Articles from March 2017

Published

your light

“I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.” — Hafiz

Your radiance is sometimes fierce, fiery, abundant, sometimes fragile and flickering. One day it’s a golden Garuda, with a full set of glowing wings and talons bigger than our combined hands, or an all-consuming bonfire that purifies and illuminates everything within reach of its smoke, heat and light. Another day it’s the gentle glint off a bread knife at the breakfast table, the mellow glow of a nearly submerged candle, the sun peeking out from behind heavy clouds. But your radiance is always with you, always available to you, even when it’s feeling quiet or shy, when it’s been nearly stamped out by someone else’s unresolved anger or fear, or when it’s so buried within you that you can’t see a way forward anymore. It doesn’t burn out, or expire, or abandon people who are tired and hurting. It just slips into energy-saving mode from time to time to regenerate, to find fresh fuel, to borrow from the sun. But I know (and Hafiz knew all those years ago) that the light of your being is still astonishing, even if you’re overwhelmed by a wave of seemingly unending darkness or a loneliness that stings so much it’s only bearable when you close your eyes.

— heidi kalyani, 2017 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

Published

cages

“The small man builds cages for everyone he knows. While the sage, who has to duck his head when the moon is low, keeps dropping keys all night long for the beautiful rowdy prisoners.” — Hafiz

This cage, my love, is too small to hold my soul, even if it temporarily holds my body. I may be lithe and portable (and as easy to rearrange as the furniture), but my essence is harder to hold onto, impossible to gather in the hands, as fluid and ephemeral as ice becoming water, or water becoming steam, and twice the size of the biggest sea, or the night sky filled with stars. So don’t worry about me, I am not as contained as I seem to be. And even so, a little containment is comforting (so long as I still hold the key). There have been times where I have willingly crawled into caves or corners, seeking warmth and stillness, a little protection from the wind or rain, some shelter from the vulnerability of my wide-openness. I’m not afraid of structure, of limitations, of rules — so long as I maintain the perspective and the fierceness of spirit to walk away, to break free, to use the key when it’s right for me.

— heidi kalyani, 2017 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

Published

more being, less doing

 

I’ve stopped asking myself “what do I want to *do* today?” and started asking myself “how do I want to *be* today?” For me, *being* is much richer, more fulfilling, more enlivening — and a lot less pressure! When I’m *being*, each moment is filled with raw, open-hearted curiosity, with a wonder that is fire and serenity together, with a knowing that is unconditional, eternal and all encompassing. *Being* is when I am truly at home, fully myself, and entirely at peace. It’s a state so powerful, that when I commit to it (with gentleness, so that it doesn’t appear on any to-do lists, or in any well-intentioned self-improvement schemes), it transforms all of my *doing* into magical, compassionate gifts that amaze me with their honesty, their integrity and their infinite wisdom.

— heidi kalyani, 2017 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

Published

self-love

I finally know — really know with every cell of my body — that I’m okay, that I will be okay, that the pain of falling, crashing and being shattered will dissipate and fade, that I will learn to love myself again… fully… with my whole heart, instead of just the sliver I allowed myself before. I see now that I was defensive, quick to explain and justify, to compromise, to acquiesce… wanting to hide anything I thought you might not approve of. I wanted to be loved, to be included, to be invited, but I didn’t fully love, include, or invite myself. I wasn’t breathing deeply and my feet weren’t connected to the ground. Like a black cloth on a sunny day, I soaked up the fear and anger you projected. I was penetrable. Vulnerable. Unboundaried. I believed the fear and anger were mine, even though they were as foreign to me as a third and fourth arm. I believed that I had forgotten how to be with people, how to be whole, how to hold a friend in the light. And in that state of instability, I wanted your bravado, your energy, your seeming sureness to refresh me, to give me strength and encouragement to be how I wanted to be. I wanted your love to coat me in resolve, in knowledge, in grace. But it didn’t. It brought me down. Brought us both down. Because it wasn’t real. It was a mask you use to cover over your insecurities, a way of hiding from yourself, a way of shifting responsibility for your unhappiness onto others. Rupi Kaur says, “How you love yourself is how you teach others to love you.” And so, I’m learning to love myself fully, unconditionally and with a soft gentleness that both rocks me to sleep and ignites the wildest fires!

— heidi kalyani, 2017 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line