Landscapes of the Transforming Soul

 I’m on a path of transformation as I’m sure you are. How can we not be? Life is a continual process of transformation, journeying into the unknown. Only the mind attempts to solidify passing states into a reality we can know and understand and cling onto. The growing edge is learning how to live in the unknown and ride the waves of transformation.

I’m experiencing an intense part of my journey just now because in the last 7 months I have lost two of the people closest to me – my dearest soul friend, Woods, died on the last Winter Solstice and my brother, David died in June this year. They were both part of the apparent solidity of my world; even though they were often thousands of miles from me they gave my world stability and gave me a sense of being held.

The death of loved ones is an uncomfortable time and yet very rich and full of possibility. For me it is a time of spiritual opening and nothing is more important than sucking the nectar from this unexpected flower. With my friend and brother gone a vast and unknown space has opened up and I am feeling my way into this new reality. These poems are my attempt to give voice to the subtle and not so subtle inner psycho-spiritual states I am experiencing. Through writing I create a space of presence that holds me as I focus inward. I am putting them on my blog as a way of reaching out to those of you who may be experiencing something similar. I know all our experiences are very unique and yet we are in a collective process of awakening and similar waves of energy affect and impulse us. What excites me and gives my life purpose is finding a common language for our unfolding experience.

When I want something to read I am always looking for someone who can reflect back my experiences, reassuring me I am not alone or crazy and taking me just a little bit further in my understanding. This gives me a more solid ground to stand on as I can take my next step.  If my poems touch you and connect with you then they have fulfilled their purpose.

Namaste,

Rose Diamond

 

1:  Let Go

 

On a wave

rise up and see the view

everything looks friendly and smells of fresh air

 

then, tip over the edge and slide

down the other side,  lost in the mist

plunge deeper into green sheer ocean

fighting for life

and at the same time surrendering.

 

 

How is it possible to fight and surrender at the same time?

What is being fought? What is being surrendered to?

 

self is being obliterated

stripped apart bit by bit

until there is nothing left to hold onto

no one left to receive projections.

The act of dissolving into no-thingness

is not as terrifying as the thought

but it is very intense

this living on the edge of life and death.

 

 

I am not a nice person

there is something raw in me

I want to rub away

but the rawness holds a power

that is burning off the old chrysalis

and whatever is tucked into the unfolding layer cannot be controlled.

 

There is nothing to hold onto except this moment

everything else is fiction.

 

Have you ever tried to hold onto a moment?

The best you can do is merge into it, inhabit it,

walk around in it, become the moment

with the fullness and intensity of a child.

That way you don’t waste a single drop

you experience yourself

and know who you are.

Even though you may not like the experience

there is no escaping the raw energy charging through you.

 

 

The time for repressing, suppressing and controlling is over

everything must be released and allowed to breathe

let go every stored up hurt, resentment, judgment, fear and habit

set it free to evaporate in the mist.

Become a dynamic sky

through which the universe is playing

and play hard – life depends upon it.

 

 

 

 

2:  The Great Re-Cycling

 

 

confined in a small space without an exit

suspended in a sleepy hammock with no choice

a lazy soporific drug has been poured into the brain

simple words refuse to make themselves known

mind is full of holes and the darkness of space

nothing connects; reality is flattened and reduced

everything collapses into the self

there are no other possibilities than this.

 

At times a pulse pushes against the constricting skin

refusing the downward pull of entropy

a demonic thwarted power roars its outrage at this confinement

yet is stripped of will and volition, unable to act

as everything collapses into the self.

 

self is destructing,

its frozen faces locked in habit

appear like taunting ghouls in a hallucinogenic dream

demanding attention, love and friendship,

insisting on being seen

then melt like icebergs on a doomed planet

back into the ocean, evaporating into the clouds.

 

And yet amidst this disappearing act

something watches, something knows

something strong and unbreakable

something soft, yielding and fluent

something ancient holding hands with something new.