Healing

Like a child sent to his room

I’m stuck staring, blindly

thinking about what I’ve done.

Because I’m still healing, I mean

it’s really no excuse except to acknowledge how

I’m just like everyone…

I allow the teachings of the past to help guide my future.

After a good, long day of self reliance, sleep, and in depth personal analysis, I am left with this thought.

What you do from here on out is your own cross to bear.

Though like a broken record I’ve continued to circle in place.

But why?

Einstein said, “insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

Well, though I agree I’m no Einstein, I’m not insane, I’m just a bit of a slow learner.

See, the hardest pattern to break isn’t necessarily the pattern but the mission so to speak.

We’re all on our own personal mission, aren’t we?

And whether or not we choose to accept it, it exists.

It’s taken many years through trial and error, deliberation, and self reliance to understand.

Carole King said, “you’ve got to get up every morning with a smile on your face and show the world all the love in your heart…”

Carole also had two children by the time of her divorce and continued to create with love and compassion.

So what’s my personal mission? And what’s yours?

Will we rise tomorrow with faith and gratitude in our hearts or repeat the same patterns that no longer serve us?

Olmec said, “the choices are yours and yours alone.”

But of course we all need a few humorous anecdotes to help us get through.

And I will, as will you.

Tomorrow, reach a little further than you did today. Try something new and show the world the love in your heart. The choices are yours.

And I’ve built my cross, one which I’m willing to bear.

It’s a heavy son of a gun, but I assure you I’ll be walking, hand over foot—that which does not kill us, makes us stronger— like Nietzsche once said.

magic eight balls

I know I couldn’t have seen what I saw,

but I know I saw it anyway.

An old man, waving, his hair as gray as ash,

his beard trimmed short, a weathered Yankee cap,

his eyes like magic eight balls, googling my senses

causing me to stop and turn, knowing

I’d imagined what couldn’t be. But the mind

doesn’t have to play by any rules

that aren’t of its own creator,

like those magic eight balls whose advice

never really did make much sense,

whose questions we never truly sought to answer.

Yin and Yang and Me

I had this friend
who did nothing all day long

and this other friend
who never stopped moving.

So all day long
I sat and wondered about these two,

like wings of a dragonfly
my mind raced back and forth

up and down
turning them over like a pair of Jokers,

all day long,
sometimes, all night even.

Pacing back and forth
I never stopped moving

contemplating everything
which turned into nothing.

One for the romantics.

Watching myself
estranged
through the eyes
of passerby
I,
get this question
all the time.
Why?
Why here?
Why this place?
Why not New York, or
somewhere far, far away –
the kid checking me in to
Planet Fitness doesn’t quite
understand why I’m here –
I know this because
I’ve been there, and there,
more places really than I care
Philadelphia, New York, San Diego
and what did I find?
People!
Yes
people,
glorious people,
who like I
wished to know why?
We romanticize
the lives that are not ours.