Tag Archives: John Masefield

slippery slope of spirituality

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“With devotion’s visage and pious action we do sugar o’er the devil himself,” noted Shakespeare (Hamlet).  Spirituality is a perilous journey for it so easy to become “humble”, failing to recognize that one is just being smug or arrogant.  As I like to put it…and this comes from personal experience, “Humility comes hard to the humble.”  Eckhart Tolle’s concept of “egoic consciousness” is so relevant to spirituality.  And this pseudo-humility, this “devotion’s visage and pious action” usually stems from taking oneself too seriously.

If honesty intrudes on us, we will often have to admit that our spirituality is just a song-and-dance which serves the purpose of assuaging our lonliness and isolation.  It is part of the aforementioned (in an earlier post) effort to “spin a veil to hide us from the void.” (Norman O. Brown)

Read here how John Masefield summarized this matter:

 

How many ways, how many different times

The tiger Mind has clutched at what it sought,

Only to prove supposéd virtues crimes,

The imagined godhead but a form of thought.

How many restless brains have wrought and schemed,

Padding their cage, or built, or brought to law,

Made in outlasting brass the something dreamed,

Only to prove themselves the things of awe,

Yet, in the happy moment’s lightning blink,

Comes scent, or track, or trace, the game goes by,

Some leopard thought is pawing at the brink,

Chaos below, and, up above, the sky.

Then the keen nostrils scent, about, about,

To prove the Thing Within a Thing Without.

 

essential oils

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In the aforementioned John Masefield sonnet, he noted “the straitened spirit’s possibility.”  He posited the notion that when the human spirit is “straitened”, or undergoes adversity, it is possible to discover hidden dimensions of life, dimensions of life which empower the individual to soar, “to stream our fiery hour like a comet.”  Emily Dickinson also knew the value adversity:

 

Essential Oils—are wrung—
The Attar from the Rose
Be not expressed by Suns—alone—
It is the gift of Screws—

The General Rose—decay—
But this—in Lady’s Drawer
Make Summer—When the Lady lie
In Ceaseless Rosemary

By the “gift of screws” she was using the image of an old screw press, in which rose leaves were pressed between plates of steel which were tightened together by turning screws.  Thus the essence of the rose was extruded.  She was speaking from experience, that when life’s difficulties weigh down on us it is often possible that “essential oils are wrung.”  She was saying that when “the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir too” (Shakespeare/Hamlet) become overwhelming, we should maintain hope that from this moment something could might follow.

 

 

shakespeare sonnet

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SONNET 146 by William Shakespeare

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
(Thrall to) These rebel powers that thee array;
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body’s end?
Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:
So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.

 

Shakespeare said it all.  No one has grasped the human psyche like that man.  Here he echoed the words of Jesus, who once posed the question, “What shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul?”  Shakespeare recognized that there is a center, a quiet place, which often goes without notice.  It is a place which is largely not recognized by our current culture.  We are busy compulsively “painting our outward walls so costly gay”, ignoring the admonishment to, “Within be fed, without be rich no more.”  We are guilty of the sin of misplaced concreteness, taking for real what is only ephemeral.  And the price tag for this is a loss of perspective, a missing connection with the spiritual dimension which alone gives life meaning.  John Masefield noted, “We chase the shade, and let the real be.”

 

Here is the Masefield sonnet:

 

Man has his unseen friend, his unseen twin,

His straitened spirit’s possibility,

The palace unexplored he thinks an inn,

The glorious garden which he wanders by.

It is beside us while we clutch at clay

To daub ourselves that we may never see.

Like the lame donkey lured by moving hay

We chase the shade but let the real be.

Yet, when confusion in our heaven brings stress,

We thrust on that unseen, get stature from it,

Cast to the devil’s challenge the man’s yes,

And stream our fiery hour like a comet,

And know for that fierce hour a friend behind,

With sword and shield, the second to the mind.