Just Another Miracle

There is always a miracle to see when you look closely enough

The Purpose of Life?

Lately I don’t write. I’ve been waiting for something new to say. Even my insights are old. I’ve had them before but forgotten them. Sort of..

Maybe the most important things need to be said again and again but I am bored and tired of repeating myself, tired of life repeating itself. Inside I feel a quiet sadness. I begin to get up with an idea in mind; a task, project, or chore, but then-sit down again. It seems that so much of my life is about distracting myself from the discomfort that comes when I sit quietly doing nothing. This is the hard thing. Just to sit. 

Retired I have time to do what ever I choose. In the past my drive was always to have fun and make myself happy by obtaining pleasures. So many things are enjoyable: travel, social interaction, making or viewing art, music...reading a good  work of fiction or a poignant poem. A delicious meal. Sex. Animated conversation improvised with another. All forms of entertainment. Working..working out.., writing. 

Being a father has been the most demanding and satisfying experience of my life. My heart feels filled when I think of either Sam or Ben. But they are on their ways to their own futures and I must reinvent meaning and purpose to my life. So much of which has been devoted to self growth, healing, awareness, the journey to awaken spiritually and develop the ability to hear clearly what spirit wants me to do which in turn will fulfill my souls longings. I need to feel like I am contributing to the well being of others. And not just in the kind and warm ways in which I interact peaceably with people, but in something, some product or service I can provide. There are no shoulds yet I want to feel some passion. I want to feel enthusiastic about life, about my own life and create a purpose to strive toward. Maybe helping to teach others how to love themselves. This could be my goal and they say we teach what we need to learn. I want to do  something worthwhile that benefits others. Is writing this...that?

Is this loving myself right now, this taking of the time to unfold my thoughts and ponder my direction. If I really lean into this malaise I can feel more deeply, the sadness underlying it. I can see the person I wish to be. What keeps me from choosing to be that person full time instead of randomly erratically. What am I afraid of?

I have always opted for leaving my self a way of opting out. When the going gets tough I often go another way. I have rarely made more than a brief commitment, heart and soul. Perhaps it not in my cards to know clearly what the driving force in my life is. Maybe I am meant to wander and wonder aimlessly until the fat lady sings and takes me to her eternal bosom. One thing that I do know is that I do not know or I am not willing to choose any long term goal. Have I ever? When was the last time I engaged myself ferociously in challenging myself in a way that requires the discipline to come back to the work, whatever it is until the work is done?  Don’t know. Well, maybe I do. I am committed to the seeking, to this idea of prospecting for unknown untold treasures that somewhere await me. It sounds like a fools errand; the musk ox searching for the scent which comes from itself. 

I am the victim of my uncertainty but also the perpetrator. . I have bouts of despair but I have learned ways of getting away from that. There are a thousand different ways to busy myself. As Rumi has said, there are hundreds of ways to serve God, many ways to pray. It occurs to me I’m praying now.

In serving myself I must serve a greater power and have a greater purpose than simply obtaining the next enjoyment in my life. Sometimes, nothing is the hardest thing to do. To sit and notice the relentless formation of thoughts that slide and swirl through my awareness. All this noise. If it would only cease for a few moments, I could be with, connect with that bird on the fence who appears to be doing...nothing.

2013 let the year begin

2013  LET THE YEAR BEGIN

my son ben just left to take a walk. he said, he was going to see Nugget. Nugget is our family dog who died last year, prey to coyotes. we found what was left of him. it was terrible to see. 

ben has a vast heart, 

big enough to hold the whole world,

i admire this boy, my son

perhaps more than he’ll ever know. 

tears are falling for me

from me,

tears to ease the loneliness and fear

i so often entertain. 

the boys are home for holidays and soon 

they will be gone,

again.

this house will become far to big 

for me to fill,

in the empty rooms and corners of rooms,

this sadness will abide,

what a sad poem to start the new year with,

i would like this to be the year of absolute truth for me

i want to know fully who i am

i want to overcome my insecurities

i want to come together with my selves

become one

complete, whole, powerful and confident

and..

