Over the years, a number of editors, after accepting my poems, would eliminate
the initial caps and punctuation from my work. Recently an editor accepted several of my tanka and said it was the policy of their magazine not to use this type of formality. I answered back and told the editor that this practice was what framed my work, which gave it a grounding cord, which gave it my attention and respect.
Looking over the translations of Japanese tanka writers, it’s common to see capitalization and punctuation. To my mind, they give the poem an elegance and a solidity and yes, a memory. I have read many beautiful tanka all written in lower case but to me, they seem to have wings and fly away like balloons without strings.
Back in the early 90′s, I edited THE PERSIMMON TREE where I published not only Japanese poetry forms, but short verse, dreams, meditation experiences and a bit of psychology and philosophy. In the Spring 1990 issue, I wrote two articles that I would like to include here. Even though it’s presently 2011, these two pieces still ring true.
BARAKA: WHAT IS IT AND HOW TO GET IT
Baraka is an Arabic word that means “blessedness” or “divinely inspired.” Many things can have baraka although in these modern times fewer and fewer things seem to have it. [Some exceptions to this are the Japanese arts and products such as wagashi. The Japanese goal is to transcend the physical. The green teas I order from Japan have this quality as to the packaging they come in. Much of the art and crafts I saw in Asheville, N.C. possesses baraka.]
Things around the house can also have baraka. For instance, my husband uses an old spoon that his Sicilian grandmother used for stirring tomato sauce. Somehow his sauce doesn’t turn out as well when an ordinary stainless steel one is used. An aluminum spoon that you get in a detergent box does not have baraka.
Handmade items often have a certain feel to them. The ceramic pot which may not be perfectly round, or the glass vase that is embedded with the maker’s thumbprint may have baraka. Life must be breathed into an object in order for it partake of this quality. The late Nick Virgilio’s old Remington typewriter probably had baraka as must Walt Whitman’s leather back pack. My Mont Blanc pen took about 20 years to develop baraka.
No doubt the poems by Rumi and tagore have baraka. Unlike the traditional Muslims, Sufis embrace the Muse, or Mother Goddess. In order for something to have baraka, it seems that it must be infused with that deep, intuitive, female quality. That which is strictly intellectual cannot have baraka and the Japanese themselves who mistrust Western logic are first looking for a subjective quality which cannot be named before they will even do business with a foreign entity.
The Latin masses in Catholic churches have baraka (this is why people were so upset when the masses were being done in English; something was missing but no one could explain what that something was). You can’t really explain baraka, but you can sure feel it when it’s there, or when it’s not. The Orthodox religions, surprisingly, are growing in numbers simply because the masses being sung in Russian or other tongues.
CANTILLATION
When a writer or artist is in a trance while working (or when one is taken over by the Muse), her poetry often takes on an otherworldy quality. When we’re working in this state, we cantillate. We are close to the Mother God, and when in this altered state we believe that we are loved by the Creator. Dr. John Diamond refers to cantillation as:
Cantillation:
the dedication of one’s life
as a psalm
in harmony with the Pulse of Life.
(from A Book of Cantillatory Poems)
John Diamond, M.D., author of LIFE ENERGY and YOUR BODY DOESN’T LIE, has done much work with haiku, i.e., muscle testing (aka kinesiology) to determine which writers cantillated when they wrote.
When I first met Dr. Diamond in his Valley Cottage office, his room was sparse. Aside from the wooden furniture, there were a few beautiful large seashells on shelves, some haiku books by the early masters and the first edition of Cor van den Heuvel’s THE HAIKU ANTHOLOGY which happened to contain a number of my poems.
I didn’t go to visit Dr. Diamond to talk poetry. He never met me and knew nothing about me and I had no idea what his interests were except from his unique work in holistic healing and kinesiology. As we began talking, he told me that Issa’s work was the only haiku that he found cantillated . His finding on Buson was that, though beautiful, the poetry was contrived.
Australian born John Diamond worked for many years as a psychiatrist who turned holistic practitioner. But he no longer considers himself to be those things. Instead, he facilitates people in their cantillation process and works primarily with musicians.
When I studied with him in 1988, he told me he enjoyed my work in THE HAIKU ANTHOLOGY although it did not cantillate. I wasn’t surprised. If Basho’s poems didn’t cantillate, why would mine? He told me Mozart’s music did not cantillate, that when one listens to Mozart, one unconsciously dislikes their father even if in reality, they don’t. The quality of who we are is transferred to the listener or the reader or the observer and through muscle testing, one can determine the truth about any offering or product (including the seashells in his office which all cantillated).
When I told a group of fellow interfaith ministers at the New Seminary in Manhattan that Mozart’s music didn’t cantillate, they were so outraged they did everything but throw rotten eggs at the podium. It’s hard to conceive that poetry or music that does NOT cantillate can STILL BE BEAUTIFUL.
Should you ever work with John Diamond, you might learn things about your writing that may be difficult to accept. I was wide open to his suggestions from the getgo and considered myself fortunate to have run into what turned out to be one of my most powerful teachers. In turn, he bought my haiku books even if they didn’t cantillate.
In the following article, I write about how punctuation and capitalization of the first word in my haiku got two of my haiku to cantillate. The haiku writers that I have shared this with have not been open to this concept at all–in fact, they unequivocally disagree with something they know nothing about or have never took the time to investigate.
RESOURCES BY JOHN DIAMOND, M.D.:Life Energy Analysis:A Way to Cantillation; the Life Energy in Music, Volumes I and II; A Book of Cantillatory Poems
TO CANTILLATE OR NOT TO CANTILLATE–THAT IS THE QUESTION
When I was a student of Dr. John Diamond, I learned that every person has a cantillation, or activity where they feel divinely “in synch.” Dr. Diamond discovered that my cantillation is indeed haiku although the haiku I had been writing was not cantillating. Let me share two examples so you will understand what I’m talking about.
When I read my haiku “the javelin still traveling,” Dr. Diamond was muscle testing his assistant. Her arm went weak. I chimed right up and said, “But I wrote it in one line because I wanted the poem to look like a javelin.” My ego was getting defensive but he ignored my ego and told me to restructure the poem on paper. I changed it to read:
the javelin:
still
traveling
It still tested weak. I changed it to:
the javelin
still
traveling
Nothing changed.
Finally Dr. Diamond said to try a dash after “javelin” and to try capitalizing the first letter of the first line and end with a period. The poem tested strong when I read it aloud. It cantillated!
Dr. Diamond picked out one of my haiku from van den Heuvel’s THE HAIKU ANTHOLOGY:
Sipping wine / I remember your face / the way it used to be.
(The original poem didn’t end with a period.) It tested weak. “Try singing the haiku as you’ve written it,” he suggested. I couldn’t. It had no rhythm. Dr. Diamond then edited my haiku to read:
Sipping the wine–
I remember your face
the way it used to be.
I told him I didn’t like that comma at the end of the second line. But without it, the piece did not test strong. With it, it was a cantillation. And when he asked me to sing the haiku, I had no problem doing so.
In his compilation A BOOK OF CANTILLATORY POEMS, Diamond says, “The basic purpose of communication is to raise the life energy of the receiver….Prose can certainly raise the life energy but ir requires a greater intent on the part of the writer, the greater decision to open the heart. Poetry…facilitates the heart-opening process.”
Communication begins with our mother, he explained. When we heard her lullabies and felt her rocking us, we were in rhythm, or pulse, of life. When the mother is in this state, she is cantillating and is teaching us what cantillation is. However, few of our mothers were able to give us long periods of this cantillatory love and it’s for this reason, Diamond believes, that we as human beings have difficulty sustaining that level for long. (Working with the inner child through visualization may well help us sustain our cantillation for longer periods of time and surprisingly, women have a harder time holding their cantillation).
A BOOK OF CANTILLATORY POEMS, when read, puts the reader in a cantillatory state. The poetry of William Blake and Lewis Carroll lift our life energy, boosts our thymus gland and balances our immune system. When I need to balance out, I often pick up this book and turn to a random page and before I know it, I’m cantillating (even though I might not care for the style of poetry I’m reading)!
**
Writer Basha Ma interviews Alexis Rotella on Cantillation
Basha: How long have you been using caps and punctuation in your haiku and tanka?
Alexis: About l8 years.
Basha: Do you ever not use them?
Alexis: I’ve let a lot of things go over the years that didn’t cantillate, especially renga. There was no way I was going to force feed someone to do what I think is correct.
Basha: Why is cantillation so important to you?
Alexis: It’s part of my process, my growth. My poetry is a big part of my spiritual life.
Basha: How does that tie in with your work as a practitioner of Oriental Medicine?
Alexis: Well, when I first started working in the healing arts, which was about 30 years ago, I believe I cantillated when I practiced. But when one is striving to earn a living and money enters the picture, it’s a sure way to kill cantillation.
However, now and then I get a patient who is on the spiritual path who also has a serious illness. I find out what their cantillation is and have that person spend as much time as possible playing piano or doing their sumi-e. Dr. Diamond believes that people who are ill don’t need medicine as much as time spent cantillating and I agree.
Basha: So, your every day work is not your cantillation?
Alexis: Not by a long shot. I wish it were.
Basha: What about professional artists or musicians? Do some of them cantillate?
Alexis: Dr. Diamond discovered that if a famous violinist, for example, plays the harmonica at night just for pleasure, then he is probably cantillating. But as soon as he feels he has to perform, to please an audience, there is no cantillation. In fact, the audience, although they may appreciate the performance, is not uplifted by the experience because the performance did not lift anyone’s life energy. Diamond also told me that the musicians who usually cantillate are the unknown teachers of famous musicians.
Basha: So the same thing is true for writers?
Alexis: Yes. If one really wants their work to cantillate, and their focus is on lifting the life energy of themselves and the reader, they CAN make their work cantillate (even though writing may not be their innate cantillation).
Basha: Explain that please.
Alexis: Dr. Diamond, through muscle testing, discovered that haiku happens to be my cantillation even though way back when my haiku did not cantillate.
Basha: Can a person have more than one cantillation?
Alexis: Sure, but most people don’t. One is more than enough. Gardening used to be my cantillation but isn’t anymore.
Basha: What about the writers you know and read?
Alexis: Well, poetry feeds me but it doesn’t necessarily lift my life energy. I can
treasure someone’s poems and hold them close to my heart but they probably won’t contribute to my state of cantillation. If a poet is on a treadmill and needs
to win a contest or needs recognition so badly, that comes through loud and clear. Same holds true for essays or any written work.
Basha: Dr. Diamond told you to sing your work to make it cantillate. Does that hold true for someone who writes an article that lifts one’s life energy?
Alexis: Yes, a newspaper article can cantillate if the person sings it first. IT’s all about rhythm, getting in touch with the pulse of life, the pulse we felt when we were in our Mother’s womb.
Basha: How does punctuation cause cantillation to occur?
Alexis: It’s unnatural to never pause. When we speak (or sing), we take pauses. We are in touch with a rhythm. When the song is over, there is a clean break. The song doesn’t continue. The song has done its job. It has hopefully lifted our life energy. If you sing in church and you sing from your heart, you probably are cantillating. But if you’re in front of a group peforming a capella for an audience, and you are trying hard to impress, that won’t cantillate. Most people, after leaving church, feel uplifted. Probably because of the singing. Their voices weren’t being recorded, although every now and again there is that person with a voice you’d like to stifle who has be the loudest overpowering everyone else.
Basha: Sounds like the ego gets in the way of cantillation.
Alexis: Yes, it does. Because we don’t cantillate just for ourselves. We cantillate for everyone.
Basha: Give me another example.
Alexis: Well, I woke up the other morning and I belted out a tune as my husband was having his coffee. It was a love song which I no longer remember. I may have made it up or it may have been a popular song. I wasn’t trying to impress my husband or myself; I was just singing because singing felt good and before you know it, my husband was laughing and we were hugging and it felt good to see him go off to work feeling so uplifted. But I was feeling great myself. There was no performance involved, no premediation. It was just a spontaneous happening. A great way to start the day. A wonderful way to jumpstart the immune system.
Basha: Is singing one of your cantillations?
Alexis: Probably, but not when I sing for others. I don’t have a musical voice worth sharing. My family used to sing spontaneously. It was one of the ways we communicated with each other. In fact, my husband and I often sing to each other instead of talk. A kind of an opera that no one will ever witness nor one which can ever be repeated.
Basha: You talk about the Muse. Can you explain your relationship with Her?
Alexis: Oi vei. The Muse. Sometimes she doesn’t show up for long periods at a time. When I was devoted to the study of Oriental Medicine and going to school to become an acupuncturist, I didn’t write much. In fact, I put most of my writing on the back burner except for renga with my e mail buddies. None of that stuff cantillated. But it was a break from the usual grind.
When I first began writing haiku, it was a struggle to get it. When I did finally get it, the flood gates of heaven opened and out poured a waterfall of poems, sometimes so quickly I couldn’t copy them down fast enough. That went on for years. I was enjoying myself so much. I was cantillating although the finished haiku that appeared in my first books didn’t cantillate.
Now, in the summer of 2007, the Muse is back after a long respite of about ten years. She has moved in with her valises and she’s a jealous Mistress. Cleaning the house spic and span is not a priority at this time. Neither is working on my social life. Or spending too much time with my family. I’ve cut back on my practice to spend more time with Her. She is the Divine Mother, my first love. She is my pulse. My rhythm.
Basha: Who among the world famous poets cantillated?
Alexis: Quite a few cantillated. I’m speaking of the work of Lewis Carroll and William Blake. If you read Dr. Diamond’s A BOOK OF CANTILLATORY POEMS, they’re in there.
Basha: What about visual work like paintings or sculpture?
Alexis: They either cantillate or they don’t. Not all seashells cantillate. Just because something is made by Nature, doesn’t mean it’s cantillatory material.
Basha: What about the great masters?
Alexis: Michelangelo and DaVinci created works of art that cantillated. However, you can muscle test to find out if the piece cantillates. Most art work depletes one’s life energy. You can investigate further by reading Diamond’s YOUR BODY DOESN’T LIE and LIFE ENERGY. No library should be without those two books.
Basha: Can you just wind this up by telling us a few more interesting tidbits?
Alexis: You mean those bits of information that will cause an uproar and nasty e mails and letters?
Basha: Well, we are living in a sea of egos.
Alexis: Cantillation is all about the Feminine, Mother energy as I stated before. It’s where we first felt the pulse of Life, in Mother’s womb. However, in the Western world, when men look at a woman’s belly, they test weak. One place this is not the case is in India where there is great reverence for the Great Mother. An Indian man can look at a woman’s belly and test strong.
Basha: When a Western woman looks at a woman’s belly, does she test weak?
Alexis: Yes. We in the West don’t bond with our mother at birth. When we were born, we were slapped, pulled out under harsh lighting. Our trip down the birth canal was usually a trip through hell. In India children are put on their mother’s stomach immediately. Some people in this country may opt for a more natural delivery but chances are within minutes of the baby’s birth, they are inoculated and filled with drugs. I could talk for days. But it’s best if I stop now.
Basha: But before you do, can you recommend books by Dr. Diamond that might help us investigate this for ourselves?
Alexis: Sure thing. Aside from the best sellers mentioned before, he has self-published many books including THE LIFE ENERGY IN MUSIC, Volumes I and II, THE REMOTHERING EXPERIENCE (HOW TO TOTALLY LOVE), and LIFE-ENERGY ANALYSIS: A WAY TO CANTILLATION.
Basha: One last quick one. What if we don’t really like our mothers and what if we think she wasn’t really a good mother?
Alexis: We all need to get over how deprived we feel about not having the perfect mother. No mother is perfect except the Divine Mother of which our mothers are a representative. Every mother wanted to be a perfect mother and when we cantillate, what we are experiencing is the Mother principle beyond our earth mother.
Basha: Do you think this information about cantillation will change the way poets write?
Alexis: I’m a realist. No, I don’t. But I want people to realize why I use punctuation and capitalization. When editors insist or ask that I change the format in which I write, I want them to know there’s a reason why I do what I do.
Both women ended the interview with a cup of green tea and the sharing of ideas.
Basha Ma and Alexis have published link poetry that appeared in Lynx. Basha is a fellow holisitic practitioner with an interest in life energy and writing. Basha Ma is not her real name.
(Sorry for the typos — they will be corrected as soon as I have time. Namaste’.
