Life is precious, fragile and vulnerable. Life is a river, a rock, a tree, life is you and life is me and all those who have been before and all those who are still to come, life is the sum total of what it is all for.
Gazing out amidst the early morning haze I am deeply touched by the reality that life never ceases to amaze....by mid morning things seem a little more clear in my immediate view...not that this is enough to get me through, no.
It is the casting clouds rolling ever by in the afternoon of my life that continue to catch the attention of my soul, and the stare of my eye. One eye feverishly focused upon the fruition that faithfully follows the labor. The fruition of intuition for which there is no earthly substitution and from which it is I build this constitution among the selves that are the foundation of the life that we now seek to lay claim to.
Even as the night falls and the dark casts apsersions upon all that I have viewed in the light of day, nothwithstanding the agony, the pain and the breathe-taking heartache...I must say I find my faith and my will to push on so stimulated this way.
Night-sky, I rail at you, I yell at you and I beseech you to freely give to me that answers to the questions as to the reasons why.....so much in my life came not only to pass but it existed through the death of self over and over again, death beckoning life like the water nurtures the flowers each time it doth rain. Living to die, .........ah, but dying to live......seeking to take what it is I need, yes, but also wanting so much to share all it is that we have to give.
Navigating a narrow nature's walk, beaten path having been abandoned long ago for it is the 'road less travelled' that I so exhaustingly stalk, as I seek to not only talk the talk but to really walk the walk.....standing still before me...the pause of action building to burgeon bravely the calm coming of cosmic conversion carrying me magically forward fundamentally resulting from the tortured test of time's heralded healing. Is is better yet? Is it getting better yet? Transition ticks tempting truth to talk transversly to treacherous trees conversely conveening the crossing of the paths that while resting righteously among each other, joined, yet spacially-separate: succinctly sweetly singing a harmony that the judicious journey provides a backdrop for in the friendly face of all that is my mind's melody of movement mastered minimally yet pracised precisely as to permit the passing of poetic word as it those words evolve enhancingly, entrinsically evermore in the renewing rituals of energized existence existing to evaluate its consequence of being by day, by night, in and out of the soul's shadows of self-survival. Yes..... at long last the beginning of our arrival....born again anew.....this love, this spirit, this being, this me and you, and you, and you, that is us-- that is our mission and our very reason for seeing this all the way through.
Planets of self afloat in a galaxy of grief---grieving all of the old and hurtful experience that *is* leaving.....wonderment----yes: but the essential pattern in the forest of sunlit self cannot rise, cannot move on from here without the echoing cries of woeful woundedness breaking....broken.... caverns of self met, explored and accepted now taking....hearing the softer words that from the heart of humanity are spoken.....break to build, fall to rise, cave to creshendo, stumble to stand, reaching out and reaching in, holding out and holding in, yes, this is hell in the middle of heaven, this is heaven in the middle of hell.......it is the core calling it is the blessing befalling...all that we do know so well....live to die so that you can die to live.
From the arrant open and endless sea, look, look, look at us finding a workable me.....yes in the middle of what seems to be lost, lamented and so lonely....to sail this ocean we had to let go of the shore of the self we knew that waiting after the journey on the other side of self/selves, the other side of the tree that is we is our destined eternity. A tree fell in the forest, that tree was most definately me.....we crashed to the ground void of sound rising up now we are beginning to see just how it is that this tree was meant to stand lost, lost, lost, the reward for which is found, found, and perpetually day after day.....found.
Like the ring upon the tree that is me, there is a coil, a spring a constantly unwinding thing.....As this spring unwinds itself it is leaving the past behind and discovering the painful-joy of self-birthing.
Life is a river, a rock, a tree......life is found in letting your essence abound....void of sound, quiet and free....yes, deep inside, grieving to release the self that is one's destiny....say good morning to the very nature of your existent and defining vulnerability...life is you and life is me... yet it is not merely about our humanity...life is fragile and life wounds and if we neglect to grieve our authentic self we can never retrieve. Life is in me as I am in life and the very nature of this reality means that the essence of self-actualizing is the bitter-sweet-joy-filled-sorrow that is strife: for this is life!
© March 2, 1997 A.J. Mahari
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