Sphere

Beautiful sphere, formless form.
Moment by moment of timelessness.
Go ahead and pour yourself into it.
It won't deny you.
All you have to do is pour yourself into it.
It won't reject you.
Just give it what it wants from you,
and it will never turn you away.

It's all right if you let it slip by.
It never runs out.
It's all right if you let it flow past.
It never runs dry.
It's all right if it never takes root.
It always has more seeds.
It guides you gently, and greets you like a friend.
Trust it. It was meant for you.

Some will say it's all a lie.
They'll call you hypocrite. Liar. Joker.
Sometimes you'll be afraid they're right.
You'll be afraid you're wrapping dreams around nothing,
and that the fear will never go away.
That's when you'll see the wonder and terror of it,
but only if you need it.
Hope you'll never need it.

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(Photo credit: "sphere_2720" from Pete on flickr)

Freedom

This is where peace is.
This is where meaning is.
This is where joy is.
It's all there in the play of the mind,
all there in the action and the progress.
You can look for it all you like,
but you'll never find it except in action.
The life you make is the only life you'll love.

And I know it might hurt to hear that.
I know it can be be a pain to hear life calling.
They talk about freedom and responsibility,
and they're exactly right about it.
Freedom is such a heavy responsibility
that there are days when you want to be rid of it.
It's so much work.
It's such a constant, weary struggle.

But you've got to learn to love the effort.
Love the burn. Love the journey.
Listen, I know they sound like hollow cliches,
but they're true. There's life in them.
We only get stronger by fighting resistance,
and our own resistance is the first we encounter.
Entropy always wins. Things fall apart.
But a human being fights against it to the end.

That's what the man meant when he said
"Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
You've got to fight back that part of you that wants to die.
It's a liar. It's lazy. It's not you.
You know that life is worth every effort,
and you know that you always have a choice.
Never let them make you forget it.

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(Photo credit: "Uttarayan (Explored)" from Bhavishya Goel on flickr)

You Already Know What This is About

"Don't be sad because it's rigged,
be happy because you can win."
That's what he told me,
back when he told me things.
Learn the rules, one by one.
See what a million centuries of progress has made.

It's contagious, they say,
and there's no one who can stop it spreading.
They slip it in your drink,
all on the sly.
Or else they slip it into the way
you pay to keep it out of your drink.

It doesn't hurt. Not after a while, at least.
You'll hardly notice it after a while.
Some say you learn to love the way it hurts.
Some say it's fear that keeps you holding on.
(Do you want to know what I think?
No, you don't want to know what I think.)

You're probably getting the wrong idea.
I'm probably not expressing it very well.
Because it's not what you're thinking. Not entirely.
That's part of it, of course. What you're thinking is part of it.
How could it not be?
But it penetrates deeper than that, doesn't it?

The true horror is that even the best of us wants it.
Even the best of us wants to give in to it.
It talks so sweetly, so kindly sometimes,
and promises such blissful dreams.
The real struggle of fighting it
is the struggle to want to keep fighting it.

Because it's a choice at first.
It's only later that it becomes a compulsion.
It only takes the willing,
and it makes good on its promises.
The horror of it
is that it makes good on its promises.

"Don't be sad because it's rigged,
be happy because you can win."
Tell that to a starving child
and smile.
Smile as you hand her a loaf of bread
and shudder if you touch her hand by accident.

"Don't be sad because it's rigged,
be happy because you can win."
When the lights go out,
every woman is the same woman.
(Do you want to know what I think?
No, you don't want to know what I think.)

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(Photo credit: "Photomarathon1" from Joyce Kaes on flickr)

Hole

It's a real pain.
It's a real pain to feel like you'll never make it.
It's a real pain to wonder how you'll find peace of mind
when the whole world wants to wrench it away.
That's a real pain.

It's terrible to worry every day,
to feel like the world is closing in
and your mind has turned against you.
There's nothing worse than being so sure it's too late,
and that all the world has passed you by.

It's as if you've fallen into a dark hole,
and outside of the hole sits a man, smiling down
and saying, "That's not a real hole.
You're just faking it."
Because he thinks you're just faking it.

And it's no good explaining it to him.
He's made up his mind already.
If you're stuck in a hole you decided to be there,
no matter what the circumstances,
no matter what the challenges.

He acts like it's so easy,
I mean, he could never understand what it's like.
The idiot probably thinks you're an idiot.
He probably thinks you just don't get it.
He probably thinks he's helping.

He doesn't know the answers.
He's never felt pain.
He doesn't know what you need.
He doesn't know what it's like.
He doesn't really care.

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(Photo credit: "Hole" from stomas on flickr)

Sing On

Not yet, no little one,
no, it won't end yet.
We'll let you pass, in time,
once we've got all we want out of you.
Not yet, though.

Does it hurt you?
Do you want us to let you go?
Do you want it all to pass?
You'll tell us all, soon enough.
Once we see how much blood you've got...

Are you afraid?
Don't be afraid.
It's only a dance we want, only a song.
Surely you'll dance, won't you?
We know you will.

You've got such a fine voice.
Keep singing, keep singing.
Sing till you're gone.
Sing till we let you go.
Sing till you're not afraid.

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(Photo credit: "Engulfing Darkness" from darkday on flickr)

Vapor

Don't tell me life's not beautiful,
and don't tell me it's too much.
I've heard all that before.
I've heard your nightmares, your horrors,
your worries and your doubts.
I've heard you say, "Just let me sleep!"

I think you wanted to slip out of thought,
out of all that strain and stress.
You wanted it to be simple,
so simple you could close your eyes
and drift, and drift...

You wanted to sleep the world away,
never to have to reach or strain again.
You wanted to drift off on a cloud,
dissolve into dust and breath and vapor,
and never have to think again.
Just like all the rest.
You know how special you are.

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(Photo credit: "vapor" from Tylana on flickr)

Simplicity

See the cloud that forms from a droplet,
the tree that grows from a seed,
and the eagle born out of an egg.
This is the way of the world.
See the rain dissolve the heavy cloud,
the fungus that feeds on the ancient tree,
and age start to wither the eagle's wings.
This is the way of the world.

Simplicity will not last,
and at last it births complexity.
Complexity becomes too much,
and lapses back into simplicity.

You can feel it, sometimes.
(I can feel it sometimes.)
When you see the sunset in clear skies,
and feel your heartbeat melt into the light.
This is what the world is, deep down.
Patternless patterning.
A child locking the puzzle-pieces into place
only to dump the whole thing when it gets hard.

Poor kid. Poor silly kid.

If he only knew how simple it really was.
Lock the pieces in place and you've got a picture,
you know? Simple.
On it's own level, simple as a ripple
spreading out a circle from the center.
None of those awful worries about purpose,
or progress, or practicality.
None of that constant worry that makes existence a drag.
Just a ripple spreading from the center.
Just a child playing at a puzzle.

It's quite complex,
because you can never say it all.
It's quite simple,
because you know it before saying it.

Now, I'm not saying there's any kind of disease
in that kind of thinking.
I'm not saying it's necessarily a problem.
It's only a problem once you say there's a problem.
And once you've decided there's a problem,
God help you if you suddenly decide there's not one...

It's an unfolding process.
It's activity and passivity.
Simplicity and complexity.
Feeling and thought.

See the cloud form from a droplet,
see the skies beyond
and the bright stars above.
Feel what formed them.
Feel what they are.

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(Photo credit: "Ripple" from ReflectedSerendipity on flickr)