Poetry in Diaspora - Murmurs of Moonlight

One Kind of Emotion

Let me murmur the immemorial vow
As I gently bow my head.
A tenderness like water
Flows beneath this evening's liquid moonlight.
How should I visualize that place, so distant?
I hear a child's voice lifted in benediction.
The stars impart an icy solace.
The stationery's pale;
A couple of ordinary words stagger my heart.
I call Heaven and Earth to witness:
Life is but a cloud, a leaf.

Tsering Woeser

One Kind of Emotion

Written in 1988 Chengdu by Tibetan poet Tsering Woeser, "One Kind of Emotion" succinctly captures the everyday emotions of not only contemporary Tibetan women like its author, but of displaced people across the global diaspora, writers and artists with stories to tell but few to bear witness to them. While Woeser does not profess the ability to speak for anyone besides herself, her poetry nonetheless speaks to the experiences of many.

Born in the Tibetan capital of Lhasa and educated in Chengdu, China, Woeser's name is scarcely known outside of Chinese and Tibetan circles. Because of the tenuous situation between Tibet and China, she underwent censorship at the hands of the Chinese government for her book Notes on Tibet which revealed her observations on the ground in Chinese-occupied Tibet at the heat of its largest wave of protests so far in the twenty-first century.

Woeser was placed on house arrest for writings she published to the internet during the Tibetan uprisings of 2008. A collection of her poems, ranging from political to spiritual in content, were translated into English and published in the book Tibet's True Heart. It is from this book that we pull the poem "One Kind of Emotion" for contemplation in the larger context of diasporic expression.

Murmurs of Moonlight

Let me murmur the immemorial vow
As I gently bow my head.
Beginning the poem, Woeser's murmurs here allude to a widely respected practice of vow-making in Tibetan Buddhism, where vows often function as commitments to help relieve the suffering of all sentient beings. Notably, a quote by the renowned Tibetan poet-sage Milarepa introduces the book: "Pray hearken to this song with five parables and six meanings, the song with rhythm, the song like a golden string." Such lines are heavy with symbolism. Like her predecessors, Woeser seldom addresses Buddhism explicitly in her work, but sprinkles symbolic references familiar to her readers throughout many of them. These vows are closely followed by a vivid night-time image of liquid moonlight whose soothing effect speaks for itself.

A tenderness like water
Flows beneath this evening's liquid moonlight.

Icy Solace

As Woeser's poetic reflections further unfold, she touches on the frigidity of separation from her homeland, even while physically present to its transformed and thus unfamiliar landscapes, corrupted at the hands of invaders. So distant is that land beneath her very feet, turned into a shell of its former self.

How should I visualize that place, so distant?
I hear a child's voice lifted in benediction.
The stars impart an icy solace.
Such imagery further reflects the emotional tenor faced by many under diasporic conditions, their identities and innocence displaced and erased into the night sky. Even so, Woeser discovers a sense of icy solace imparted by the stars, out of reach and hence untouched, unchanged, unblemished by the powers that be.

A Cloud, A Leaf

The stationery's pale;
A couple of ordinary words stagger my heart.
Both the content and task of Woeser's writing reflect the juxtaposition of tension and relief. As the poem draws near to its conclusion, her process becomes a focal point of her writing. Having survived the arduous trek of intergenerational trauma, inherited by her from her ancestors forced into exile within their own homeland, capturing her emotions on paper proves a virtually impossible feat. She invokes nature to join her in bearing witness to the ephemeral nature of life, which become all the more apparent to her in diaspora.

I call Heaven and Earth to witness:
Life is but a cloud, a leaf.

Poetry in Diaspora

Poetry in diaspora is a much broader realm of intersecting literary, contemplative, and political strands than we can weave together here, but the work of Woeser and others like her at least offer a glimpse into the lived experience of those who create in the midst of destruction.

In fact, in an era like ours, wherein the fabric of society may appear to be unraveling from multiple angles, creative work such as these forms of poetry may help us trace the threads as they fall apart.

Perhaps by teasing apart these tattered threads, weak and wind-worn, a more sustainable fabric can be sewn together in their wake. To be continued.

Cultivating Compassion - Roots Which Intertwine Through Blossoming of the Mind

Cultivating Compassion

The process of honing a mental quality, often via contemplative practice, is conveyed through the term "cultivation," which stems from the Sanskrit and Pāli bhāvanā, "bringing into being."

Such "bring into being" is similar to the birthing process or germination, but occurs in association with the mind. Citta-bhāvanā, literally "cultivating the mind," is the bringing-into-being of previously unarisen, perhaps latent qualities such as compassion. In the process of cultivation, such qualities, whether compassion or otherwise, are brought forth and made sustainable.

In a similar vein, bodhi (बोधि), which stands for awakening, is sometimes likened to a seed.

The mind of awakening, bodhicitta, is carefully and intentionally cultivated as one would cultivate a garden. Building upon our discussion of extinguishing the fires of selfish intention, we here till the soil of the mind in preparation for cultivating the seed of bodhi.

As an outgrowth of our recent discussion of the bodhisattva's path of practice through cultivation of bodhicitta, the mind of awakening, we delve into some of the nuances of such cultivation, with an emphasis on planting the roots of compassion, thereby treading lightly on earth with intention and care.

Blossoming of the Mind

While its Latin roots convey the meaning "to suffer together," compassion does no further damage, only healing damage already done. Rather than subject oneself to suffering for the sake of suffering or sacrificing one's well-being, a bodhicitta-informed compassion facilitates the recognition that the suffering of one is the suffering of all.

Such compassion is by no means an indulgence in additional suffering, subjecting oneself to another's suffering or taking a burden upon oneself that wasn't already there, but an admission of the inter-relationality already underlying all phenomena. Fires raging in the seeming distance, violence in far-off lands, are all much closer to home than we often wish to acknowledge. The reverberations resound in all directions, and although they may be felt at different times and in different degrees, they ultimately spare no one.



Tracing the roots of compassion to its seedling, we find a realistic and accessible path of practice unfold. In cultivating compassion, one brings the mind into full bloom — out of the closed-off, dark, cobweb-covered corner of its otherwise narrow frame of reference and into the open, into the light, into an expansive mode of relationality. Consider the following clarification for the meaning of bodhicitta in Tibetan.

The word for bodhicitta in Tibetan is sem kye. This literally means “the opening or blossoming of the mind.” It is the opposite of small mind, of self-preoccupation, self-contraction, and narrowness.

— Nyoshül Khenpo Rinpoche

This mind is the very ground one cultivates into an abundant garden, bursting into bloom as bodhicitta (बोधिचित्त), sem kye (སེམས་བསྐྱེད). The process of cultivating compassion unfolds in blossoming splendor, even among previously wilted flowers, lands and oceans marked with scars, communities torn asunder by conflict, so long as the seed of bodhicitta, the mind of awakening, is sustained.



Cultivating such bodhicitta is a radical undertaking, as the course of events has consistently pushed against it. In this sense, cultivating bodhicitta requires swimming against the current.

In order to change the course of collapse, whether in the climate, economy, or political structures that are in the process of collapsing, we need to change the course of our psychology and interrelational ecology, both the mindscape and the systems in which it is embedded, receiving and leaving imprints in cyclic fashion.

Roots Which Intertwine

For a future to be possible, there must be a mass reorientation from the unconscious mode of separation to conscious unification.

The mindset that perceives an individuated existence separate and cut off from its roots, this mindset that has uprooted its source of strength and thus dug itself into a barren ditch, cannot be the mindset that reverses the process.

Such a mindset itself must be reversed through bodhicitta, so that the hole that was dug is re-filled with soil and roots of compassion are regenerated. Such roots, which intertwine rhizomatically across all supposed boundaries, extend deep.



How, exactly, is bodhicitta cultivated? How is compassion to be sustained?