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Tova Gabrielle

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Popular Poetry (Sept 11, 2001)
  1.  Quiet day, so far...
  2.  A Dedicated Hero



Coping and Other Fantasies
by Tova Gabrielle

Monday, October 07, 2002

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Recent poems by Tova Gabrielle
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•  Saturday Night in Mexico
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           >> View all 120

Coping, or, Survival By Floating

By Tova Gabrielle

Date added ~ 06/10/2002 10:19:52

spurred by events on 9/11

Section ~ Non Fiction - Essay

i. Dream

In 1969 I dreamt of world war three and a mass of people who walked single-mindedly through the debris of bombing without being scathed. They were invisibly protected by some kind of energy that united them.
When I awoke the room was blazing with gold light and I remember saying to myself that unity is the only way we will all survive and that there is no greater power than a group, united for the common good.
[Years later, I remember thinking that the sixties was just a preview of what could and will be, after the millennium, i.e. that love would be in the air once again but without the drugs.]

**************************************************************
ii. A weird omen

On 9/08/01 I flew home from California feeling queezy. Back in my Massachusetts livingroom I turned to my partner in the living room and said glibly but from the gut, "Do you know what yesterday was?" What? "It was the Judgement Day." No, that's Yum Kippur. "No, it was three days ago. I just have this sense that there really is a Judgement Day, and it was yesterday." I don't even know what that means, but if there is a judgement day, it was yesterday.
I kept that little revelation between my partner and myself until a Rabbi explained to me that there certainly had to be a so-called Judgement for any major historical event, good or bad to happen.
He explained that ancient Judaism acknowledges that for every action there is a cause. But, he added, raising a finger, it is up to humans whether or not we act out the judgements [based upon accusations rather than defense of life].


I know that sooner or later, suffering and terror have to give way to love, simply because love was here before all else and it is where we are going, and what we all want.
If we become a nation of enlightened peaceful beings who will hate us? And who can figure out how to fight us where there is no resistance to push against? However, it will take a whole country to successfully walk away from the power struggle called war.
**************************************************************
iii. "Judgment"

I never had used that term, "Judgement Day." I don't like the term. I am not a fundamentalist or anyone who tolerates moralistic language.
I don't believe in Hell, unless this is it: people living in fear for their very survival. And I don't believe in any devil, unless it is found in the people who think they have you pegged, based upon your past failures.
I am not a zealous believer in anything other than what life has shown me. And what it has shown me has been more powerful than anything handed down to me on the plate of traditional religion.

**************************************************************
iv. Suvival by Floating:

I just can't fit the reactive stance into my psyche anymore, it feels like high school. The whole country should take a nap at the same time and have a wet dream of global significance. Drain the guns and we will all be blissfully spent. We will fall into a dream, beneath the violence: like falling in love or falling into water, we will all learn that we do know how to float.
Learning to float, a person must risk sinking. In that moment of risking, however, the body discovers the holding power of water. Water is the closest substance to spirit. Spirit, like water holds us up, but only if we relax.

This is the only way we all will survive: if we realize that even if we die it won 't be the end. In a world where right appears as wrong and wrong appears to be right, this truth is difficult to admit aloud. In this world of opposites, this hall of mirrors, we second doubt out instincts. Yet we have within us both a life instinct and a death one and the death one actually can protects the life one.

The more you control the more you will need to control. Like putting a cover on imminently boiling water, you not only fail to reduce disaster, but create another big mess.
An alternative to the violence of oppression begins with tolerating frustration and the helplessness of not knowing what will happen next, while seeking to release the tensions slowly. I advocate feeling our feelings, if only for a long enough time to allow something amazing to happen; something you couldn't have anticipated. This pause allows communication where there had been none. Yes even with terrorists. Especially with terrorists.
**************************************************************
v: Pressure creates Crystalization:

Over time, while enduring great pressures, things change inherently. Consider, for example, how crystals are formed: a crystal is introduced into earthen material, under great pressure for a very long time. The presence a pattern contained in the crystal causes matter to congeal into a crystal itself.
I call that G-d, but it is a process and not a being. Not the identity that we humans have created to reflect ourselves.
Rather, G-d is like a great sun and life forms are its sparks. As sparks, we re-fuel from the Great Pattern; i.e. we wouldn't continue existing without that sun.
The spark from that sun is the thing at the center of everything.

Because I know this I am no longer afraid of dying. I don't believe that life is capable of ending. Certainly the familiar changes and ends, the things to which we cling too tightly, not that which creates and sustains "flow".
**************************************************************

vi. Considering Daisys

Consider Daises: In the middle of fretting I looked down at one and in that moment, realized why G-d created them. In spite of all my drama, the Daisy's job is simply to sit there and beam. It just sits there and screams it's brightness, joyously, regardless of whether or not we choose to emulate the reality of which it reflects. All of nature is confessing its love; advertising how good it is to be alive. So what the Hell are we doing?
And how good is it to be alive?
When what we are doing to stay alive ceases feeling good, such actions create toxicity to every thing our lives touch vibrationally or otherwise.
Consider the tension of trying to force your will against the nature's rhythms and tides. The tensions within your body block the very life source that feeds your spark. As a result you feel devoid of happiness and love.
How can humans be toxic in service of goodness? Even if we win, our lives will be defined within the suffering we caused; we will not be immune.
*************************************************************

vii: Rather be a "whimp" than a Poison

I just can't identify with the white privileged stance, I'd rather die peacefully or be a daisy

I am not willing to become poison to others in the world, nor to poison their world at any cost, partly because this world is simply not the only one I know of.
I feel sure that there is another reality. And I am sick to death of the culture in which I am living, because it is too harsh. I am casting that dark lover, death, and it's cohort: fear of loss, out of my bed. I find this entitled lens of my country to be relentless, obsessive, cruel… and I never did like him, that machismo super-everything model, a model of life based upon striving for better and more, I never wanted him in the first place.



i. Dream

In 1969 I dreamt of world war three and a mass of people who walked single-mindedly through the debris of bombing without being scathed. They were invisibly protected by some kind of energy that united them.
When I awoke the room was blazing with gold light and I remember saying to myself that unity is the only way we will all survive and that there is no greater power than a group, united for the common good.
[Years later, I remember thinking that the sixties was just a preview of what could and will be, after the millennium, i.e. that love would be in the air once again but without the drugs.]

