Integral Evolutionary Living

The Kosmos Will Be My Witness

David Rainoshek • October 29, 2010 • Comments (0)

Leaves of Grass by American poet Walt Whitman is in my experience one of the finest expressions in the kosmos, and I have been reading Whitman – and enjoying the freedom and fullness of his mysticism – since I was on the road during a sabbatical from college at the age of 20.

Whitman is passionate, he is all-embracing; the many voices in himself, the earth, in humanity, (from matter to body to mind to soul to spirit) are all sung in his poetry – and during the mid to late 19th century when slavery was just beginning to wane, feminism was entering the scene as the industrial revolution was beginning to free up biologically-determined gender roles, and the American Civil War was either in action, or the nation was recovering from it. The United States was trying to figure itself out, and Whitman was determined to be not just an American poet, but the American poet, a voice for all. Here is a first taste from “Song of Myself”:

I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and
their parents the same.
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping not to cease till death.

Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
. . .

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems,
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand,
nor look through the eyes of the dead,
nor feed on the spectres in books,
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.

My first copy of Leaves of Grass was bought for me by my father when I was in college – it was a Barnes&Noble copy for $5.00, and in the last 16 years I have noted and dog-eared it up excellently. So recently I found a new copy – a leather-bound Franklin Library edition, and am proceeding to read Leaves anew.

So tonight, I want to read you a particularly potent selection from “Song of Myself” that resounds from the strong soul of a true mystic – resolute and sure in himself, with Spirit as the ground of his being.

I know I am deathless,
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter’s compass,
I know I shall not pass like a child’s carlacue cut with a burnt
stick at night.

I know I am august,
I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood,
I see that the elementary laws never apologize,
(I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by,
after all.)

I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content.

One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself,
And whether I come to my own to-day
or in ten thousand or ten million years,
I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.

My foothold is tenon’d and mortis’d in granite,
I laugh at what you call dissolution,
And I know the amplitude of time.

I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul,
The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate
into a new tongue.

Wonderful, wonderful. The great majority of this passage is spoken from Big Mind – the awakened mind – free and infinite. “I know I am deathless.” “I exist as I am, that is enough, If no other in the world be aware I sit content, And if each and all be aware I sit content.” “I know the amplitude of time.”

And yet Whitman is not preferential to just the limitless, unqualifiable freedom of Big Mind, but integrates Big Heart, as well. “I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me.”

THE EARTH WILL BE MY WITNESS

Siddhartha being Tempted by Mara on the Night of his Grand Awakening

I am reminded of one of my favorite stories, that of the night the historical Buddha realized his great awakening. Siddhartha (the Buddha) had been practicing in with several other renunciates, in communities, with teachers, and on the road for 5 years. After being saved from starvation (he was giving asceticism a try) by a young child who fed him rice and milk, he established a quiet place to practice under a tree, and Siddhartha began to see more and more clearly the true nature of the awakened mind. Finally, one day not too long after being saved from his trials with asceticism, he recognized that a grand awakening was forthcoming. Siddhartha determined to sit under the tree in meditation until he was fully awakened.

Seeing this, Mara (representing suffering and death) appears to Siddhartha to tempt him (a common theme, no?). After numerous temptations Mara is about to give up, but he provides one last test. Mara says, “Okay – fine! So you are going to wake up – you are going to have a grand awakening and know the nature of your mind, of consciousness, of all things manifest and unmanifest. Good for you. But who will you be able to tell? Who will know it?

Siddhartha knew there was some truth to this.What he was about to directly realize would be beyond words, and few if any would have the requisite desire and conditions necessary to practice and see for themselves. Yet, Siddhartha was not dissuaded. He placed his hand on the Earth, and said, “The Earth will be my Witness.” And with that, Mara left, and Siddhartha woke up, and discovered his true self, and his Unique Self as the historical Buddha, fully awake, fully divine, fully human.

As I said, this is one of my favorite stories in all the traditions. How many times do we do things that no one may ever know about? We wonder if it is worth it – who will witness or appreciate my efforts? The answer: The Kosmos will be your Witness. Keep on! I leave you today with some potent lines again from Whitman in “Song of the Open Road.”

Allons! whoever you are, come travel with me!
Traveling with me, you find what never tires.

The earth never tires;
The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first—Nature is rude and incomprehensible at first;
Be not discouraged—keep on—there are divine things, well envelop’d;
I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.

Allons! we must not stop here!
However sweet these laid-up stores—however convenient this dwelling, we cannot remain here;
However shelter’d this port, and however calm these waters, we must not anchor here;
However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us, we are permitted to receive it but a little while.

Allons! the inducements shall be greater;
We will sail pathless and wild seas;
We will go where winds blow, waves dash, and the Yankee clipper speeds by under full sail.

Allons! with power, liberty, the earth, the elements!
Health, defiance, gayety, self-esteem, curiosity;
Allons! from all formules!
From your formules, O bat-eyed and materialistic priests!

The stale cadaver blocks up the passage—the burial waits no longer.

Allons! yet take warning!
He traveling with me needs the best blood, thews, endurance;
None may come to the trial, till he or she bring courage and health.

Come not here if you have already spent the best of yourself;
Only those may come, who come in sweet and determin’d bodies;
. . .

I and mine do not convince by arguments, similes, rhymes;
We convince by our presence.