Reflections

I Listened… No more.

I took my own advice for once. I shut up. I stopped whining about my own life and opened myself up. I listened. Really listened. Wondering what to expect next from this seemingly endless and pointless existence…

I heard waves lapping at shorelines, and creatures moving in the seas…

I heard birds singing loudly, as breezes rustled through the trees.

I heard all sorts of animals creeping through the grasses, and insects buzzing around my head.

And the trees…. The trees reaching deeper with their roots as if trying to hang on.

All life around me, in exaggerated style, doing what they do as if they wouldn’t in a while.

I felt an edge, an urgency to everything they did. Moving so deliberately…

and then.

As one, almost, a collective sigh.

A deep breath, followed by a moment of silence.

***

And the silence remained. Perfect. Unbroken.

Connections shattered without sound.

Tears slid silently down my cheeks,

and then…

And then “we” were no more.

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Flashback..., Reflections

Recalled…

Today the past came calling in a dreadfully (yet exciting) day, when I found myself, quite literally, a few decades astray. For a time (pun intended) it was so real that “surreal” meant something other than the exotic rush such words are meant to convey; it became an apt descriptor of the times I found my Way!

I saw myself, I felt myself exactly as I was then. And just as suddenly I knew my self exactly as I am. There was no awakening accompanying this moment, no reflection…. No epiphany at all. Just a lifetime of remembering in an instant of total recall!

There was joy and sorrow, grief and regret, a happiness I still haven’t experienced yet. There was laughter tainted with madness, and tears diluted with grins. And a sense of belonging so deep in my be-ing, it choked on my definition of One.

I heard Her voice, I claimed her rage; I understood it as my own. I passed it on to others because I sensed it could be done. And when the terror rushed in, seeking its attention, I tossed it aside quite easily; a flick of the wrist, a tiny twist, and… poof… instantaneously gone!

But wait! No no no no no no… Back up! Rewind! Slo mo! Before I forget, I must admit… I must admit….

What?! Or when? Or why (always why)?!

Who is She and how… am I?

Too late! Too late… It echoes… Reverberates.

Now. What was it I was trying to say? Hmm…. Sorry. So sorry. I think…

I forget.

And far away… in distance? In time? An emotionless voice in a vacuum, a void…

“Sorry. So sorry. But this model’s been recalled.”

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Reflections

Opinions are like assholes…

Everybody has one. And everybody is one, especially if you disagree with me or mine. Including me, of course. I am an asshole, too. More so these days than ever before…

You know, I’ve spent these last few months trying to write my resignation letter for work. Not that I’m in a position financially where I can actually quit (of course not!). But I like to think about it, to fantasize about it, to plan for it… just in case, you know? But the letter gets larger and longer in my mind, every day, expanding with each new “injustice” I face. It’s so long, in fact, that I wouldn’t even read it all now. And I wrote it!

“Just say, ‘I quit!’,” I tell myself. “That’s all they truly need to know…”

“Yes, but…,” I answer myself. “… I have so much more to say!”

“I have feelings and thoughts. I have opinions! And if I don’t speak them now, I will never get another chance! I don’t need that kind of regret in my life today!“

“Nobody cares, Lisa. Nobody is listening. Nobody wants to be enlightened here. Not even you!”

And that much is true, I know. Nothing will change as a result of my sharing. Not even me. Because, in spite of everything I’ve learned and done in my life, it is still all about me, me, me, me… It has always been about me. All of it! Every choice I’ve ever made. Every goal I’ve ever sought. Every “gift” I’ve ever given or received. Every debt I’ve ever owned. Every mistake I’ve ever made. Every sorrow I’ve ever claimed. Every regret ever expressed…(deep breath)…me, me, me! I, I, I…

I am al-one in my world. I am, quite simply put, me. As I have always, eternally, been. Alone. And every reflection I see “out there” only reinforces my point of view.

And that viewing angle narrows every day…

I used to applaud myself for my ability to embrace multiple points of view. To get into an’other’s perspective. To walk a while in their shoes… But I can’t really do that anymore. People have gone so far off the deep end that I can’t reach them anymore. It’s like everyone around me is speaking an entirely made up language of their own, and without the verbal and facial clues (I live in a mask mandated state, you know), I don’t stand a chance of interpreting what they’re saying! I just stare at them blankly and let them speak, until, in their frustration at not being heard, they turn ugly and intimidating. And then I walk away. Because what else can I do? Listening while not hearing them is not helping either of us; nor is it improving any of our moods…

I’ve given up… There is no “saving” any of us. But that’s just my opinion, of course…

And I’m an asshole these days. Just like everyone else!

