Hallelujah

This world is full of conflicts and full of things that cannot be reconciled. But there are moments when we can… reconcile and embrace the whole mess, and that’s what I mean by ‘Hallelujah.’
– Leonard Cohen

Truth and beauty lie in the abandoned – the thrill of promise in a pier. Treasure flows in streaks of timeless oxidation or a claw flung upon the sand. An imprecise arrangement of debris teases elegance, while perfection arises from a palette of abstraction – of blues and orange and deepest black. Organic whisperings of transformation – await the Hallelujah.

The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.
– Isak Dinesen

While the Zen of metaphors alone may not realign your chakras or secure world peace, metaphors divine you closer to the truth. Still, it may take a blend of sweat, tears or the sea to garner insights – to illuminate the yet unknown. Once a Buddhist monk, it took Leonard Cohen 2 years to write his spiritual anthem – 80 verses distilled to 6. “I filled two notebooks and I remember being in the Royalton Hotel (New York), on the carpet in my underwear, banging my head on the floor and saying, ‘I can’t finish this song.'” To which we now sing – Hallelujah!

The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore.
– Vincent Van Gogh

Last night just before downloading Bob Woodward’s new book at 1:30 am, I act on an urge to revisit Gandhi, the 1982 epic biopic that won 8 Oscars. I can immerse myself for 3 plus hours (I calculate) in a spiritual journey with the small Indian man who inspired the world with his humility, determination and non-violent resistance – all before dawn. What better way to prepare for 422 pages of revelations I’m eager to read by the Pulitzer Prize winning journalist from the Washington Post? From simplicity and moral example to –

Meanwhile I conjure up Margaret Bourke-White’s image of Mahatma (great soul) wrapped in a homespun loincloth, sitting in the half-light by his spinning wheel. And before I know I’m in the Ashram in Ahmedabad. It’s 1930 and I march behind Gandhi 240 miles barefoot to the Arabian Sea alongside tens of thousands of Indians to protest British rule. We make salt from seawater in defiance of the Salt Act of 1882 prohibiting Indians from collecting or selling salt. Forced to buy the essential mineral from their rulers, they are further burdened with a heavy tax imposed on the salt. When Gandhi is arrested, the British-led Indian police beat the waves of non-violent protesters with clubs. American journalist Webb Miller breaks the story and sets off an International outcry. When Gandhi is released from prison, the British recognize they cannot suppress him or ignore his impact. In exchange for a role to negotiate the future of India’s independence, Gandhi agrees to call off the satyagraha. “You have been guests in our home long enough,” he says, “now we would like you to leave.” During the course of the Freedom Movement, Gandhi undertakes 17 fasts, (the longest lasting 21 days) to rally millions of Indians to non-violent non-co-operation. “When I despair,” he says, “I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it – always.”

Truth is by nature self-evident. As soon as you remove the cobwebs of ignorance that surround it, it shines clear.
– Mahatma Gandhi

In a time in history (I hope it will soon be history) whirling with chaos and rawhide conflict, I gravitate toward the arts of wisdom – creativity and spirituality. Not the dark arts of cover-up. As always I praise the investigative and intrepid – journalists and artists willing to reveal.

You may say I’m wandering. And you’d be right. I always wander to find my way – metaphor by metaphor. Whispering to whispering. From a foggy beach in Bolinas and a pier in Sausalito, to a hotel room in New York (bypassing Washington) then a thousand miles by train across India to the seashore. It’s like spinning homespun thread to weave from place to place with the salt of determination. A relentless quest for truth and beauty with a string of Hallelujahs.

Only now as I near the end of this meander, I realize today September 21 (now yesterday) is International Peace Day (a UN sanctioned holiday) and Leonard Cohen’s birthday. So before today slips into tomorrow, I’ll take a final run through and send this off to you. And to keep the spirits lively, I’ll sink into Cohen’s golden song – in search of the secret chord. Hallelujah!

Peace is its own reward.
– Mahatma Gandhi

HALLELUJAH

Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the Name in vain
I don’t even know the Name
But if I did, well really, what’s it to you?
There’s a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn’t matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah…