Fresh Rain

Apparent Duality of the Phases of the Moon

by Umtul Valeton-Kiekens

The moon is, from our view from the earth, different nearly every day; she travels through phases from where we cannot see her, when she turns her dark side to the earth, to brilliant fullness.

All of the sudden, one evening when the first sliver is there, a feeling of happiness arises; there is a promise in the air.

Always looking out for that first crescent of the new moon... it gives a sense of relief, to see her re-appearing, a reassurance that she will once more shine to her fullest soon, which is palpable already in that first appearance...

Yet it all happens from our point of view only.

That sliver grows every day and rises every evening a little later… she travels through space where the earthly law of time is not valid.

So, she grows until, one evening, rising quite late in the evening: There she is, full and brilliant. What a contradiction, only two weeks ago to the dark moon, and we were able to witness that magic!

Yet it all happens from our point of view only.

The brilliant full moon is, in fact, always there.

It is interesting to have more thoughts about that—we cannot see her fully because of the shadow of ourselves, of our planet earth, who is covering her from partly to totally or not at all.

All happening in apparent reality … from our point of view only.

To me, there also seems to be a difference of light in her waning and waxing. In waning her light seems to get duller every step on the way to non-existence—and in her waxing she seems brighter.

Not only her form differs, her brightness, timing, but then her colors as well! Last night I witnessed the waning moon rising and she was bright red. There are Blue Moons, Yellow Moons, and White Moons also. What a creative planet to be able to take on all these different garments. It is almost as if she wants to say: you see this you can do too; there is hope for you, for the world.

I am using these metaphors because it is very much like our experience in life. Some days the light from within is shining bright, other days it is less. At least we can understand the moon and the shadow of the earth, but we cannot always understand why we feel less brilliant one day, then dull the next. To me, I do recognize there is something like a shadow covering the light from within, like on a cloudy day. There seems to be a kind of reciprocity too, when there seems to be less light coming from within, there also seems to come less light from the outer world to “feed” or light your inner one.

This is all again apparently like the phases of the moon, an apparent duality and from our point of view.

And then one day that first sliver reappears, lifting up spirits to hope, renewal end excitement ... growth to the full moon.

My hope is like a bird carrying the full moon in its wings and bringing its light of hope and healing all over the earth….

In This Issue

Polarity and Duality

by Erica Witt

I have been struggling with Parkinson’s Disease for several years. It has become my principal learning field in my particular aging process. What I say about it is what I have learnt from my experience; very little comes from science, pharmacology, neurology. I expect a Neurologist would be horrified! But it’s my “take” on this quarter’s Fresh Rain theme.

PD, for short, is a neurological condition. What little is understood by our present understanding is that it’s main cause is a lack of dopamine in the brain, which affects muscles, movement, mood, leading to increasing dysfunction. The autonomic nervous system has become somehow exposed to conscious awareness, like an electrical fault, an intractable switching from positive to negative poles: yes/no, endlessly repetitive, frustrating, exhausting, the movement exaggerated to a flip/flap, a gyration, a violent paroxysm by fatigue, excitement, anger, agitation.

I call this polarity, like the bi-polar, oppositional nature of so much of our experience: Yes/no. Black/white. Male/ female. Good/bad. We steer our lives/our lives are steered, and our experiences orchestrated in accordance with these subliminal triggers.

Do we? Don’t we? Answer in two sentences to pass your exam: Pass/fail. Win/lose. Success/failure.

Duality, for me, is different. It is a shift from the oppositional, antagonistic nature of Polarity to a more balancing, co-operative interplay of forces. Like Dual Nationality for instance, where power-play has matured to a choice of options, a mutuality of benefit. Perhaps! Or like both arms working together with different rhythms and roles to fulfill a task together, beating eggs or cutting up logs.

No doubt we need both Polarity and Duality in different areas of our lives or in changing stages of development.

I’ve also been reflecting on the organizational input of the two hemispheres of our brain. For me, the left brain manages the factual and numerical, reasoning side of life. The right brain creates and organizes by color, texture, juxtaposition, the imaginative responses to what’s going on in our lives. Do these two sides compete or do they cooperate? Writing, I would say is left brain. Imagery is right brain. Left brain is straight lines and corners. Right brain is squiggles and curves. And this is just for the visuals. There’s music: rhythm or melody? and so on.

