*International* Poem in your Pocket day-- Moscow report

[Raffi Aftandelian]

Hi all!

Before I get to responding to the other threads (thanks much Filiz and
Funda for your messages; I very much appreciate your openness), I
wanted to share a report.

Ralph, I took your message to participate in (International) Poem in
Your Pocket Day to heart. I wanted to share my experience with this
day.

First off, in my current incarnation, I would describe myself as a
caterpillar morphing slowly into a butterfly-- in real world terms
that means I'm teaching English and interpreting (Russian-English)
right now as I slowly morph into a professional (?) OST facilitator
(among other things). Of course, that begs the question of if I'm a
caterpillar, what/who are my students?

I announced to my students as soon as I could about this day. And
this morning, I took my Stephen Mitchell translation of the Tao te
Ching, opened it randomly to a page and found the following:

Without opening your door,
You can open your heart to the world.
Without looking out your windown,
you can see the essence of the Tao.

The more you know,
the less you understand.

The Master arrives without leaving,
sees the light without looking,
achieves without doing a thing.

I printed this out, then opened my Russian translation of the Tao te
Ching (to another page) and printed that out.

Then I went about my day and tried to read the "poems" to as many
people as possible.

Here is my report of *some* of my experiences:

1. After asking a woman on a escalator as we were descending into the
Moscow metro: "No thank you, I'm not interested."

2. At the reception desk at TNK-BP (TNK is a Russian oil major which
has merged with British Petroleum, now "Beyond Petroleum"):

Listen with great interest. Profoundly moved.

3. Security at TNK-BP:
"Can I see your temporary pass? Can I see your papers? What business
do you have here" (I present
them)

"Now, I hope you understand, sir, that as I am on the job, I cannot
participate in this day."

Raffi: "Yes, I understand, have a nice day"

4. Person who asked to remain anonymous-- we had a conversation that
went so deep, that I listened and took notes for one hour, wrote for
three pages, it challenged some of my deeply held beliefs, AND it was
so personal he asked that I not share what I learned with anyone. (I
had hoped to share his fresh view on life with the listserv)

5. Intermediate level English student at TNK-BP:
We had a profound conversation on the piece of poetry that lasted the
whole 1.5 hour lesson. It ranged on topics as varied as the Kabbala, the
student's son having his pocket playstation stolen and the
metaphysical meaning of that (maybe this was a consequence of him
having stolen someone else's heart?), the importance of meditation, the Law of
Two Feet, and much much more.

More, I never heard the student speak so
crisply and clearly and get to such a deep space with me (and we are
very open with each other). At one point, I had the distinct sense
that we were no longer holding an English class. It was Something
Else.

6. Another security guy at TNK-BP (while with student):
[after expecting some kind of "trick", he listens with great interest
and thanks me.]

7. Another English student:
More profound conversation and then we come back down to Earth-- I ask
how this conversation and International Poem in Your Pocket Day is
connected with preparing for the Reading section of the TOEFL exam.
Leads into a conversation on how we can all learn from Islam, and
"stop the world" with prayer 5 times a day.

8. Exiting the metro, an old lady and a young woman passing out
different advertising leaflets. The old lady makes as if to
semi-listen, the young woman agrees to listen. The old lady listens
and as people pass her on the steps leading out of the metro she
punctuates my poem with the standard thing she says as she gives out
leaflets: "Have a bad back?"

9. Two advanced level English students-- exhale loudly after listening
to the piece. Very deep and very unexpected.

And there was more...

I had the distinct sense that this practice stopped the world as
Castaneda describes it. It was profound and transformative. Each
response from a person seemed to reflect a different part of me.

I sometimes had the sense that with each reading something/someone
died.

I posted the announcement for this event to a Moscow listserv for
expats living in Moscow. And, the only other poem posted besides mine
for this day was a very offensive poem apparently found in the UK in
1751, so offensive (yet darkly funny), I am too shy to post it here (happy to send it offlist).

For me this event was also an experiment in being in one's power. I
told people with a very straight face that today was *International*
Poem in Your Pocket Day. And they believed me...

Ralph, can you tell us where this day comes from? Or did you make it
up?

By the way, if memory serves me, a number of years back as I was
sharing my angst around understanding OST and "believing" in it,
Ralph, you replied, that either I'll find that it works. Or, I'll think it's
garbage (your word) and think up something better.

OST doesn't feel like garbage to me. Yet. : ))

But, I'll say that when it "works", it can sure look like garbage to the
untrained eye!!  : )

And when I think up of something better, I'll let you know. : ))

Learning for the day: found another practice for dealing with internal
aggression  : ))

Each day I think I'm falling off my rocker, teetering at the edge of a
delightful abyss.

And would you believe it, on another listserv (a Christian missionary
in Moscow listserv)-- I saw an advertisement for used rocking chairs.

Maybe I should reply?

Warmly,
Raffi

                          mailto:raffi at bk.ru

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