We cling so tightly to our truth
that we miss insight,
We long for a world in our image
so we remove different,
We don’t want to be wrong,
so we insult instead.
We don’t want to self reflect,
so we don’t listen.
We; are lost.
Don’t build a monument at the place of your revelation lest it becomes dogma. Rather pitch a tent in honour of the fleeting nature of ‘wisdom’ & the truth that we are but children in the cosmos.
This is the question I have.
How do we find a balance between the commitment we made to have and to hold in sickness and in health and living in an environment that is not good for us? Whether it hurts us spiritualy, emotionally or physically. Perhaps it is as simple as living an environment that does not allow us to evolve. Perhaps it is an environment that does not allow us to be or to become who feel we are meant to be.
Where do we draw the line between loving the other and loving ourselves? When is it ok acknowledge that the other person is failing in their commitment? Failing to such a degree and for such a long period of time, with no sign of change, that I’m absolved from my commitment? That it is then reasonable for me to love myself first and take care of myself first, whatever form that might take.
Or to be even more nuanced: what if we realise that the environment we have planted ourselves in does not allow us to grow and prosper? That it, in fact, has nothing to do with the other person’s possible failings but simply the result of the context in which we find ourselves. Then it is not personal at all. Then asking the other person to change would be cruel since we are asking them to do something that we ourselves have tried and we came to a conclusion that it is not healthy for us. How do we own this fact? When is it ok to go and find a place that soothes us and people who give us what we need?
Or is it our duty to have and to hold?
I suspect that the answer must be an inner one.
Any seed of doubt, any deflection of responsibility or unjustified projection of blame will poison the process and therefore, the outcome.
The wind used its agile hands
grabbing words from my mouth
made it tumbleweed tumbling
across a never never land bridge
to the home of the mute and lost
hoping to bring words to the wise
and silence the all knowing.
In the solitary silence,
engraved in the empty space
between the beginning
the ending of your pause,
my entire world collapsed,
over the edge of the universe.
I’ll turn into autumn leave
blown away by the cold wind
out of sight
where I can decay & die
an unwanted memory
feeding your green shoots
I’m forever speaking
Leaving clues like breadcrumbs
Praying to the nonexistent god
That someone will see
and then find me.
I am illusion, breaking into ad infinitum, splintering across the night sky. Ever shining, ever unreachable.
The bang echoed loudly in the nothingness.
God was dead.
Spiralling into a hundred billion galaxies.
All whispering, God must die so that we might live.
In the exhale I feel the stretch the tear, hear the gun shot snap crack of my ribs as I let go of my heart.