INTRODUCTION
My spiritual practice has taught me that words are merely “symbols of
symbols.” So much potential for confusion, misunderstanding and, now and
again, that something else. I find a paradoxical ‘forgetting of the words’ when
I remove them from the page, ‘download them to my heartdrive’. There are the
symbols of the characters—letters, words. There are definitions of those
words. There is what those words mean to you, me, others. There are emotions
and memories evoked by certain words and phrases which are slightly or
completely different for each one of us. Then, when we give voice to them,
there are sounds associated with these words—vibrations, notes, frequencies
and rhythms within these sounds.
I didn’t have a word for this until I first heard the Japanese word “kototama”
(sometimes spelled kotodama). This word literally translates as “word spirit”.
(Koto “word/speech” and tama or dama “spirit/soul”). As I was taught, kototama
was the underlying reason we (A Japanese based spiritual community known
as Shumei) were chanting a 3,000 year old Shinto prayer in Japanese language
so archaic that even my Japanese friends could not understand most of the
meaning of the words. I was told “It’s not the meaning of the words but more
the vibration, the sound and spirit of the words that matters.” Something lit
up in me in that moment, a deepening explanation and consciousness for why
I was doing what I had already been doing for years.
Most often it is the so called “meaning” of a poem that first attracts me to
download it to my heartdrive. Once it’s firmly installed and I can give voice
to it in the highly particular way I hear it being spoken, I find I have become
equally interested in the way it sounds as I am in what it might “mean”. It
becomes for me a song. I have reflected long upon the process of downloading
poetry into my heartdrive. What happens to us when, through repetition,
commitment, love… we take the symbols off the page and put them in our
hearts? What magick can we conjure by calling up these verses in those ‘just
right’ moments when a segue arises? What effect does it have on our own
voice as writers to download the words of the great masters into our being?
I like to encourage people listening to or reading poetry to forget what the
poet meant when they wrote the poem—don’t even try. Rather, see what
it means to you at that moment. What feelings, memories, thoughts does
the poem evoke? Billy Collins, past national poet laureate and professor of
English speaks well of this in his poem “Introduction to Poetry”, when he
says “But all they want to do is tie it to a chair and torture a confession out
of it.” Of course there is nothing wrong with loving a poem intellectually,
emotionally or for any other reason. I think there are as many reasons to love
a poem as there are individuals in this world. I simply encourage all of us to
see what arises from within ourselves first.
Some esoteric information regarding kototama was shared with me by a man
who literally lives in a cave. In my own words, my understanding of this
teaching is that at one point in ancient history, all beings (not only human)
shared a common language. There were no misunderstandings. This was the
language of kototama, the language of creation and with each utterance we
created. Words (and sound) carry great power, and as the expression goes
“The pen is mightier than the sword”. The Christian Bible begins with the
passage “In the beginning was the word and the word was with God, and the
word was God.” I believe this idea of kototama is the direction that phrase is
pointing.
Writing for me lies at the very heart of my spiritual practice. After publishing
this collection, I intend to experiment with leading some gatherings I refer to
as “Poetry as Practice”. I am interested in delving more deeply into the layers
of meaning, the kototama of poetry and how it can benefit us as individuals
and as a collective society. The way I see it, life is poetry and we are all poets.
Not all of us (thank goodness) need to write it down or recite it. I like to say
“Poetry is no fun without ears to hear.”
Over the years writing many of these poems down felt like as much of a need
as a want. First and foremost this is the reason for bringing this collection
to print. The wisest thing I ever heard Chief Arvol Looking Horse, spiritual
leader of the Great Sioux Nation, say was “Some of us have no choice.” Ah,
sweet choicelessness! Secondly this collection is for those to whom these
particular arrangements of symbols and sounds tickle something within in
you which you enjoy having tickled or perhaps disturbs a part of you that
needs to be disturbed.