LIFE

afternoon sun

The Turning of Daylight Hours
Brings about the Best of You in the house
Laundry is Done, Dinner is On
Afternoon Steeps the longer shadows of the Sun.

Parental Discretion is Advised…

Some people tell me, “We choose our parents before we are born..”

The idea behind this is, “stop blaming them and learn the lessons they were meant to teach you, and move on!”

The whole thing seems aimed at the foundational piece of work we call “accountability” – meaning, let go blaming externals for your circumstance, and address the only real changes you can make – changes to your self.

So, all in all, a good call, but a strange belief system to get there.

So, if I can indeed choose my parents before I was born, that implies some kind of “catalog” system, where you can choose from a variety of models. Perhaps, “blond or brunette”? Perhaps, “Hungarian or Australian”? Perhaps “angry, moody, creative vodka-drinkers” as opposed to “camouflaged, repressed, white anglo-saxon protestants”?

It’s amazing what this “catalog of parents” might have looked like. Let’s back up here a bit: there’s many assumptions that would have to be in place to “buy in” to this little belief system, akin to the leap we need to make to “buy in” to any religion.

Since we’re “choosing” our parents, this decision-making process must require some kind of brain activity, such as the ability to perceive, see or sense the choices; then the discernment, judgment or intuition needed to make the correct choice, based on the lessons we need to learn; therefore memory cells that hold the lesson plan as well. So, it seems a “brain” of some kind would be needed, long before conception took place, in order to sift through these possibilities and weigh them out.

The Christmas of One

Christmas:

Solitude vs Ceremony.

And you wonder,
somewhere in the
cracks of uncertainty:
who is “Christ” in all this …
if this really, indeed celebrates
the birth of an enigmatic teacher,
then, where-oh-where
is Teacher and Teachings
in this recipe?

The Call of the World

The World has many voices.

We listen to them all.

We believe many of them.

We are pulled, pushed, nudged, awakened, sedated, seduced, mystified, bewildered and entertained by these voices.

We rarely question.

the Quiet Dream

There is a Quiet Dream,
a Small Self that remains un-lived.
A Bouquet of Promises, a Banquet of Streams.

Through the doorway of Internal Self
we glimpse the Eternal Self: beautiful, small,
well-formed, delicately-maintained,
Impeccable in its un-judged perfection.

Heart

We talk about the “heart”.

Do we know what this place is;  do we know this feeling well enough to call it our home?

When I grew up, we were not instructed in the understanding of this.  The only “heart” we knew was the embarrassing crimson blob we’d see on Valentine’s cards from adoring classmates, once a year.   Then, of course, the word was used carefully, guardedly, in relation to romance and those fleeting bottle-of-wine-in-the-meadow moments that often turn into jaded and forgotten memories.

And “heart”, for most of us, became an unknown item on an illegible menu in a cafe whose doors were closed to business.