brave enough

to be invulnerable

to the opinions of others

i want to to remain always true to myself

i want to live large

joyfully, adventurously..

i want to manifest these dreams

i’ve dreamt forever, 

i want to move with ease and grace

through all sorts of situations

and people, 

i want to stand behind my boys and watch

and be there so they know always

that their father has their backs,

sure i’d take a bullet

in my last heart beat I would. 

at this time, all i can do is watch

and love them

just like any other parent. 

what if, i felt this strongly about my self?

what if i loved myself this ferociously?

there would be no more doubting. 

i would not be alone ever. 

i would be whole

complete

the conflict over. 

let peace preside 

now

let peace preside at the beginnings

and at the endings

and throughout the entirety 

of my life

let this be the year of doing

all things from being

anchored deeply and securely 

the calm of me being

that’s all,

all that i want 

to be.

Amen_

underneath all the drinking, under neath all addiction, it’s the thinking that is the real culprit. We are addicted to thinking and thought interrupts awareness...steals it away from simply observing.

observing results in full presence , an immersion into whatever is attended to...

the cessation of the mind, of the thinking mind is what we all want, replacing it with the aware mind, one that can experience deeply the changing events, situations, stimulations, and interactions in the world.

the ear and nose and tips of fingers become more alive, 

body feels itself

 and suddenly we are born back into the phenomena we come from

cessation of thought leaves awareness 

and 

the heart rejoices, 

singing 

“I am alive! It’s so good to be alive.”

It’s the true fulfillment your soul longs for,

the deepest, truest part 

of you. 

GUN CONTROL OR LOVE ..LACKING

Gun Control or Love.. Lacking?

In the wake of the Connecticut killings there is, an emotional and particular outcry  of injustice in that most of these victims were young innocent child (their whole lives ahead of them). Although it is an obvious tragedy to have these lives cut so short, is it a lessor tragedy when large numbers of adults are murdered? I ask this question because I, like many of us, seem to have more compassion and outrage when bad things happen to children then when they happen to adults. But-from a spiritual stance, aren’t we all just children...children of God? 

I find I don’t have much patience or compassion for adults when they screw up. They should know better by now, I usually think. Yet, I know that’s not realistic. Since we all came from childhoods

less than perfect we brought with us the wounds, the neglects, and the abuses  of our innocent past. We who survived the hard often cruel experiences of “growing up” have done so in large part by desensitizing ourselves to our own pain and the pain of others. But carry a dead child in your arms, or the family dog and the whole world feels empathy. 

I think that’s wonderful. And I think it’s a problem though, that we don’t have the same ready compassion for grown ups. Personally I don’t feel as freely compassionate with my own self as I do for children and pets. Why is this? Why is it so easy for me to judge and condemn myself for not being better, for not having or doing more?

It appears to me that children dying young and violently touches our hearts, that place in us that feels love and concern for others, for life itself. But what of the millions of soldiers, adults deemed collateral damage (what a farce that term is!), homicides, suicides, addicts, and the depressed adults of our affluent modernized culture?  Why stop at children? Why not be up in arms at the abuse of arms no matter who or how many killed? Why not be up in arms at violence and the causes of it at all times? 

It seems to me that most of us don’t know how to love others or ourselves adequately. And that lack of love is a hurt that wounds us all. And wounded, with or without intention, we wound one another. Hurt people hurt people. 

a good poem conveys volumes of wisdom

in very few words,

i like simple poetry

that i can understand with one reading,

i’ve decided that anything complicated is simply untrue, 

or at best, irrelevant,

  I appreciate activism and at times give in 

just to show my support 

but I’m older now

and like many of us

am deciding that changing, 

correcting, improving, and making myself a better place

to live, will do more to change the world 

than all the impassioned outward action in the world, 

everything I need to know

for guidance, 

can fit comfortably on a bumper sticker:

be the change you wish to see

embody your knowledge

trust in a loving universe

awaken from the illusion of our separateness

if,  or when I stop altogether

interfering, sabotaging and postponing enlightenment

by ignoring my souls patient, relentless voice

calling me to the highest life i can live..

oh boy, won’t that be the beginning of a 

deliriously joyous adventure.