Love’s Gate

 

Head over heels in love, you say? That’s not for me.

I could never lose myself like that. Handing over the keys, only to have my emotions manipulated, dragged about, and slammed down because I’m too naive or at my most vulnerable.

Preposterous.

I prefer the silence of a room where I can at least spin out a decent fairy tale. Or where the music consumes me within the arid spaces between each raindrop.

Love is too biological and scientific and cynical for me. A titanic debt incurred because of eternity’s progressively more dangerous gambles. A constant prod reminding us to remove ourselves before the next generation overtakes us.

No, I’m too smart for any of that.

I won’t let love’s decay permanently contaminate me. Nor will I knowingly act out a temporary charade, where everyone is gone before we know it and everything that we hold dear is trashed before our eyes.

Ah, yes.

Such are the lies that I’ve always told myself. Such are the scripts that have directed my nightmares.

The years have not been kind.

And I have grown old.

But not too old to realize that you have sutured many a ruptured heart. And that you have tried, many times, to heal mine too. For that I am forever grateful.

And so I am left here, braced and waiting, believing that your love alone is real.

Peace

Copyright 2018

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Moments

 

Even wrapped within the eternity of this moment, we are reminded of our limits.

Every step taken, asleep or awake, either presses us forward or signals back encouragement to the bitter agents of our own despair.

Today is a seductress – like every one before it – tempting us with its fruits of boredom and numbness and retreat. We needn’t partake but rarely do we resist, for a garden is still a garden and we too often fear for our next meal.

How prolific is our youth in the face of ultimate doom.

How ironic our surrender so long before we die.

Peace

Copyright 2018

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In Equilibrium

 

Ease gently back into the day and begin, now, to set your world to rights.

Our passions seek us out before our hearts can move us, and long before our heads will ever understand. But we are a most formidable presence whenever we engage the heart without forsaking the head.

Mindfulness is an art to be cultivated and practiced and enthroned upon our passions. And in this equilibrium, strength and purpose and movement forward can more readily be unleashed.

Only then might we discover all that we are capable of and who we were meant to be.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Morning Light

 

Having grown weary from the light, we instinctively scramble to engage the darkness. We suspect that great and awesome mysteries still abide there, all within our reach, all waiting to entertain us.

We are so very tired.

Deprived of sleep and short of judgment, we too often rely upon the day’s boredom to muscle us through one more time. Until at last we can drift away, anxious for morning but hopeful, still, that the sun’s caress will make things appear different and steadier and clearer.

And so we are given another season, another chance, to absorb the surgings of the day and to respect the surrenderings of the night.

One more moment to observe, and to learn, and to rise above.

These gifts abound.

Peace

Copyright 2018

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Kindness

 

Kindness is not some bubble gum expression of humanity.

Rather, it flows directly from the inner workings of our soul and reaches out to others in empathy, however briefly. Yes, it’s true that kindness is often trapped within a false hope. A hope that even our single gratuitous act will one day be returned in kind, particularly at a moment of extreme vulnerability.

Yet we seem to know, instinctively, that what we send out may well be thwarted before its return. Or, if returned, distorted beyond all recognition and gratitude.

But we can accept that. For it remains within us, through some communion on the other side of time.

Ultimately, that’s what engages our individual humanness, if not our shared humanity. It’s why we can yet again offer our humble prayers and loving thoughts to that stranger on the news who has been devastated like some twenty-first century Job. Or when that far away child we will never meet takes his final breath because others may have decreed it to be so.

Kindness knows no physical or emotional barriers.

Yet kindness represents but a single ounce of our still unfathomable but entirely distinct one full measure.

Peace

Copyright 2018

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Soft Beauty

 

Secretly, silently, reverently.

I walk through the mundaneness that carries me through the day, hoping to peel away a few layers that have hidden the soft beauty of my world. Most times, I get too easily distracted by the barest scent of change, or by the unreflective prattle bearing down on my mind.

But today is different.

Today, I will mindfully try to slow it down and look more closely at myself, who I am, and what I was meant to be.

And I hope to remind myself to latch onto everything that envelops me as if I were still a child, always impatient for the world to reveal its secrets to me for the very first time.

Because, really, I am that anxious child still.

Peace

Copyright 2018

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Ancient Promises

 

Walk with me now, back to the earth, and let your lungs fill with ancient promises.

Hidden just below the surface are the eternal roles for which we were auditioned, from first breath to last.

Ever mindful of our place, we know that what has come before will never be again, and what has yet to be was never promised.

And yet we remain curious creatures who create and deadened disrupters who destroy. Like the gods rendered in those old locked away stories, our jealousies and weaknesses fuel our desires as often as they rouse our enemies.

We know the ending well.

Perhaps too well.

Always there is one more bargain, always there is one more attempt to derail the furious narrative.

And yet the very things that can move us beyond hope, that just might inch us towards some higher ground, remain forever untouched and cluelessly unrecognizable.

It’s time to take a step back.

It’s time to unearth those ancient promises.

Peace

Copyright 2018

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Move On

 

Slowly, deliberately, mindfully, enthusiastically.

There’s a gate through which you will pass today

whether you are ready to enter it, whether you are not.

And it closes suddenly, without warning, all at once.

You can’t go back. But why would you want to?

You no longer exist there. No one ever does.

So move on my child.

Move on.

Peace

Copyright 2018

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Unconditional Silence

 

Having once been tempted to embrace unconditional silence, I quickly found myself made scarce among the shadows of earth’s darkest hallows.

A frightening foreshadow of death, perhaps.

Yet in reality, a wholly sane and natural response returned to those brave enough and absurd enough to even try.

But unconditional silence never equates itself with death – for death has yet to fully acquaint itself with silence. We, as well, should never mistake the two, for they are not one and the same.

They never have been.

Silence, understand, is nourished anew through our very mortality and by our most sincere desires finally made known. And though we may breathe in of the earth most deeply during the spaces held out between each silence, we grow most intimately in its wake.

So unearth, now, the unconditional silence of being – even if we must, in the end, perfectly entomb ourselves within its depths.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

 

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