Poetry đȘ·
We might start off by paraphrasing Oscar Wildeâs poem, substituting the word âArtâ for âLoveâ.
Art will fly if held too lightly,
Art will die if held too tightly,
Lightly, tightly, how do I know
Whether Iâm holding or letting Art go?
Ray Bradbury âą Zen in the Art of Writing
I take a Nietzschean approach: embracing the chaos, accepting there is no perfect. The Poetic Self is our embodied story that drives us toward meaning, beauty, morality, authenticity, and connection.
It requires walking the poetic path.
Finding the beauty in the chaos.
The poetic path isnât always comfortable.
It demands full, emotional honesty.
It asks... See more
It requires walking the poetic path.
Finding the beauty in the chaos.
The poetic path isnât always comfortable.
It demands full, emotional honesty.
It asks... See more
The Poetic Path
âOut beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. Iâll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase âeach otherâ
doesnât make any sense.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Donât go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Donât go b... See more
there is a field. Iâll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase âeach otherâ
doesnât make any sense.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Donât go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Donât go b... See more
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Rumi
Beyond Sustainability â A Meditation on Language.
Words are windows, or theyâre walls.
In their soil, we plant our common future.
In the garden of words, I once planted "sustainable",
A term that grew thorns around tender hearts.
Creating distance when I wished for connection,
Inspiring defense when I longed for openness.
For when I spoke of sustainabili
âYou wake the dead to lifeâ by Rumi (Translated by Haleh Liza Gafori)
âYou wake the dead to life,
you fountain of grace,
you fire in thickets of tangled thought.
âToday you arrived beaming with laughterâ
that swinging key that unlocks prison doors.
âYou are hopeâs beating heart.
You are a doorway to the sun.
You are the one I seek and the one who seeks me.
... See more
âYou wake the dead to life,
you fountain of grace,
you fire in thickets of tangled thought.
âToday you arrived beaming with laughterâ
that swinging key that unlocks prison doors.
âYou are hopeâs beating heart.
You are a doorway to the sun.
You are the one I seek and the one who seeks me.
... See more
Rumi â You wake the dead to life
Thereâs a collective, almost spiritual outcry for more creativity, meaning, and humanity in our lives. We live in a global society so coercively mechanised and commoditised that many of us feel crushed, burnt out, and more disconnected than ever.
The world feels like itâs accelerated in recent years. The individualist, capitalist dream is in its pri... See more
The world feels like itâs accelerated in recent years. The individualist, capitalist dream is in its pri... See more
The Poetic Path
Time, like the breath, is neither wasted nor spent. It simply is. The idea that we can waste time is rooted in the notion that time is something we own, something to be measured, traded, or lost.
But in truth, time is not ours to keep or give away. It is a river that flows, a stream that carries us, moment by moment, through life.
Our language deepl... See more
But in truth, time is not ours to keep or give away. It is a river that flows, a stream that carries us, moment by moment, through life.
Our language deepl... See more
Tijn Tjoelker on Substack
A Garden Beyond Paradise
by Rumi
Everything you see has its roots
in the unseen world.
The forms may change,
yet the essence remains the same.
Every wondrous sight will vanish,
every sweet word will fade.
But do not be disheartened,
The Source they come from is eternal--
growing, branching out,
giving new life and new joy.
Why do you weep?--
That Source is wit... See more
by Rumi
Everything you see has its roots
in the unseen world.
The forms may change,
yet the essence remains the same.
Every wondrous sight will vanish,
every sweet word will fade.
But do not be disheartened,
The Source they come from is eternal--
growing, branching out,
giving new life and new joy.
Why do you weep?--
That Source is wit... See more
A Garden Beyond Paradise, by Rumi
May the Source be with you.
â August Aalstad
Poetry asks us to look beyond words.
Asks us to seek the kind of blur where clarity
is held in combining ideas.
This is important.
Vital even.
The process nuances perception.
And defies algorithms.
Gobbling up rigid definitions like
crispy salted snacks.