I hope you are well. Winter is upon us (at least here in the northern hemisphere), and it’s a time to retreat, to move away from doing and into being. To help you with this, I thought I would send you three poetic reflections on the theme of presence. The third one (‘The Presence’) based on a powerful experience I had many years ago, when I was in my mid-twenties and was living a hedonistic life as a musician, and was very
discontented, feeling as if I had lost contact with my true self. It was one Sunday afternoon, when we were visiting my girlfriend’s parents, and I took their dog for a walk in the fields. I was hungover, tired and depressed - and suddenly something shifted, and I had the experience described in the poem. I’m preparing a new book of poems at the moment, so let me know what you think! I may include these three.
The Clear Light of the Present
There is nothing that can’t be undone -
no past injury that can’t be healed
no past mistake that can’t be corrected -
in the clear light of the present.
Every past action that arose from spite or ignorance
can be redeemed by wisdom and kindness
in the clear light of the present.
Painful memories of suffering will evaporate
like patches of fallen rain
in the clear light of the present.
And even deep imprints of trauma
will safely uncover themselves, so that they can be healed
in the clear light of the present.
Conflicts that have exhausted us
and grudges that have poisoned us
for lifetime after lifetime
can be flushed away in an instant
of pure compassion and forgiveness
in the clear light of the present.
There’s no need to be shadowed by the past
when we always live, and are always free,
in the clear light of the present.
The Two Worlds
Every moment you have a choice
to be absent or to be present
to be elsewhere or to be here.
Elsewhere is the place where doubt and regret live -
a dull grey netherworld,
full of the ghosts of past events
and shadows of the future.
Elsewhere is the place where fear thrives -
an endless open plain, full of risks and threats
where you’re always exposed, like an animal
that’s hunted by a thousand different predators.
Elsewhere is the place where desires grow -
a desert full of mirages
that tempt you with ambitions that can't fulfil you
and pleasures that can't satisfy you
and in the end you’re left gasping and panting
with a thirst that can't be quenched.
But here is a bright spring morning
where the whole world stands pristine and clear
and each moment is sufficient to itself
and there is nothing that lives or grows
apart from what is, and was meant to be.
Here is a beautiful landscape
of translucent light and infinite space
and deep rich colours and perfect forms
and endless intricate details -
a masterpiece that is freshly painted every moment.
Here there is no lack, only the wholeness of what is now.
Here there is no doubt, only the certainty of now.
Here there is no complexity, only the simple truth of now.
So why choose absence, when you can be present?
Why be elsewhere when you can be here?
The Presence
No matter how disconnected you’ve become,
no matter how much you’ve mistreated your body or abused your soul,
the presence will never leave you.
She’ll always be right by your side
waiting with infinite patience
for the right moment to reveal herself again.
No matter how long you’ve ignored her,
even if you’ve neglected her - and yourself - so much
that you can hardly remember what she looks or feels like,
she won’t carry any grudges against you;
she won’t hide from you, or punish you.
And one day, when you’re walking along
with your head bowed in despair
the presence will suddenly step forward and embrace you
like an invisible cloud that immerses you
and fills you with alert aliveness.
You’ll look up and see a transfigured sky,
open to endless dimensions, filled with sentient space
and sunlight that glows with benevolence.
And around you, the landscape will shimmer gloriously
with the ageless timeless freshness of presence.
And straight away you’ll relax
and be filled with reassurance.
You’ll feel at home again, as if you’d never left the presence,
knowing that you never really did
and that you never can.
All best wishes and blessings, Steve
