11:34

27. On Death, The Prophet By Kahlil Gibran

by dharman

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talks
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Meditation
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"And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?" “The Prophet,” a collection of twenty-six prose poems, delivered as sermons by a fictional wise man in a faraway time and place. First published in 1923, it is full of timeless wisdom. I've separated each poem in order to practice Deep Listening for the wisdom in each verse. Trigger Warning: This practice may include references to death, dying, and the departed.

DeathThe ProphetKhalil GibranWisdomDeep ListeningFearYogaNon DualityImpermanencePoetryLife And DeathAcceptanceEgoBhagavad GitaUpanishadsPranaTypes Of FearYoga SutrasKahlil Gibran ReadingsSpiritual GrowthLife And Death UnityEgo DissolutionSpirits

Transcript

Greetings,

Many blessings.

As we near the conclusion,

Nearing the end,

We recall we began with the thought of love.

Let's be fitting as a bookend,

This final segment before departure,

The prophet speaks of death.

To find your comfortable seat.

Know in this moment you are alive.

Feel the energy in each cycle of breath.

The Yoga Sutras tell us of the five causes of suffering.

We've spoken of these in previous segments.

The first,

Ignorance of our true nature.

Ignorance of the non-duality.

Ignorance of our unity.

It's the ego that creates these walls,

These boundaries of definitions,

Words,

And thoughts.

Our past.

Perceptions and misperceptions.

We become attached and we avoid playing the same narrative over and over again.

Coming to the final cause of suffering,

This fear of impermanence.

It's this fear,

Out of this fear,

That we choose to repeat the story as though our story will live on and on and on as long as the record continues to play over,

Over,

And over again.

There's a fear within us of pausing or changing that story.

That impermanence,

In its ultimate,

Is the impermanence of our physical bodies.

The fear of death.

Perhaps the Prophet can embolden us,

Give us some courage,

Knowing that we die every day.

Every time the story we tell ourselves repeats over and over again,

We're in fact murdering the future,

The potential,

Our pure self from growing.

If we can become accustomed to that,

Perhaps we could be accustomed to the opposite,

To pausing the story,

Allowing for true organic growth,

Growing from center,

Growing from our true self,

Unbounded by ego's frailty,

Unbounded by fear.

Approach each day,

Each moment,

With this excitement for life.

One of the three great sonarai poets,

Takahashi Deishu,

Penned this poem that speaks volumes the more I explore the depths of yoga,

The philosophies and the lifestyle.

The same sentiment is carried in the Bhagavad Gita,

The Yoga Sutras,

The Upanishads,

Even here by the Prophet.

He shared,

Had I not been born,

I need not die.

Since I've been born to die,

I will.

The meaning of this poem has changed,

My interpretation rather has changed over the years and carried perhaps a more somber acceptance in my youth.

As I grow older,

Carries a more optimistic message,

More so about the choice and that choice is life.

So let's find a comfortable seat and hear the words of the Prophet.

Then Almitra spoke,

Saying,

We would ask now of death,

And he said,

You would know the secret of death,

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death upon your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one,

Even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond.

And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow,

Your heart dreams of spring.

Trust the dreams,

For in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling?

That he shall wear the mark of the king,

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die,

But to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing,

But to free the breath from its restless tides?

That it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountaintop,

Then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs,

Then shall you truly dance.

Let's choose to dance with every waking moment,

With every dream,

Like the seed buried beneath the snow,

Dreaming the blossoms.

Open the shell,

Let loose the boundaries.

Your true self is that seed,

And its nature is to grow,

And its nature is also to let loose its leaves,

Give way the blossom.

Is this not life?

The manifestation of this magical mystery of source.

Have faith,

Dear one.

Just as the soil,

The water,

Even the snow nourishes that seed,

The souls,

The prana,

The energy of those who have gone before nourishes us.

And the soil,

The earth,

The sun is as much as life,

As that seed within us,

That thing that's real exists in us all.

So it'll be as we give up our last breath in our physical bodies,

Releasing that energy for those we leave behind.

And since it is a choice,

I will.

I will with all my love,

With all my gratitude,

Namaste.

Meet your Teacher

dharmanIndianapolis, IN, USA

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