Kabir says “When I received the invitation to go home, I cried for I knew that there was no sweetness like truth-speaking even in heaven.” Something like that. I relate it to conversation, free flowing and spontaneous. Don’t know if that’s what Kabir had in mind but I’m pretty sure.
Forthcoming, candid, forthright, frank and free. Reading the thesaurus now. Sincere, straight, truthful, unequivocal. Honest, feeling the other person, perceiving their presence and acknowledging their life in this world, the same as I am in this world, I have a personal history, the same as you do.
Maybe just looking someone in the eye and listening to them is enough to count for truth-speaking. I mean truth-speaking doesn’t mean you always have to tell the truth. It can be a joke (which is often a spun yarn) or sarcastic (a kind of joke where you make fun of the whole stupid idea, whatever it is you’re making fun of) or exaggerating your story so it’s more interesting. Nothing wrong with that. People do it all the time. But the truth-telling part is being real. Allowing yourself to be real. That’s what I think.
I never talked to Kabir, he lived 600 years ago, but I bet it was a gas. Whether in the cafe or on the bus, Kabir would be alot of fun. Definitely. Hey there’s probably Kabirs walking around today who want to truth-speak, who know the pleasure and the fun. I’ll find a two year old. They know. They will entertain your presence. People in Mexico too, or any country where people live simply, they know how to entertain themselves with your presence.
Originally it was called Call and Response. Our ancient ancestors did it as a way of staying together and making sure everyone was ‘ok’. I don’t know what their word for ‘ok’ was 50,000 years ago but I’ll bet it was expressive. “Hey, I’m still alive. How about you?” “Yes! I’m still alive too.” We still do that today when we say, “Hi how are you?” and “I’m fine. Thank you.” Then we can go on our way knowing that they’re ok and I’m ok. Important. Ants do it with their feelers. My cat does it, takes a smell of my nose, purrs, gives me a blink. All is good.
Politics can be truth-speaking but it’s usually not. Usually it wants to make a point, win a point, out maneuver the other fellow, destroy their point of view and dominate the conversation, win the debate, win the war, maybe yell and scream a little. It’s therapy not truth-speaking. Except nobody ever seems to get healed. I mean no one actually wins an argument. Why would you let the other guy be right when you’ve got your opinion? Opinion is the highest form of knowledge. That was sarcastic.
I wonder what Kabir was feeling when he wrote this. Actually he didn’t write, he composed them orally, spontaneously and they spread from person to person like a hot rumor. Nobody bothered to write his poems down until two hundred years later, after they had become thoroughly enmeshed in the culture and somebody had the brilliant idea, hey why don’t we write these down. Anyways, they survived. He must have been experiencing something. I know poetry doesn’t come from nowhere. Neither does literature. Neither does conversation. Neither does truth-speaking.
“Inside this clay jug there are canyons and pine mountains,
and the maker of canyons and pine mountains!
All seven oceans are inside, and hundreds of millions
of stars.
The acid that tests gold is there, and the one who
judges jewels.
And the music from the strings no one touches, and
the source of all water.
If you want the truth, I will tell you the truth:
Friend, listen: the God whom I love is inside.”
— Kabir
translation by Robert Bly
music for the podcast - 37:38 to the end / that flute / thank you Cacao Yoga in Vancouver / i love you guys
truth-speaking