Category: Meditations

of CalmnesS

There are some, who in refusing to accept a calm response invite you to partake in fits of excitement and hysteria — yield not. For no good solution is ever discovered through rage and fractious emotion. To do so is to snap like the rigid oak resisting the tempest.  In the end, years of growth and grace are laid to waste, and though you may have prevailed your point, it was for naught. The rift becomes greater, words are unheeded and you are left shamefully gathering the splintered pieces of inner thoughts.

Only through calm surrender does the timber survive the storm, harmoniously swaying like the solitaire palm, to the gushing sound of the wind, yet remaining firmly rooted to its source. Calmness is clarity, it is absent of competing concepts – and stillness is sovereignty. Mastery of inner thought reduces outer noise to fleeting echo. As stated in a less known proverb, “No matter how loud the wind howls, the mountain can not bowl to it.” The energy reserved from petty squabbles and wasted thought is harnessed and redirected, creating an indomitable impetus of fulfillment in all directions. Fortifying mental strands is the beginning of personal liberty and the path to true reign. The inability to self govern disqualifies one from leadership. The life of self restraint reduces regret and, or fear of embarrassment. What we often like to attribute to impulse, originates in thought and acquires momentum through repetition, until impulse becomes the final automated expression.

Calmness is a tree rooted in darkness. Shading the weary mind from worry. It gathers splintered energy to a single streaming force. It demands balance in all things. Nature does not contend with itself. The misuse of energy in a particular direction withdraws it from its opposite. It is impossible to be simultaneously calm and hysterical, strong and weak, or an honest and dishonest person. Emerson referred to this principle as the law of compensation.

Calmness is a natural human state, It is the state of nature. Nature always proceeds from and returns to serenity. Both the raging tempest and earthquake gather their strength within the dark stillness and what may be perceived as rage is the correction of balance. Like the storm, the temperance of man is the abiding energy behind every good and undeniable force. The incorruptible law of the universe is good and or beneficial. The familiar and often, overused adages of good conquering evil are etched in time. It is an abiding principle of the abyss; that can neither be penetrated nor exterminated. The reality of life is that of virtue, to see it, we have only to quiet the beckoning noise and dissolve our daily fiction. The world without is the world within, “ as above so below, as within so without.” The conquest of internal conflict renders one unshakable to external chaos. The battle of life has always been so — all else is distraction; once resolved, so too is distraction.  

by K. Osei

upOn a time

What would you give to feel the beauty relived in nature for the very first time?


To see the sheen, gleam from the leaves of a cluster of trees on a bright Sunday morning shine.
Or dancing particles beamed through a stream of light from the bedroom window.
To still be charmed by a touch of breeze easing across the hairs of your arm.


To inhale the soft, sweet moisture in the air before a storm,
or pick a grape from the vine; or a juicy peach from a tree you’ve climbed.
To chase behind a fire fly on a cheerful evening in the mid of July —
or ponder the wonder of the sound of thunder and the flash of lightning in the midnight sky.


To slip and slide along a hillside covered in snow.
What would you give to enjoy the rain,
enough to remain under the purging showers from on high?


To have adventure in your eyes, from the moment you rise,
in the morning from savory sleep,
or to rip and run, under the sun with friends along the way — and imagine the shape of dragons in the trees as you play.


by K. Osei

Pitch

When blackness concedes darkness there’s sure to be light. 

How does blackness in America express itself in the context of the spiritual — beyond the church; and what does it look like in productive service to blackness? Religion/theology as practiced by African Americans, as an instrument appears to be in default. more than two hundred years of practice apart from captivity and patience remain the dominant theme. It seems blackness has yet to grasp the dark or attain mastery of their God. A belief where everything of value appears to originate from without; none of which has provided even a rudimentary path to wholeness, at least not as evidenced by the numerous hollow fractions within and without; requires at least a second look. Failing to attain basic appendages in this life, would make it highly reasonable to believe that it will at least rival this in the next, that is, if we accept balance and compensation as a ruling principle of spiritual/natural law. Nature’s compensation plan is always pursuing balance, not charity. Only that which contributes to wholeness is supported. Separation appears to be the great paradox. When has lack ever been rewarded, except when it ceases to be lacking, at which, it never was.

What are the tenets of black theology in America and do they qualify as a sustainable and beneficial resource from the perception of tranquility or subsistence as portrayed in, say, buddhism or judaism? Where is the adjustment made? Many of us who grew up under various christian denominations can attest to a deficit on both accounts. Maybe more consideration should be given to qualities beyond the pulpit – both in matter and spirit. If church is the holy matrimony black folk may be well within their religious right to seek divorce for breach of obligation. Though it has been impossible to document amongst archeologists and historians alike, theological faith continues to claim a literal presence amidst african history. This outward approach to the spiritual has failed — enriching preachers rather than people. Is there meaning beyond the literal interpretation of scripture that can provide a balm for blackness? A more reflective quest for meaning may be required if black folk are to find present usefulness in religion. Exactly where does salvation exist? In the after life? leading black sheep to an afterlife of riches may be the age old shame of shepherds. That there are no sustainable or pleasing pastures on the planet, seems to be a contradiction of birth, or perhaps, presumes reincarnation somewhere other than earth. Blackness is much darker than their current practice of religion credits them of being. A vast reinterpretation of scripture would likely bring about the most beautiful collaboration of blackness. One where black is not simply allowed in heaven or banished to hell but recognized by themselves as a viable part of humanity on earth rather than after. https://youtu.be/vKKGAo30s84?si=nDgJ5EjSy-6TC2FY


by K. Osei

WordS for Cousin Rick

As a young boy, My mother would often remind me; “we preach our own eulogies everyday, by the way we choose to live.” A good life leaves very little to be said at the end. I’ve been to many funerals, though I can not recall the words that were spoken — I do remember the lives that were lived.

Ricky’s life was one of the most inspiring eulogies I’ve ever observed. 

In my ear, I can vaguely hear his voice; “ hurry up, keep it short cousin, your gonna f@ck-up my life’s work with your words.”

 So I’ll be brief.

I was fortunate to have had a cousin as my closest friend. He was a socially irresistible guy.  I was always challenged by his way of dealing with people. He had a way of being comfortable and making others feel the same. A confidence I’ve always admired. 

He was consistent. I’m sure we each have our own versions of Ricky, but If we were to compare them, I believe they would all look surprisingly the same.

Ricky was a practical man. He required things to make sense, and have a useful application. 

He was among the most reasonable people I’ve ever known, and I loved him dearly!

COUSIN
Cousin Ricky, how can I write you? you have left us – and I find you to be most difficult to describe. 

what words can I use, or language to symbolize my feelings.  It seems that feelings are all there is, in silence – they have no use.

the most magnificent sound ever whispered, seems to linger, like the last of fall’s golden leaves, reflecting the radiance of the sun.

knowing you has been the pleasure of my life. 

the wonder of you was not in the doing, nor the learning we shared – your being was bountiful.

there was but a single existence between us – and still. for what was will forever be, and the glee of your memory is the vision forward. https://youtu.be/YwLgxyVjwk4

by K. Osei