The Yoga of The Prophet: The Coming of the Ship
30/06/08 18:13
The Coming of the Ship
Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn onto his own day, had waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth.
And in the twelfth year, on the seventh day of Ielool, the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld the ship coming with the mist.
Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul.
But he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him, and he thought in his heart: How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.
Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.
Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst.
Yet I cannot tarry longer.
The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark.
For to stay, though the hours burn in the night, is to freeze and crystallize and be bound in a mould.
A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that give it wings. Alone must it seek the ether.
And alone and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun.
Now when he reached the foot of the hill, he turned again towards the sea, and he saw his ship approaching the harbour, and upon her prow the mariners, the men of his own land.
And his soul cried out to them, and he said:
Sons of my ancient mother, you riders of the tides, How often have you sailed in my dreams. And now you come in my awakening, which is my deeper dream.
Ready am I to go, and my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind.
Then I shall stand among you, a seafarer among seafarers.
Who alone are peace and freedom to the river and the stream,
Only another winding will this stream make, only another murmur in this glade,
And then shall I come to you, a boundless drop to a boundless ocean.
And as he walked he saw from afar men and women leaving their fields and their vineyards and hastening towards the city gates.
And he heard their voices calling his name, and shouting from the field to field telling one another of the coming of the ship.
And he said to himself:
Shall the day of parting be the day of gathering?
And shall it be said that my eve was in truth my dawn?
And what shall I give unto him who has left his plough in midfurrow, or to him who has stopped the wheel of his winepress?
Shall my heart become a tree heavy-laden with fruit that I may gather and give unto them?
And shall my desires flow like a fountain that I may fill their cups?
Am I a harp that the hand of the mighty may touch me, or a flute that his breath may pass through me?
A seeker of silences am I, and what treasure have I found in silences that I may dispense with confidence?
If this is my day of harvest, in what fields have I sowed the seed, and in what unrembered seasons?
If this indeed be the our in which I lift up my lantern, it is not my flame that shall burn therein.
Empty and dark shall I raise my lantern,
And the guardian of the night shall fill it with oil and he shall light it also.
These things he said in words. But much in his heart remained unsaid. For he himself could not speak his deeper secret.
And when he entered into the city all the people came to meet him, and they were crying out to him as with one voice.
And the elders of the city stood forth and said:
Go not yet away from us.
A noontide have you been in our twilight, and your youth has given us dreams to dream.
No stranger are you among us, nor a guest, but our son and our dearly beloved.
Suffer not yet our eyes to hunger for your face.
And the priests and the priestesses said unto him:
Let not the waves of the sea separate us now, and the years you have spent in our midst become a memory.
You have walked among us a spirit, and your shadow has been a light upon our facs.
Much have we loved you. But speechless was our love, and with veils has it been veiled.
Yet now it cries aloud unto you, and would stand revealed before you.
And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
And others came also and entreated him.
But he answered them not. He only bent his head; and those who stood near saw his tears falling upon his breast.
And he and the people proceeded towards the great square before the temple.
And there came out of the sanctuary a woman whose name was Almitra. And she was a seeress.
And he looked upon her with exceeding tenderness, for it was she who had first sought and believed in him when he had been but a day in their city.
And she hailed him, saying:
Prophet of God, in quest for the uttermost, long have you searched the distances for your ship.
And now your ship has come, and you must needs go.
Deep is your longing for the land of your memories and the dwelling place of your greater desires; and our love would not bind you nor our needs hold you.
Yet this we ask ere you leave us, that you speak to us and give us of your truth.
And we will give it unto our children, and they unto their children, and it shall not perish.
In your aloneness you have watched with our days, and in your wakefulness you have listened to the weeping and the laughter of our sleep.
Now therefore disclose us to ourselves, and tell us all that has been shown you of that which is between birth and death.
And he answered,
People of Orphalese, of what can I speak save of that which is even now moving your souls?
(The words for this were taken from a website which had previously published the entire work. I am reproducing it here in the spirit of Fair Use. Kindly email me if this creates a problem for you. )
Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn onto his own day, had waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth.