All this is just my fascination at scratching the surface of things, grasping awareness in brief glimpses as life hurries by. Watching in a two-dimensional/three-dimensional time-bound way the mysterious interplay of our bodies, our lives, our consciousness.

I expect God laughs, but with kindness and generosity I hope, at my rumblings and mumblings. The mystery of it all is so vast, tantalizing, and overflowing with possibilities. My pains and frustrations are, on a good day, just a little contribution!

As I Me Walk-Ed

by Simon Vivian

When Amrita sent out her call for contributions to this issue of Fresh Rain on Dualities something inside me responded, a visceral sense, a remembering maybe—but something….

I let this rest in me for over a week, resurfacing from time to time but without coherent form. There were a few strands that had announced themselves.

I’d remembered a song that we sometimes sing in one of our groups that goes—

“As I me walk-ed one fine May morning, I heard a bird sing…”

This sounds like being taken for a walk—but by whom. And then the bird sang—and that was enough.

And again, a time when asked to say who we were in a group gathering together I said: “I’m called Simon.” Why not just Simon? I was making space between I and Me.

What’s this with dividing myself in parts, making a duality a masking of this that I am, whole. I’m not whom you say I am—am I or Me?

But then the Bird Sang and there was neither I nor Me, just this listening being listened and the looking being looked and all was well and always has been forever and ever.

It’s so easy to make stories.

And so today, I sat here and began to narrate this. It finds wonder in me without knowing the what, why, when or how. And that’s just fine.

I’m reminded of a few words that Pir O Murshid Fazal Inayat-Khan wrote back in 1973 in his lecture on Interest in Everything:

“… we should not lose sight of the fact that in this illusionary existence in which purpose is not really separate from life, everything man does is done either in vain or in vanity. The mystic chooses, rather than to do things in vanity, to act in vain, chooses rather than to find that nothing is interesting, to be interested in everything, while knowing that there is nothing to be known.”

Having It All

by Viv Quillan

As I write this, I’m feeling tentative relief and gladness because perhaps the war in Ukraine is coming to an end. At the same time, I have a heavy heart about all the pain that this war has brought about and the damage which now needs to be repaired. The loss of life that it has caused can never be repaired. My heart is muddled and confused by being pulled in different directions.

Even without the drama and dreary hardship of a war, in our humble little lives, who has not experienced sleepless nights when all troubles seem to magnify? As the dawn creeps into the darkness, gently illuminating a new day, it can lift our spirits and shine fresh hope on our situation. 

Another scenario—tired and anxious we slip into the blessed, velvet serenity of night and maybe sleep, which gives us a welcome break from our seemingly endless tribulations. Then the glare of daylight brings us to yet another day to be got through.

Who can say what is destructive or healing? Good or bad? Both at the same time? As I thought of writing about Duality, my heart, no, my brain sank under the burden of trying to make some sense of it.

Always glad to procrastinate, I went for a walk and, in an orchard, I came across a fluttering of November butterflies in the autumn sunshine, feasting on fermenting pears. They were amongst an abundance of hornets, bees, wasps and other insects. I wondered if they would get hangovers later.

As insect numbers are plummeting globally, I could have used this moment to feel sadness and anxiety about the future. For once, I was simply suffused by the sweetness of the experience.

Inspired as always, by the terrible and wonderful, huge and tiny magnificence of nature which we are an integral part of, Duality seemed to me like this: There is no sense to be made of it, only the agonizing and beautiful, bittersweet joy of Having It All.

I find that bathing everything in Love helps too.

The Pendulum

Between turbulence and calm,

the eternal pendulum swings

from one extreme to the other

passing through the centre point twice.

At rest, it settles mid-point,

motionless, giving me chance

to choose the equilibrium

of an open heart and still mind.

Devoid of human prejudice,

extremes may be seen merely

as transient forces in motion,

seeking balanced co-existence.

Through contrasting emotions,

sadness and joy,

panic and serenity,

Life is fully experienced.

Maybe if I watch

the pendulum without

judgment I will see

Beauty manifest in All.

—Lysana Robinson