**************************************************************
ii. A weird omen

On 9/08/01 I flew home from California feeling queezy. Back in my Massachusetts livingroom I turned to my partner in the living room and said glibly but from the gut, "Do you know what yesterday was?" What? "It was the Judgement Day." No, that's Yum Kippur. "No, it was three days ago. I just have this sense that there really is a Judgement Day, and it was yesterday." I don't even know what that means, but if there is a judgement day, it was yesterday.
I kept that little revelation between my partner and myself until a Rabbi explained to me that there certainly had to be a so-called Judgement for any major historical event, good or bad to happen.
He explained that ancient Judaism acknowledges that for every action there is a cause. But, he added, raising a finger, it is up to humans whether or not we act out the judgements [based upon accusations rather than defense of life].


I know that sooner or later, suffering and terror have to give way to love, simply because love was here before all else and it is where we are going, and what we all want.
If we become a nation of enlightened peaceful beings who will hate us? And who can figure out how to fight us where there is no resistance to push against? However, it will take a whole country to successfully walk away from the power struggle called war.
**************************************************************
iii. "Judgment"

I never had used that term, "Judgement Day." I don't like the term. I am not a fundamentalist or anyone who tolerates moralistic language.
I don't believe in Hell, unless this is it: people living in fear for their very survival. And I don't believe in any devil, unless it is found in the people who think they have you pegged, based upon your past failures.
I am not a zealous believer in anything other than what life has shown me. And what it has shown me has been more powerful than anything handed down to me on the plate of traditional religion.

**************************************************************
iv. Suvival by Floating:

I just can't fit the reactive stance into my psyche anymore, it feels like high school. The whole country should take a nap at the same time and have a wet dream of global significance. Drain the guns and we will all be blissfully spent. We will fall into a dream, beneath the violence: like falling in love or falling into water, we will all learn that we do know how to float.
Learning to float, a person must risk sinking. In that moment of risking, however, the body discovers the holding power of water. Water is the closest substance to spirit. Spirit, like water holds us up, but only if we relax.

This is the only way we all will survive: if we realize that even if we die it won 't be the end. In a world where right appears as wrong and wrong appears to be right, this truth is difficult to admit aloud. In this world of opposites, this hall of mirrors, we second doubt out instincts. Yet we have within us both a life instinct and a death one and the death one actually can protects the life one.

The more you control the more you will need to control. Like putting a cover on imminently boiling water, you not only fail to reduce disaster, but create another big mess.
An alternative to the violence of oppression begins with tolerating frustration and the helplessness of not knowing what will happen next, while seeking to release the tensions slowly. I advocate feeling our feelings, if only for a long enough time to allow something amazing to happen; something you couldn't have anticipated. This pause allows communication where there had been none. Yes even with terrorists. Especially with terrorists.
**************************************************************
v: Pressure creates Crystalization:

Over time, while enduring great pressures, things change inherently. Consider, for example, how crystals are formed: a crystal is introduced into earthen material, under great pressure for a very long time. The presence a pattern contained in the crystal causes matter to congeal into a crystal itself.
I call that G-d, but it is a process and not a being. Not the identity that we humans have created to reflect ourselves.
Rather, G-d is like a great sun and life forms are its sparks. As sparks, we re-fuel from the Great Pattern; i.e. we wouldn't continue existing without that sun.
The spark from that sun is the thing at the center of everything.

Because I know this I am no longer afraid of dying. I don't believe that life is capable of ending. Certainly the familiar changes and ends, the things to which we cling too tightly, not that which creates and sustains "flow".
**********************************************

vi. Considering Daisys

Consider Daises: In the middle of fretting I looked down at one and in that moment, realized why G-d created them. In spite of all my drama, the Daisy's job is simply to sit there and beam. It just sits there and screams it's brightness, joyously, regardless of whether or not we choose to emulate the reality of which it reflects. All of nature is confessing its love; advertising how good it is to be alive. So what the Hell are we doing?
And how good is it to be alive?
When what we are doing to stay alive ceases feeling good, such actions create toxicity to every thing our lives touch vibrationally or otherwise.
Consider the tension of trying to force your will against the nature's rhythms and tides. The tensions within your body block the very life source that feeds your spark. As a result you feel devoid of happiness and love.
How can humans be toxic in service of goodness? Even if we win, our lives will be defined within the suffering we caused; we will not be immune.
*************************************************************

vii: Rather be a "whimp" than a Poison

I just can't identify with the white privileged stance, I'd rather die peacefully or be a daisy

I am not willing to become poison to others in the world, nor to poison their world at any cost, partly because this world is simply not the only one I know of.
I feel sure that there is another reality. And I am sick to death of the culture in which I am living, because it is too harsh. I am casting that dark lover, death, and it's cohort: fear of loss, out of my bed. I find this entitled lens of my country to be relentless, obsessive, cruel… and I never did like him, that machismo super-everything model, a model of life based upon striving for better and more, I never wanted him in the first place.

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Reviewed by Janet Caldwell 2/4/2003
vii was one of my favs, I do wish that we were all more like this article. Myself included. Such wisdom my friend.

Love, JC xoxoxo
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