- Like Almustafa here or Swami Sivananda, all those who are enlighted can be considered a sun in this world, providing a dawn of light where there is darkness, which the word ‘guru’ itself literally means- ‘remover of darkness’.
- The ‘twelve years’ he waited in the city is normally the time spent with the guru in India in the gurukula system learning about yoga and spiritual life.
- The gurukula is the beginning of learning spiritual life, and it’s considered without a guru, one cannot begin spiritual life, except for those few like Swami Sivananda, Jesus and the many other remarkable saints and sages throughout time.
- ‘His ship’ and ‘the isle of his birth’ can be considered two ways: 1) to be in fact his own physical death, the “leaving the body” as it’s said about those high souls who can do such a thing. And, 2) Even without physical death, but rather in Self-realization- which Almustafa is on the cusp of now, at the start of this book- one leaves behind one’s previous conceptions of the way to world appears and see everything as God. In so doing, one could say that one is shifting the identification of the mind on a constant basis to the “atman” or the immortal sould, which is said and believed to be the core of our True Self, which is in fact one with, according to Adi Shankara, the all-pervading substratum of all reality, or Brahman.
And in the twelfth year, on the seventh day of Ielool, the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld the ship coming with the mist.
- Again, the twelve years are now the amount of time he’s spent sowing the seeds and doing the internal work toward enlightenment, and the month of September (Ielool) is the month of reaping the fruits, the shifting, of one’s mind toward God in it’s identification.
- Using September as the month is also a way of alluding in a natural way, according to Gibran’s natural philosphical tone- one which is shared by the yogic philosophy- of the seasons of life. Birth comes just before springtime bursts, then spring so full of life, and the summer in which one lives fully with long days, and for the enlightened, then the harvest has come at last. Astrologically, this is represented often by moving into the Ketu dasha, or time period.
- This is a nice way of showing the way in which enlightenment is said to come, as though one has come over the walls of his own mind (the city of Orphalese, with it’s bustle of people, i.e thoughts) from the mist of mystery, which is only broken by meditation, according to Swami Sivananda. He also comments that meditation is a mysterious ladder to this misty understanding.
Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul.
- Of course, being a meditator, he would again meditate upon this shift, having realized it. This is confirmed later by: “a seeker of silences am I and what treasure have I found in silences, that I may dispense with confidence?”
But he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him, and he thought in his heart: How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.
Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.
Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst.
- Now we see the remnants of attachment, so often talked about in spiritual circles as the thing which is most difficult to cast off us, that still remains with him, even with his brief enlightened state. It’s said to be this way for all of us, we go through stages of understanding, and Almustafa in this case is standing right on the brink of the largest shift of all, and yet he still feels the pull of attachment.
- He is here remarking, in a beautifully lyrical way, about the choice which encompasses all spiritual effort. I read and cried to this very verse many many times in my difficulties during my spiritual training and understandings. One chooses to tear the skin of the ego and it’s attachments with one’s own hands. Only he can do this for himself, and it is the same with us.
- Yoga is largely about the attenuation of the ego, and so even with a teacher, one must remain centered in the idea that the teacher is encouraging you to tear off your own skin with your own hands. Often, it feels as though they are doing it, without your consent, however!
Yet I cannot tarry longer.
The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark.
For to stay, though the hours burn in the night, is to freeze and crystallize and be bound in a mould.
- In a sense, being in the body is to be bound in a mould of flesh, blood, and bone. Even the particular structures and ways of seeing things with our type of mind and life experience can be thought of as a mold from which one must rise above. Paramahansa Yogananda has a chapter in his book “Autobiography of a Yogi” which is called “Outiwtting the Stars”, and this is even more remarkable since Yogananda’s guru was a very famous Vedic Astrologer as well as a Swami. Since we are talking about Self-Realization here, it’s clear that this is very understood by Gibran here.
A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that give it wings. Alone must it seek the ether.
And alone and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun.
- In this verse, he answers himself- as only one who has examined the nature of his own mind so closely can do, the attachments he still recognizes within.
- One might also say this about children, and what an elegant way of releasing one’s own body and mind attachments for the greater ‘sea’ awaiting him!
