Lost

Today, I found it
stuck under the table
next to discarded gum
that had lost its taste.

Yesterday, I found it
in the bottom
of the garbage
stomped on
and stained.

Last week, I found it
abandoned in the attic
cast away
for the next
generation to find.

Last month, I found it
under my bed
swept into a hidden place
out of carelessness.

Last year, I found it
buried in the trunk of my car
placed there with thought
but forgotten over time.

What we long for most,
search for most,
ache for most,
is everywhere present
and fillest all things.

Where will you find
your abandoned Hope today?

The Other Side of Gray

“Gray is the color of Hope.” -Irina Ratushinskaya

 
Ashes from an explosive fire
Discarded, tattered newspapers, left to rot in the streets
Neglected pavement crumbling underneath your feet
Storm clouds threatening to pour upon your head

This is gray, the image of sorrow, the picture of grief.

Gray is the color of murky waters, the unknown,
the realm where nothing is quite defined.

However, like everything examined clearly,
Gray defies expectation
and unveils another side.

Gray is a mixture of black and white.
The first color one sees,
after having hit rock bottom.

Gray is the color of
shackles being removed from a prisoner.

Gray is the color of
having your basic need meets
after losing everything in a catastrophe.

Gray is the color
of an alcoholic choosing to step away from the drink
for yet another day.

Gray is the color of today, a color of the present,
but it is a yearning for tomorrow, for what can be and what will be.

Gray truly is
the color of Hope.

New Dreams

 I am posting an older poem of mine today.  Actually I have the stomach virus today and am very sick. I will try to catch up on all the blogs I check on a regular basis later.

 NEW DREAMS

Pain lies here creeping in so suddenly
like a frigid winter sneaking in with
the slow drifting away of the final,
crisp autumn leaves that once hung so brilliantly.

Tears visit here rolling in like a cloud burst.
First dripping like a broken water faucet
then rapidly pouring down like a monsoon
blowing in anguish and unseen terrors.

But hope resides here and love flourishes here
Melting away the cold winter of pain
drying up the sweltering streams of tears
leaving the door open for new life, new dreams.

It’s This Way

 I recently read a very interesting book. I have always heard about A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, but I never read it.  A few days ago, I was perusing the book sections of a few local thrift stores. I happened upon this book and decided to purchase it. I tore into the book; it was quite fascinating, albeit very depressing.  It’s a Utopian novel with a very negative twist.  It was written in 1932 and prophesized what society would be like 600 years into the future.  The society of which he wrote about was without morals and hope but nobody was unhappy. Ironically, the whole society was structured in a way that made everybody happy. However, to do so, everything had to be controlled.  There were no such things as fathers or mothers and the concept was considered to be an aberration.  All the babies were created in test tubes. From the beginning, all embryos were predestined to be a certain class. They injected or deprived the embryos of certain nutrients depending on what class of people they were predestined to be.  The Epsilons were the lowest class, and the embryos that were predestined to be Epsilons were actually deprived of oxygen to make them more like morons.  Everyone in the society lived off a drug called “soma.”  When something was unpleasant, they just popped a soma.  I could go on and on about the downfalls of the society created in this book. However, the point that I am getting at is that this book was devoid of hope.  There was no redemption. Its purpose was to highlight the horrors that a industrial and commercial based society could produce and just how far things could be taken.

For some reason, I get in these moods in which I read the most depressing things.  The next book on my list to read was the Oscar Wilde novel The Picture of Dorian Gray. I have just begun this book; however, I am going to put this novel down. From what I know about the book, this is also another book that focuses on the horrors inside people but not on redemption.

I yearn for things that include the sense of hope in them. People may say that no such thing exists anymore and that stories with hope are just “cheesy” and “out of date.”  Granted there are stories out there with hope and morals that are fluff and do not address the real issues of today. People are hungry for something that is real but redemptive at the same time. Fairy tales or “Happily Ever After” tales are not what this society needs. They need real people with real tragedies. But at the same time, there has to be an element of redemption. Hope must be visible and attainable.

