― Leonard Cohen
If anyone knows me- I just adore Leonard Cohen, and his lyrics. To me he is really a poet, much like Dylan who can actually express that which one is feeling, be that politically correct or not. Generally life, though we are all different life does have very similar themes. The very first thing that I ever leart about Buddhism when I was in Thailand many years ago were the basic tenants expressed by a tour guide-that being in his words; “you born, you live, you sick, you die”. Not an uplifting though if one views it from the human perspective really-if one does not have some sort of faith, it is rather dismal and pointless. Probably this is the reason why so many are seeking for some answers, some give up in despair.
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.”
So, a few have been gifted ”with a golden tongue “as Cohen puts it- or some with “a golden quill”. Who make us think deeper about life and its consequences. Sometimes I think that people who seem to dismiss such thoughts, who strictly live emerged in their humanity devoid of any deeper introspection are very lucky. Searching and facing one`s soul is not an easy exercise-for the answers are often very vague and at times non-existent.
“I have tried in my way to be free.”
Thus, for me people like Cohen attest to our humanity-with simple words and terms that one can relate to. Many seek answers in complex philosophical theories-maybe for some that is the route – a more complex explanation makes more sense and they can relate to it more easily.
“The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again”
I-well I am a simple soul-and I like easy explanations that resonate with me; true I have been on some complex roads and even convoluted ones-but they served me no better than often the words of a modern day balladeer whose words are spoken straight from the heart. I have read some "heavy" thoughts from some the great philosophers and theologians-I was still bereft of answers. Thus, I have a good while back have left them behind, or perhaps they have left me behind. From the experience I have distilled one fact-deep, complex explanations are none the truer than the simple ones.
“I dreamt about you baby.
It was just the other night.
Most of you was naked
Ah, but some of you was light.”
I have a saying-“A peasant woman in the Andes does not know less than the pope in the Vatican regarding God. The pope may have read more writing from the father`s of the church, great theologians and philosophers-but the bottom line is that none of us have met God. Not even the visionaries nor saints-for we really do not know the truth".
“Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah"
So having come full circle through the years-not that I have studied some of the “great ones” in great depth, only superficially -but I still know nothing. I feel I am still spiritually bankrupt in many ways. So-these days I take my ideas about life, living and taking cues from the balladeers of modern times.
“ If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will “
Words are very powerful, even the smallest-it can break barriers, build walls and uplift and destroy the human heart....and words, they go on for all eternity.
LOVE ITSELF WAS GONE
The light came through the window,
Straight from the sun above,
And so inside my little room
There plunged the rays of Love.
In streams of light I clearly saw
The dust you seldom see,
Out of which the Nameless makes
A Name for one like me.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love Itself
Love Itself was gone.
All busy in the sunlight
The flecks did float and dance,
And I was tumbled up with them
In formless circumstance.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love Itself
Love Itself was gone.
Then I came back from where I’d been.
My room, it looked the same –
But there was nothing left between
The Nameless and the Name.
All busy in the sunlight
The flecks did float and dance,
And I was tumbled up with them
In formless circumstance.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love itself,
Love Itself was gone.
Love Itself was gone.
Straight from the sun above,
And so inside my little room
There plunged the rays of Love.
In streams of light I clearly saw
The dust you seldom see,
Out of which the Nameless makes
A Name for one like me.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love Itself
Love Itself was gone.
All busy in the sunlight
The flecks did float and dance,
And I was tumbled up with them
In formless circumstance.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love Itself
Love Itself was gone.
Then I came back from where I’d been.
My room, it looked the same –
But there was nothing left between
The Nameless and the Name.
All busy in the sunlight
The flecks did float and dance,
And I was tumbled up with them
In formless circumstance.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love itself,
Love Itself was gone.
Love Itself was gone.
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