Now when he reached the foot of the hill, he turned again towards the sea, and he saw his ship approaching the harbour, and upon her prow the mariners, the men of his own land.
And his soul cried out to them, and he said:
Sons of my ancient mother, you riders of the tides, How often have you sailed in my dreams. And now you come in my awakening, which is my deeper dream.
- I always think of this verse as being related thematically to the one in “On Work” where he says: “...and to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching. Work is love made visible.”
- My reasoning is that this harkens the mind to a forgotten time when our elders and those who died for us, and before us, back genetically many many generations were revered. It is simply not the case in our modern society where we worship little but the young, and seek to forever be young. This is to set ourselves against the duality in which we are trapped, and to allow us to be blind in yet another important way to the reality that is around us, yet is also to be transcended.
- A good quote I know on this topic comes to me from the song “Cheyenne” by John Arch, where he samples a quote from Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Native American Tribe: “I have heard talk and talk but nothing is done. Good words do not last long unless they amount to something. Words do not pay for my dead people. They do not pay for my country now overrun by white men. They do not protect my father's grave. They do not pay for my horses and cattle. Good words do not give me back my children. Good words will not give my people a home where they can live in peace and take care of themselves. I am tired of talk that comes to nothing. It makes my heart sick when I remember all the good words and all the broken promises.”
- While the above quote is sad, it shows the priorities faced by natural cultures out of which has grown a natural philosophy untouched by “organizations” in the Western model of religion, i.e. a respect for one’s elders, even their burial grounds and so on. Still, one can see the influence of the English society in speakng about payment, which wasn’t something known to Native American cultures previously. How can one own something far greater than oneself, or even their tribe?
- The statement: “And now you come in my awakening, which is my deeper dream.” is an allusion to an upcoming section “for he himself could not speak his deeper secret”, which is a reference to the unspeakable silence itself in which he has immersed himself, impossible to describe, but also showing his awareness of the threshold upon which he stands now, which is the dawning of Self-Realization.
- Even Einstein, as a scientist, can recognize the importance of this: “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science.”
Ready am I to go, and my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind.
Then I shall stand among you, a seafarer among seafarers.
Who alone are peace and freedom to the river and the stream,
Only another winding will this stream make, only another murmur in this glade,
And then shall I come to you, a boundless drop to a boundless ocean.
And as he walked he saw from afar men and women leaving their fields and their vineyards and hastening towards the city gates.
And he heard their voices calling his name, and shouting from the field to field telling one another of the coming of the ship.
And he said to himself:
Shall the day of parting be the day of gathering?
And shall it be said that my eve was in truth my dawn?
And what shall I give unto him who has left his plough in midfurrow, or to him who has stopped the wheel of his winepress?
Shall my heart become a tree heavy-laden with fruit that I may gather and give unto them?
And shall my desires flow like a fountain that I may fill their cups?
Am I a harp that the hand of the mighty may touch me, or a flute that his breath may pass through me?
A seeker of silences am I, and what treasure have I found in silences that I may dispense with confidence?
If this is my day of harvest, in what fields have I sowed the seed, and in what unrembered seasons?
If this indeed be the our in which I lift up my lantern, it is not my flame that shall burn therein.
Empty and dark shall I raise my lantern,
And the guardian of the night shall fill it with oil and he shall light it also.
These things he said in words. But much in his heart remained unsaid. For he himself could not speak his deeper secret.
And when he entered into the city all the people came to meet him, and they were crying out to him as with one voice.
And the elders of the city stood forth and said:
Go not yet away from us.
A noontide have you been in our twilight, and your youth has given us dreams to dream.
No stranger are you among us, nor a guest, but our son and our dearly beloved.
Suffer not yet our eyes to hunger for your face.
And the priests and the priestesses said unto him:
Let not the waves of the sea separate us now, and the years you have spent in our midst become a memory.
You have walked among us a spirit, and your shadow has been a light upon our facs.
Much have we loved you. But speechless was our love, and with veils has it been veiled.
Yet now it cries aloud unto you, and would stand revealed before you.
And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
And others came also and entreated him.
But he answered them not. He only bent his head; and those who stood near saw his tears falling upon his breast.
And he and the people proceeded towards the great square before the temple.
And there came out of the sanctuary a woman whose name was Almitra. And she was a seeress.
And he looked upon her with exceeding tenderness, for it was she who had first sought and believed in him when he had been but a day in their city.
And she hailed him, saying:
Prophet of God, in quest for the uttermost, long have you searched the distances for your ship.
And now your ship has come, and you must needs go.
Deep is your longing for the land of your memories and the dwelling place of your greater desires; and our love would not bind you nor our needs hold you.
Yet this we ask ere you leave us, that you speak to us and give us of your truth.
And we will give it unto our children, and they unto their children, and it shall not perish.
In your aloneness you have watched with our days, and in your wakefulness you have listened to the weeping and the laughter of our sleep.
Now therefore disclose us to ourselves, and tell us all that has been shown you of that which is between birth and death.
And he answered,
People of Orphalese, of what can I speak save of that which is even now moving your souls?
(The words for this were taken from a website which had previously published the entire work. I am reproducing it here in the spirit of Fair Use. Kindly email me if this creates a problem for you. )
INTRO: The Yoga of "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran
30/06/08 17:24
This article
is the first of a series of articles planned about
classic works of literature and poetry; how the
practice of classical yoga explains the fundamental
human experience in relationship to how we can
further our spiritual growth, recognize patterns that
have existed in the minds of all humans throughout
time, not just in India. It is the hope that by
explaining works like The Lord of the Rings, The
Matrix, Battlestar Galactica and others, I can
highlight the underlying patterns prevalent and
hopefully make Classical Yoga easier to understand
and relate to.
In this edition: The Prophet.
This series of article posts focus on “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran and it’s relationship to the practice of real Classical Yoga. In successive posts, I will draw parallels between this classic work and the classical yogic practices, and link to some further explanations of how those work as well.
My focus here in the introduction is to talk about my experiences in learning this monumental and well-known and -loved work.
I recommend you purchase the cd version of this work in order to really understand what I am talking about from Amazon.com.
An excellent lecture on the work is also available here by Bhagawan Shree Rajneesh,later to be known as Osho, in XML. His comments I am sure will be more enlightening than mine.
Note: this link’s text is hard to read in my web browser, but it might be just me. Click here for the cleaner, but much, much shorter HTML version.
NOTE: I will put in the complete work from the book, bullet point the parts which are my comments, and italicize the parts that are in the music.
How I Came To Spiritual Life- Through the Eyes of Almustafa, The Chosen and the Beloved
When I was 10 years old, my mother one day walked into my room and handed me a vinyl record with a spooky and serious looking man on the front cover surrounded by a yellowed-parchment colored background.
She said “I think you’ll like it” and left. Little did I know that in the subsequent few years, this small interaction (and so MANY repeated listens) would forever change the face of my understanding of the world, spirituality in general, and my future yoga experience waiting for me 20 years later.
Throughout my time spent living (from August 2005 to January 2008) at the Sivananda Ashram Yoga Farm, part of the worldwide International Sivananda Yoga Vedanta Centres, the Teacher Training Course there, and all of my subsequent research into Classical Yoga, I have been gradually relying on this musical rendition of the book for my sense of correctness of spirituality and using it as a sort of ‘Oracle’ toward making decisions in life and learning.
Richard Harris (the original Dumbledore in the first Harry Potter film, by the way), I have heard, had a personal mission to turn this classic book (I didn’t know it was a book until I was 30) into a musical work. He enlisted the legendary Arif Mardin (who died on June 25, 2006) to produce this work with him. Tony Levin, in one of his first professional gigs, was playing bass guitar.
I emailed Tony Levin years ago asking why there was no cd version of the record I had long since worn out (but still carried from move to move, the album cover). Very soon after this, my mom sent me the cd version, re-awakening my delight and reminded me that I had memorized the entire musical version as a child. To this day, I can still hear
Richard Harris reputedly had to personally track down more than 90 of the heirs to the legacy of Kahlil Gibran throughout the world, and get them ALL to unanimously authorize such a musical rendition of the book. He did so, and the world is a better place for it. I am very saddened that I will never get now to thank personally either Arif Mardin or Richard Harris himself for the gift they gave me in my life. I have, however, thanked my mother numerous times!