This need always brings me back to the poet Nazim Hikmet, whom I have mentioned before in a previous post.  Granted I do not agree with the political beliefs of this Turkish poet; he was a communist who was thrown in jail several times for his convictions. Ironically, his poetry was not bitter and angry.  His poetry was full of harsh realities but they always had an element of hope in them. He was a survivor who never gave up. I respect that in him and think that the world needs more of his perseverance and determination.

I would like to share another poem of his that was translated by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk and comes from the book Poems of Nazim Hikmet.  The poem is entitled “It’s This Way.”

It’s This Way

I stand in the advancing light,

my hands hungry, the world beautiful.

My eyes can’t get enough of the trees-

they’re so hopeful, so green.

A sunny road runs through the mulberries,

I’m at the window of the prison infirmary.

I can’t smell the medicines-

carnations must be blooming nearby.

It’s this way:

being captured is beside the point,

the point is not to surrender.

Yes, the world is full of horror. Perhaps someone is imprisoned in reality or in their own mind.  Being captured is not the point.  People should not focus on their imprisonment.  The focus should be on not letting your soul die. It is so easy to give up hope to surrender to our problems and just quite trying. But Hikmet encourages us to not to surrender, to live, to carry on with hope.  For if one doesn’t have hope, they are already dead and there is nothing for which to live.

Hope in the Strangest of Places

Aahh. Insomnia. Can’t sleep and won’t have time to write later today, so I thought I would write something now. (It’s almost 2 AM)

Nazim Hikmet is one of my favorite poets.  He is Turkish and wrote in the 40s, 50s, and 60s.  I am fascinated by his writing because so much of it is filled with a sense of hope.  I find this interesting because he was a communist who spent around 18 years in prison for his beliefs.  Many of his most tenders poems were written while in prison. Who would have thought that hope could come out a jail cell of a communist? It definetely sounds strange and unexpected to me.    Here is one of my favorite poems by him.

SOME ADVICE TO THOSE WHO WILL SERVE TIME IN PRISON

If instead of being hanged by the neck
  you’re thrown inside
  for not giving up hope
in the world, your country, your people,
  if you do ten or fifteen years
  apart from the time you have left,
you won’t say,
      “Better I had swung from the end of a rope
      like a flag” -
You’ll put your foot down and live.
It may not be a pleasure exactly,
but it’s your solemn duty
   to live one more day
to spite the enemy.
Part of you may live alone inside,
     like a stone at the bottom of a well.
But the other part
          must be so caught up
  in the flurry of the world
  that you shiver there inside
      when outside, at forty days’ distance, a leaf moves.
To wait for letters inside,
to sing sad songs,
or to lie awake all night staring at the ceiling
   is sweet but dangerous.
Look at your face from shave to shave,
forget your age,
watch out for lice
      and for spring nights,
     and always remember
to eat every last piece of bread-
also, don’t forget to laugh heartily.
And who knows,
the woman you love may stop loving you.
Don’t say it’s no big thing:
it’s like the snapping of a green branch
      to the man inside.
To think of roses and gardens inside is bad,
to think of seas and mountains is good.
Read and write without rest,
and I also advise weaving
and making mirrors.
I mean, it’s not that you can’t pass
    ten or fifteen years inside
and more -
        you can,
as long as the jewel
on the left side of your chest doesn’t lose it’s luster!

      Nazim Hikmet – May 1949

                    Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)

Wow, this poem takes my breath away!  It is almost hard to put into words what this poem relates to me! I will try to comment on it, but please forgive my inadequacy because I can not do justice to this poem.

First of all, it doesn’t convey a sense of being a victim. He is not whining about the injustice of being put in prison. He just sees it as a part of life for those living out their beliefs (whatever those may be).  Then in a way he expresses a sense of thankfullness for being alive, for not having been killed.  Those in prison should be happy to be alive, thankful that they have this opportunity.

