I would rather be
a poor man
with a rich soul,
than a rich man
with a poor heart.
I spent a good portion of last night, mooring with the tide, tied to emotions, most of which surely weren’t mine to suffer, though, like a good little buoy I did all I could to stay afloat.
But what causes a man to harbor such feelings of faithless dread.
Sympathy? Empathy? Selfless, selfishness?
Isn’t it funny how even when no one asks us to suffer, we often choose to suffer.
Could it stem from guilt? Plausible, though I think not. Depression? No, because I could still move. Trauma? Not in this case, as it had nothing to personally do with me.
Perhaps than maybe deeper, beyond the physical self, far from age or reason, like roots grown deep within the soil, always there yet invisible to the naked eye.
So then what?
Let’s take the current state of society in which the mind is placed.
We are and always have been reactionary beings, jumping to conclusions without fully taking the time and energy to understand or explore where these irrational compulsions come from.
So the year is 2020 and we are still at one another’s throats.
Not a day goes by that I don’t get a phone call whether or not I am willing to vote. Not a day goes by that I don’t see one side of the argument ready and willing to cut the other’s throat. Not a day goes by where I don’t get the impression that peace is just dependent on war, like an inside joke I just don’t get the humor.
So it’s within this grey area that I swim where both sides of the equation continue to expel these deep seeded emotions from within.
Had it not been for the open minded, tirelessly educated guidance and good nature of a mother, I may have gone another way years ago, though still I stay afloat while the undertow continues its torment.
So it seems here, now, in the mornings clean light, where all that I can do is observe—in nature that surrounds—human nature take its course.
I know who I am. And I know my intentions are good. Sometimes our actions speak louder than words but for most of us, words just don’t seem to be heard.
But that’s no reason to destroy what you can’t control.
So for those who cannot express or explain this current state of extremes we face both alone and together, I suggest this: be a beacon of hope.
Because what we know today, with or without our help, will surely change tomorrow.
So even in my darkest hours, I know, hope will never falter, light will find a way, and tides will turn, if not now, then surely another day.
I have more faith in
the man who picks my fruit
than the man who
questions it Organic.
Let today be a reminder
and we the people
bleed as one, heal as one
and mourn together
for a better tomorrow.
What I saw that day, my mind insisted were people,
running back and forth—silhouettes—they were equal.
What I saw that day, I just couldn’t conceal
their shape was mine, it almost didn’t seem real.
See original thought comes before the prequel,
because the love we’re born with exists before evil.
What I saw that day, sure I know they were people,
while my beginner’s mind worked, I couldn’t help but feel
—their heart’s skip beats—my heart was healed,
by what I saw that day on a beach filled to equal:
coexistence at birth, we’re miraculous people.
As important as it is to be informed, it’s just as important, if not of further importance to distinguish between what information you allow in and what information you choose to put out.
Feeling pain is not an excuse to cause another pain.
Feeling slighted is not an excuse to slight another person.
The news and media are valuable resources to acquire current information but the information gained from the news and media is not an excuse to promote ignorance and intolerance—or for lack of a better metaphor: one side of the coin—without further, more definitive research.
I don’t claim to know everything and I have come to terms with the fact that I never will.
I’m no a saint.
There has and always has been social injustice and sorrow in the world and I can’t change that. All I can do is choose a righteous path towards consciousness.
The anteater will eat ants to survive as the hawk will hunt ground squirrels and field mice. The spider will spin a web to catch the fly. The fly will feast on feces to survive. The feces will decompose into the soil and a tree will grow.
Nature always finds a way.
Human nature is an entirely different phenomenon.
It’s a common theme between civilizations to find balance and order between extremes. Love and hate. Fear and faith. War and peace.
Each and every day this phenomenon is in question—human nature. The hawk does not see the field mouse as a hawk. The hawk sees the field mouse as prey. The field mouse does not see the insect as a field mouse. It sees it as prey.
Nature operates without question.
It is human nature to ask why. It is human nature to consider the consequences of our action. It is human nature to consider what is right, wrong, and just, then decide.
Either way, the tree will grow.
Either way, the prey will die.
I’m not asking for you or I to be a saint, I’m just asking you to consider another way, a way in which I’m sure you deal with like I, each and every single day.
What I suggest we all consider is this: walk gently, and spread love.
Love is a universal concept.
Hate is a creation of the mind as a defense mechanism.
Hate, is a creation of man.
With all the information that history, news, and media has so far presented us with, what’s stopping us from immediately choosing love as a means to an end of irrational hatred which like wild fire spreads without care or concern or reason?
Tonight I’ll lay my head down, as tomorrow I’ll rise and move forward with peace, love, and understanding.
And it will be easy because I’ve chosen to surrender.
Taken out of context, the idea of surrender is often considered as a form of defeat but not in this case.
The battle has already been won, so when we realize there was never a battle to be fought, surrender to this man is essential for future understanding.
It’s a shouting match, Liberty song
It all depends whose side you’re on
An 80’s flick, a telethon
The donors can’t afford
A peaceful march is a riot for
The higher ups keeping score
A father dies, a baby’s born
To a family torn apart
A mother cries out for her loss.
A brother vows vengeance.
Humanity what have we done?
Another brothers grave is dug.
It’s a quick escape, getting drunk
Do what you can, never enough
It’s a 90’s jam, a slogan sung
To another civil war
It’s a house of cards, a hand of fate
A demonstration turns to hate
It’s a feeling I just cannot shake
It takes all I’ve got to watch
Wake me up when it’s all over.
That’s no longer good enough.
It’s getting harder to be sober.
With history books full of blood.