If there was doubt that each of us is worthy... it's in the moments we least believe that the value of our lives is understood. And then we remember. We remember to pay attention.
When I said I let it go
I passed a judgment to cover myself up.
Apparently it did not work.
As the friend came and said,
with the utmost sarcasm and a heaping spoonful
of modern slang-laden realism,
"Yes, but you loved her, serious.
I mean, you wrote sonnets and shit!
And then you wrote stuff that made me wanna copy & paste."
Indeed. Copy and paste my release for all to see.
And with that the emotion drained from my face. Not sadness. Not happiness. A blank stare on the outside and a ringing alarm inside. The same sound you hear when you hit the "Daily Double". Just acknowledgment that yes, I did. Yes, I am that person. Worthy of receiving such things as I give. And so I shall and I am and I do. Oh it's coming back to me now just how blessed I am. I'm sorry it had passed from view.
See, the routine, looking back, was boring! Holy mother load. Yes, boring. As fake tends to be. She was boring, they were boring, I was boring. The realization gives me the simple smile of the Buddha. Not a smirk. Not laughter. And most important, not hate or emptiness.
This part, now, this is real. This recovery. This smile. This yoga of body and mind. This life.
Thanks universal spirit. Thanks self. Thanks life.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment