Tag Archives: fear

No Real You

I’d like to encourage you
to stop trying to be the real you.
What would you even suppose that might be?

Someday, notice how you change.
Notice the you that claims to be you when you wake up in the morning,
then notice the you that starts working or doing whatever you intend to do every day,
notice the you that stops for lunch and the you that needed to,
notice the you that watches the clock in order to go back home,
notice the you that greets whatever shares your home that makes it home for you.
Notice the you that eats dinner.
Notice the you that sometimes goes out in the evening to meet with other folks and
Notice how that you differs depending upon which folks you’re meeting.
Notice the you that protects itself from the things you don’t understand.
Notice the you that sheds its height as bedtime approaches.
Notice the you that wakes to pee before you’re done sleeping.

You can detect a different you at these and so many other times each day.
So which one is the real you?

None of them.

I recommend that you give up the idea of even discovering the real you.
It doesn’t exist.
But you can do this…
Write the old you off.
The more you write off all these old yous what’s left is rather precious.
It’s not that you will discover the real you, you will discover that there is no real you.
You’ll discover that our capacity for me-ness is huge and dynamic.
Our identity can continue to grow and grow and grow daily even hourly with the things that we see and discover each day.

I ate some snow today.
No big deal.
But I bet you did not.

The little things that each of us does
can mean so much to us,
and we may not realize how unique they are to us.

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Near Miss

Perpetual near miss,
Histories of near mysteries,
Inner treaties where needies
Share fleeting notions of the ocean
And the waves that nearly missed them.

Sudden dust devils
Struggle down streets
To meet new particles,
New glue:
Breezy memes that seem
Too hungry for more –
Too hungry for me.

You walk up streets
Through some devils.
They unravel,
Fall apart into precious souls
Re-awaking on the ground,
Again.

The feared dark chaos,
Is the sweet white noise
Of fresh canvas,
A tabula rasa
A clean start
You thought you had
Nearly missed.

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Beings Talk

Beings talk o’er tea in my backyard,
(An axe-free zone, you know.)
Without a care we can share our heart
In the yard where beanstalks grow.

Rest assured there was a row
When I first did the deed:
Trading up our holy cow
For the ugliest of seed.

But I would not exchange my lot
For a herd of fat bovine,
While communing in my yard, I got,
And is what I hold divine.

In here
We defy the demons
Of the strangled world
Out there.
We trade in cryptic currencies
And give time a little air.

The calculus of becoming
Is how we count our blessings
And inspirations aren’t exhaled,
But shout, “Credendo Vides!”

Beings talk o’er tea in my backyard,
(It’s an axe-free zone, you know.)
Without fear, here we share our heart
In the yard where the beanstalks grow.

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Meaning

Standing rigid
in the sparkling river
he grips his cup downside up.

Dry and thirsty
he gathers his resolve
and curses cups.

Right it, please, I urge him,
but the message flows off the rim
into to the sparkling river.

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Two Pens, One Book

(for the wedding of my firstborn)

A blank book begins on a pedestal.

Knock it off.

Spill some ink

deliberately.

Life is gloriously messy,

let it know that you are

participating!

Let it know

that you have both shown up

and that your team will make its mark

immediately.

You may not always write big and bold –

but do so now!

Claim this joint territory

with some reckless abandon

while you may,

so that your children will honor you,

and learn that real authority

derives from truth,

and never vice versa.

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Meta Belly Button

I am who we are,
the only I am we all are.

Each of us a prism
arising in the biosphere,
crystallizing in the noosphere.

Oh so aching ready to be
Finally free of fear
that
you are only you
and
I am only me.

July 2008

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Apocalyptic Rhythm

Feigning we’d acknowledge no successor
to the throne of our dimensions,
we would graphically display
the possibilities before us
and pseudo-judiciously
set our course for ever more.

We can run through the jungle.
We’re agile in the woods.
Yet though we know the world is round
we still fall off the edge.

Make us naked,
won’t you, Reason.
Take the Truth and grip us, free us.
Show us with your patience
the sources of the forces
that keep the worlds in ordered spirals
giving credence to your minstrels.

Smooth apocalyptic rhythm,
cast the dragon to the chasm
to raise the blind, rouse our mind
and send us off to school on time.

Our designs failing may deceive us
but new dimensions will receive us.
Have no fear.
There’s nothing here
that left behind should ever grieve us.

June 1987

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