the tribe,
one who's long-forgotten
how to change colours,
and  hide,
I sit with myself,
a storm raging inside,
eyes fill with water,
I've nothing to hide;
colours awash,
for all to see,
is a chameleon
that's brazen,
and as alive as can be!

From Darkness to Light

the sun
gently
cuts through
my being;
a warm knife
slicing butter -
melting
in complete surrender,
because
it is its nature
to melt
to surrender
to radiate
to fill
to be
with a golden hue
inside-out;
all that is darkness
sees light.

The Lost Temple

at the point
where my feet
are sucked into
the wet earth,
buried and hidden
under countless layers,
swept over
by the unforgiving waves
of time and space,
is the fossil
of my inner self;
as I stoop down
to scrape
the moist earth
like cake,
I find beneath,
a temple intact;
waiting to be unearthed,
is my true, loving self.

Giving and Receiving

I am the fish
cutting through the water,
I am the water
giving way to the critter;
I am the sea
lit by the sun's glory,
I am the sun
crowning all with my story;
I am the bird
giving weight to the wind,
I am the wind
where the bird's journey begins;
I am the tree
giving roots to the earth,
I am the earth
holding up its hearth;
who is the giver?
who is the receiver?
I wonder if  we're all
but mirrors to each other;
dancing, just being,
or whirling around,
a play of wild energy
in this great Cosmic Dance!

By the Backwaters

my eyes
meander along
the shimmering ribbon
of blue, stretched thin;
long, slender fingers
of turquoise backwaters
run in to caress
my wispy mind
that's lost forever
in the velvet green;
buffaloes soak
in the warm sun
wading lazily
through glistening waters;
egrets and cormorants
step daintily
on the water's edge,
to dip their pointed beaks
for a drink or fish;
ducks a-swim
against the tide,
two birds in a tango
as they glide in flight;
silken reeds wave and dance
as the wind sweeps over,
seaweed afloat
as ripples move over;
my eyes drawn to watch
the calm waters forever,
my heart feels full
with no desire.

Wind

when I sit with you
still in mind and body,
you tickle me
until every hair
on my lifeless body
stands on end
to dance, feel
and celebrate
the sheer joy
of being alive!

when I stand with you
as you make your way,
you push on me
until every cell
on my taut being
is aroused
and set afloat
to blaze its trail
and journey on
in this endless cosmos.

when I am with you
I understand what it is
and how it feels
to be nothing
and yet own all,
an atom of stardust
swirling, dancing,
with the wind
beneath my wings,
set a free in the Universe.

Rainbow

I sit amidst
half unpacked memories
to find
my little piece
of heaven
on earth,
in the smell
of cement
from newly bored walls
the air still moist
from the blue yonder,
wets my parched lips
to clean layers of grime
long settled
on my tongue, my skin,
nesting birds
beckon and call
while they come home
to the trees
amidst towers
standing tall,
watching waves
ebb and flow
life goes on
I learn to flow,
and then from behind
wispy clouds that yawn,
I see a rainbow,
my heaven, my home!