Like 2112 by Rush before it (in my discovery), it has a sweeping and epic flavor to it, although both works are markedly different in philosophy. Mostly spoken word, this Irish Elizabethan-trained actor’s inflections and dramatic flair added so much to my pre-teen life that I wasn’t able to fully appreciate until I began studying Classical Yoga as taught in the Saraswati lineage from Swami Sivananda and his disciples.
I have since branched out to understand Classical Yoga as a immense, indeed the largest, body of spiritual work available to mankind, but it is largely summarized by ‘The Prophet’ in Kahlil Gibran’s poetic words. To this end, we proceed...
In this edition: The Prophet.
This series of article posts focus on “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran and it’s relationship to the practice of real Classical Yoga. In successive posts, I will draw parallels between this classic work and the classical yogic practices, and link to some further explanations of how those work as well.
My focus here in the introduction is to talk about my experiences in learning this monumental and well-known and -loved work.
I recommend you purchase the cd version of this work in order to really understand what I am talking about from Amazon.com.
An excellent lecture on the work is also available here by Bhagawan Shree Rajneesh,later to be known as Osho, in XML. His comments I am sure will be more enlightening than mine.
Note: this link’s text is hard to read in my web browser, but it might be just me. Click here for the cleaner, but much, much shorter HTML version.
NOTE: I will put in the complete work from the book, bullet point the parts which are my comments, and italicize the parts that are in the music.
How I Came To Spiritual Life- Through the Eyes of Almustafa, The Chosen and the Beloved
When I was 10 years old, my mother one day walked into my room and handed me a vinyl record with a spooky and serious looking man on the front cover surrounded by a yellowed-parchment colored background.
She said “I think you’ll like it” and left. Little did I know that in the subsequent few years, this small interaction (and so MANY repeated listens) would forever change the face of my understanding of the world, spirituality in general, and my future yoga experience waiting for me 20 years later.
Throughout my time spent living (from August 2005 to January 2008) at the Sivananda Ashram Yoga Farm, part of the worldwide International Sivananda Yoga Vedanta Centres, the Teacher Training Course there, and all of my subsequent research into Classical Yoga, I have been gradually relying on this musical rendition of the book for my sense of correctness of spirituality and using it as a sort of ‘Oracle’ toward making decisions in life and learning.
Richard Harris (the original Dumbledore in the first Harry Potter film, by the way), I have heard, had a personal mission to turn this classic book (I didn’t know it was a book until I was 30) into a musical work. He enlisted the legendary Arif Mardin (who died on June 25, 2006) to produce this work with him. Tony Levin, in one of his first professional gigs, was playing bass guitar.
I emailed Tony Levin years ago asking why there was no cd version of the record I had long since worn out (but still carried from move to move, the album cover). Very soon after this, my mom sent me the cd version, re-awakening my delight and reminded me that I had memorized the entire musical version as a child. To this day, I can still hear
Richard Harris reputedly had to personally track down more than 90 of the heirs to the legacy of Kahlil Gibran throughout the world, and get them ALL to unanimously authorize such a musical rendition of the book. He did so, and the world is a better place for it. I am very saddened that I will never get now to thank personally either Arif Mardin or Richard Harris himself for the gift they gave me in my life. I have, however, thanked my mother numerous times!
Like 2112 by Rush before it (in my discovery), it has a sweeping and epic flavor to it, although both works are markedly different in philosophy. Mostly spoken word, this Irish Elizabethan-trained actor’s inflections and dramatic flair added so much to my pre-teen life that I wasn’t able to fully appreciate until I began studying Classical Yoga as taught in the Saraswati lineage from Swami Sivananda and his disciples.
I have since branched out to understand Classical Yoga as a immense, indeed the largest, body of spiritual work available to mankind, but it is largely summarized by ‘The Prophet’ in Kahlil Gibran’s poetic words. To this end, we proceed...