When I Stop Comparing

"When I stop comparing and 

allow myself to be ordinary...

I taste a piece of eternity."

May the grace of no comparing (or competition)

be bestowed upon me...for they are deeply

etched into my psyche.  I wish I could

reach in and unravel them from 

their tightly woven pattern

in the neural pathways of my brain.

I wish there was a tool or an app for this.

"...by accepting the assignment,

which is to beautify and repair

our own small corner of the world."

How's this for a reason to keep things tidy?

At least reasonably well cared for.

The biggest challenge for me is 

knowing what to repurpose in some way 

and what to discard because discarding

feels like damaging Mother Earth.

"...I am stained...with the evidence 

of my delight in these daily rituals

that can never be washed away,

the ordinary being at least one

gateway to the holy."

I love, love, love the belief that

the ordinary is a gateway to the holy.

Especially as I've been known to grumble

inwardly about some of these "daily rituals".

I've also breathed giant sighs of graitude

for others, like this one, that enhance

my life in countless, invisible ways.

Note: Crew's poem brings this quote to mind.

“Eternalism is the belief that everything that is, has been, 

and will be exists right now and forever, all at once. 

Presentism is the belief that only what exists in the present exists at all.”

― Lily King

 

Be Yourself

Aren't we something?

So ridiculous and amazing all at the same time?

Who in heck is doing all the heavy lifting?

Let us train our sights on the beauty so often

lost in the absurd of it all.  

Put yourself first/Don't be self absorbed.

You are a tiny, tiny, tiny drop in an endless ocean/

You are everything and everywhere. 

A see saw of opposites forever shifting...

back and forth; up and down, inside and out.

I'm doing my best to enjoy the ride since

I won't be getting out alive.

There has to be at least as much to smile about 

as there is to weep over, right?

Spinning wheat into gold, 

is my course of action

for as long as I'm here and 

my spinner is functioning.

 

The Rage You Are Feeling

It sometimes feels as though rage 

is the only item in my backpack, these days.

At least, it lives very close to the top of the heap...

igniting at the most innocent of happenings.

Continually reminding myself of this could

save much turmoil and unnecessary heartache

caused by misguided emotional outbursts toward innocents.

There are alternatives...going numb being first in that lineup;

which we all know is no real solution.

How do you tiptoe gently into rage?

How do you let yourself feel the full fury

without being consumed by it?

How do you stand in the center of the volcano

without destroying yourself and others?

"You have known hope and joy and kindness

like you have known water and justice

is a river [who] demainds you do not give up on it."

 

Questions

 

I Will Not Wave A Flag

This is long....

worthwhile if you have the time available to slow down and read.

"Beyond attachment to flag and country, beyond identity and faith,

...here we are swimming in the one pool of possibility,

made from the one cell."

I can lose this mindset so easily.  Before I realize it, I'm

this label, and this label and that category...I do it to myself!

"I am, first, a citizen of the heart dwelling in the house of flesh."

All of us simply breathing, bleeding bodies living out whatever time and place

we landed in on this planet...sharing the same air, the same water,

the same ground, the same universe.

"If you insist on waving a flag, let it be exceptional in its width. 

In the eyes of [the Unknown] there are no favorites.

...Forget superiority and comparison."

It means including everyone and everything.

Why do I find that so unappealing...at least on one level...

very appealing on another, but darn...people need to learn how

to treat each other properly...with dignity, ideally, or if not...with decency.

"If you insist on having an identity, let it be of bone and blood. 

Let your song be equal parts praise and grief, and awe. 

How I love the recipe for singing as 

equal parts praise, grief and awe.

Mine wants to be gratitude, sorrow, and astonishment.

PS:  Hats off to you if you made it through this entire piece.  

No worries if you didn't.  

May the Force be with you always.

 

The Saddest Thing

"...stuffing the things that make you most you."

I'm fortunate to be in the company of people who do no such thing.

They are wise and open and themselves in all their messy glory

and it is beautiful.

"leaving the mud, the soil, the seeds, the sea of what's here."

This is where they live. 

River people, seed people, bird people, plant people, book people,

warm hearted, compassionate, generous and kind.

Luxuriating in all of it.

"...holding in the holy rather than letting it breathe..."

The holy is a warm breeze surrounding them, 

like a cloud emitting a fragrance of fresh air and flowers, 

It is a pleasure to be in their company.

 

I Grow Tired

"Now is the time for foolish hope, for outrageous courage, 

for a belief that each of us holds a piece of the rope to freedom

if only we would tug it in earnest."

Oh for a rope...an actual rope, hanging within reach...

within literal reach for our weary earnest tugs...

I'd settle for a gong we could all sound simultaneously...

Our vote is our tug on that rope...

our vote is our sounding of the gong...

"...to rage against these feeble tyrants,

...until the water flows calm and even once more

over the face or the earth."

Call out to whoever or whatever you believe in...

or don't believe in...

that they may contribute to our cause.

Together we are a mighty force.

It's time for a recalibration.