He is almost commanding the people to live (not just exist but live life to its fullest) and not to let the enemy (whomever that may be) have control over your life.   He mentions that even though at times one may feel isolated, they should still be so intuned with the world outside that they are even aware of the movements of nature. To me this is saying that we shouldn’t just focus on oursevles but must realize that life has not stopped because we are not a part of it. We must find a way to experience life when we feel there is nothing to experience.

Hikmet goes on to show that we must not let depression over come us; we must take care of ourselves physically and mentally. This is shown when he mentions that we must eat every last bite of bread and how we must not forget how to laugh. It is also shown when he mentions how we must remain active. There is nothing more deadly to hope than not having something to live for. However, he is not quiet on the fact that there will be major disappointments and that they are significant, but we have to be careful how we react to those disappointments.

His main focus is that survival is possible if we don’t loose hope and his last words about not letting the heart become dull reiterates this.  Spiritual survival is always possible (unfortunately physical survival is not always possible) when one never looses hope. If one looses hope, then their prognosis is not very good. They will just give up on life, but if one has hope than each struggle produces another diamond.

Standing Outside The Fire

  Garth Brooks’ song “Outside the Fire” has always been one of my favorite songs.  And now that I have become Orthodox it has a deeper meaning for me.  It gives me hope and lets me see that my trials are not in vain and that even in the midst of my suffering, God is doing something wonderful. Here are the lyrics to the song.  Please read my commentary on the song after the lyrics.

Standing Outside the Fire 

We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
And risk it the tables being turned

We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That always come with getting burned

But you got to be tough when consumed by desire
‘Cause it’s not enough just to stand outside the fire
We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall

We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all

They’re so hell bent on giving, walking a wire
Convinced it’s not living if you stand outside the fire

Chorus:
Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried it is merely survived
If you’re standing outside the fire

There’s this love that is burning
Deep in my soul
Constantly yearning to get out of control
Wanting to fly higher and higher
I can’t abide standing outside the fire

Repeat Chorus(twice)

Before I became Orthodox I never really saw the purpose of suffering. I saw it as something to be avoided at all costs.  I always saw it as something to just get through and hoped that the light would soon come.  I never saw a benefit to it.  However, Orthodox christians really do have a gospel of suffering.  Suffering is embraced and certain forms of ascetisism are encouraged.  No, we don’t purposely inflict suffering on ourselves, but we know that true spiritual growth cannot come about without the refining fire of the Holy Trinity. 

If I don’t have suffering my life might feel good, but how deep is it?  How can I relate to those around me? It is shallow and a mere shadow of what it is meant to be.  When I talk about suffering, I mean all types of suffering. I don’t just mean suffering for the name of Christ, which of course is one type of suffering and does produce much fruit and growth. I also include in this the suffering that is caused by our own stupidity, rebelliousness, disobedience, and ignorance.  The fires from these sufferings have certainly brought many people, including me, before the Holy throne of the Most High.  I know that if I hadn’t made the mistakes that I made earlier in my life, I wouldn’t be where I am at now. Of course, one would hope that as one matures, these types of sufferings will grow fewer and fewer.

But God also calls us to be a living sacrifice, to not be conformed to this world but to be transformed by the renewing of our minds. (Romans 12:1-2). This means to be constantly throwing ourselves on the flames.  The Orthodox reflect this in their many fasts throughout the liturgical years.  We are contstantly taught to deny our passions ( the Orthodox word meaning the sinful urges that control us such as gluttony, slothfullness, lust of the flesh, etc.).  When we deny our passions we suffer imensely, but our growth is immeasurable.

After I became chrismated in the Orthodox Church on June 25, 2006, the Lord gave me a spiritual sweetness that I needed desparately after all that I had been through. However, it is time for me to be put through the flames again. I feel so restless and weak. I sometimes feel like I am drowning.  But I know that the Lord will be with me through the flames, and I know that “life is not tried, it is merely survived if you are standing outside the fire.”