{"id":193,"date":"2012-10-14T01:54:20","date_gmt":"2012-10-14T01:54:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/8781865c-11cd-480c-bf25-13e01330bb13"},"modified":"2012-10-14T01:54:20","modified_gmt":"2012-10-14T01:54:20","slug":"visiting-the-soul-reflections-on-spiritual-growth-based-on-a-poem-by-antonio-machado","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/?p=193","title":{"rendered":"Visiting the Soul, Reflections on Spiritual Growth, Based on a Poem by Antonio Machado"},"content":{"rendered":"

Visiting the Soul,<\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

Reflections on Spiritual Growth,<\/font><\/p>\n

Based on a Poem by Antonio
\nMachado<\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/font>\"\"<\/p>\n


\n<\/font><\/p>\n

From the door sill of a
\ndream they called my name\u2026<\/o:p><\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

It was the good voice,
\nthe voice I loved so much.<\/o:p><\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014Listen: will you go
\nwith me to visit the soul?…\u201d<\/o:p><\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

A soft stroke reached
\nup to my heart.<\/o:p><\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cWith you always\u201d\u2026And
\nin my dream I walked<\/o:p><\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

Down a long and
\nsolitary corridor,<\/o:p><\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

Aware of the touching
\nof the pure robe,<\/o:p><\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

And the soft beating of
\nblood in the hand that loved me.<\/o:p><\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/font><\/i><\/p>\n

Antonio Machado, translated by Robert
\nBly, from the book<\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

Times Alone: Selected Poems of Antonio Machado (Wesleyan Poetry in Translation)<\/a>\"\"<\/p>\n

 <\/font><\/p>\n

I love this
\npoem.  It is beautiful, simple, and filled
\nwith mysterious contradictions. It is also filled with hope. The line \u201cwith you
\nalways\u201d brings tears to my eyes every time I read it.  Let this poem sink in a little, let it break
\nopen for you, into you, through you.  Learn
\nit by heart and treasure its many surprising assurances.<\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

What mysterious
\ncontradictions am I speaking about? Notice the poem says \u201cvoices,\u201d in the first
\nline and yet the next line says, \u201cIt was the good voice, the voice I loved so
\nmuch.\u201d  That contradiction of plural and singular
\nused to bother me and I often wondered if \u201cvoices\u201d was a typo.  Today I sense something behind the plural and
\nsingular that breathes the first breath of magic of the poem for me:  When we heed the voices of a community of safe
\npeople (and for most of my life I didn\u2019t\u2014I isolated due to shame and arrogance,
\ninsecurities and fear), they become one voice\u2014the voice of the Beloved\u2014the \u201cgood
\nvoice,\u201d \u201cthe voice we love so much.\u201d  The
\nmany voices of friends who love us, become the one voice of the Divine, just as
\nthe many words of this poem or any other sacred text become one meaning (unique
\nto each reader, of course).  But we must
\ntake steps into deep listening when we are with others so that when it speaks
\nwe hear it and we take action.<\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

Another mystery
\nof this poem is where it takes place. The voices call us \u201cfrom the door sill of
\na dream.\u201d  From which side of the door
\nare we on?  Are we inside and the voices
\ncoming from outside?  Or are we outside
\nwith the voices inviting us in?  My
\nmentor is fond of saying, \u201cThe door to the sick mind opens from the inside,\u201d
\nand I think that fits here. We are on the inside of a dream and the voices that
\nbecome One Voice are outside of us, calling us to step into a reality that is,
\nparadoxically, within.  <\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

(I am
\nreminded that Rudolf Steiner once said, \u201cIf you want to learn about the world,
\ngo within and if you want to learn about yourself go without into the world.\u201d)<\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

And what
\ndoes the voice say? It asks a question<\/i>.  The answer to our many dilemmas in life are all
\none question: <\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014Listen:
\nwill you go with me to visit the soul?…\u201d 
\n<\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

It is an
\ninvitation that one has to listen for. 
\nIt is an invitation to go within. 
\nAnd the Guest anticipates we might be afraid when asked this holy
\nquestion.  So the next line affirms: \u201cWith
\nyou always.\u201d  The Guest knows this
\njourney, contrary to all saccharine presentations of the spiritual life, means
\npain, as much as it does healing.  It
\nmeans struggle as much as it does freedom. 
\nIt means stumbling as much as it does dancing.  It means work as much as play. And the Guest
\nknows this and assures us that we will never travel this journey alone.  <\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

Ah, but then
\ncomes the next mysterious contradiction: we begin walking with the Guest and
\nthe road is solitary, it is long, and it is a corridor.  It is like a womb and we must be born again
\nalone in that secret place within and yet we are born again with a Guest
\nholding our hand.  So it all starts with community.  We must take little steps out of ourselves
\ninto the lives of others and suddenly we find ourselves, we find the Beloved.  And even though we can stick close to friends
\nand loved ones, the actual journey within is solitary.  We are the only ones who can move our feet.  God won\u2019t even do that for us.  We are free to stand or move.  <\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

So where are
\nwe going?  We are going to visit the
\nsoul.  We are going to be born again with
\nthe Beloved.  It is a sacred
\nvisitation.  We do not stay there.  If we stay too much within we lose touch with
\nthe world around us, and vice-a-versa. <\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

And this
\nbrings us to the part of the poem that, should its meaning blossom into our
\nhearts, we will experience a sense of comfort that touches eternity.<\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

The Beloved
\nis close<\/i>.  And the more we walk with others and within, the
\nmore the Beloved becomes a reality to us.  The Beloved is suddenly so close, so close we
\ntouch.  We feel the Beloved\u2019s robe
\nbrushing against as we walk–such sweet, comforting, soft nearness.  We hold hands with the Beloved.  We feel the blood pulsing in the Beloved\u2019s
\nhand\u2014and this is such an important detail, this feeling of the pulse, this
\nremarkable, luminous intimacy. When we walk hand in hand with the Beloved we
\nfeel alive<\/i>.  The connection between us is real<\/i>\u2014it pulses.  It\u2019s passionate and vibrant.  It is filled with adventure.  <\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

And who is
\nthe Beloved?  <\/font>Notice where
\nthe Beloved\u2019s \u201csoft stroke\u201d reaches from: it \u201creaches <\/font>up<\/i> to our hearts.\u201d And this is because it comes from a Child, a Child
\nreaching up to stroke our hearts.  The
\nBeloved Companion is the Holy Child.  We
\nmust begin a journey towards the soul and when we do, we go, at first, with and
\nas, a Child.  And it all starts with the
\nHoly Child calling <\/font>us<\/i>, being born
\nwithin us, and then uniting Itself with us so that we might raise that Child up
\nso that one day It can give birth to us again. <\/font><\/p>\n

And even
\nthough it\u2019s \u201ca dream\u201d\u2014in the sense that it feels so unbelievable, it is
\nreal.  The Holy Child is Real.  And when we go towards the soul, towards our
\nultimate reality, towards living our Heart\u2019s Desire we do not go alone.  We take Innocence, Joy, Wonder, Truth, and a
\nglorious, never ending sense of discovery. <\/o:p><\/font><\/p>\n

Tell me Dear Readers, what does this poem mean to you?<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/font>\"\"<\/p>\n

 <\/font><\/p>\n

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Visiting the Soul, Reflections on Spiritual Growth, Based on a Poem by Antonio Machado   From the door sill of a dream they called my name\u2026 It was the good voice, the voice I loved so much. \u201c\u2014Listen: will you go with me to visit the soul?…\u201d A soft stroke reached up to my heart. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[2],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/193"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=193"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/193\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=193"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=193"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=193"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}