I’m watching my physical body deteriorate, day by day, while I’m still trapped within it. I’m watching my society crumble around me, so corrupted that it cannot be salvaged, while I’m still trapped within it. I’m watching the very planet that gave me life suffer and die slowly (suffer so greatly and for so long!), and I’m still trapped upon it. And there is nothing I can do about any of it! No-thing! But watch. And withdraw. Into my own little point of view…

And everyone I know, whom I still respect, are slowly coming to that same conclusion…

Yes, opinions are like assholes, restricting my point of view. And if I can clench my butt cheeks any tighter in the tension of this moment, maybe I will no longer be able to even see any of you. And then maybe, just maybe, I can finish writing this damn letter…

So I can finally say, “I quit!” And well and truly mean it. So there is no lingering regret…

… when I turn and walk away.

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Reflections

Irrelevancy…

I wanted to write a piece titled “The Watcher,” to share where I’ve been these past few months. And yet, I could not write it without miring myself in hypocrisy so deep as to make the story irrelevant (at best), or self-destructive (at worst)… Or maybe it’s the other way around…

You see, the Watcher is a tale of perspective. In that role I sit as an observer of all things, but never truly interacting with any. I use my cosmic remote to change the channels, allowing me to safely view many lives, without actually experiencing any. Human or not, across multiple timelines. I can binge-watch any that intrigue me, and skip through those that bore me. I can fast-forward through scary moments, and rewind to savor the exciting times. I can, in essence, control exactly what I observe without actually being in control of what happens. But it only works because I am present in all those variations…

But if I am truly present in any of those scenarios, then I have rendered my self power-less by making it impossible for Me to affect those separate existences. I can only observe!

And should I truly want to interact with any of my stories, then I must first abandon my role as Watcher. I must lose myself in a particular storyline, forgetting the vastness of my existence, thus limiting my perspective to my immediate surroundings. I must blind my self to all other possibilities. That path is one of Self-destruction.

Which ultimately, and eventually, leads back to my role as the Watcher…

*** *** ***

These past two nights I’ve had the strangest dreams…

Last night I dreamt of my greatest fears, and all my efforts focused on turning away and avoiding them. I knew that I was dreaming, of course, but I still didn’t want to confront them. I kept yelling at the characters in my dreams to stop trying to show me, and I would physically turn my head away before they were revealed. That turning of my head would waken me enough to shift positions. But upon returning to the dream state, I would discover the same dream , albeit in a different setting…

Finally, I declared “enough already!!” You are all so determined to force this on me… “let’s get this over with!” And so someone slid the box of baby bunnies out from under my chair. Baby bunnies! And my alarm went off, leaving me exasperated as well as exhausted by my less than restful night…

Tonight I am dreaming of my character flaws – those very traits I’d like to think I’ve shed along the way. Like arrogance, for instance. I’ve worked hard to drive that feeling of superiority born of insecurity from my consciousness. But as I dream tonight I hear myself shouting, “why is everyone trying to make me look and feel stupid?! I am not an idiot, no matter how many idiotic things I’ve done! No matter how many bad decisions I’ve made! I am still smart, while sometimes doing not-smart things!!”

Deep sigh…

What was I saying about arrogance and insecurity? Hmm…

*** *** ***

I know there is relief to be found in irrelevancy. It is uncomfortable at first, learning that nothing I do, think or believe truly matters to the outside world. But when the shock of surrender fades, and the Ego truly relents, there is only peace left. An endless (pointless) calm that serves no one but my self.

And I can sit back and watch Others striving to become. While I can simply be…

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Poetry, Reflections

The Other…

I see you…

I see the struggle you undertake every day.

I see the smiles you fake along the way.

I see the haunted looks you hide

and the tears you haven’t cried.

I see you…

I hear you…

I hear the words you say

and the ones you’ll never speak

I hear the strength that’s gone,

your voice now tremulous and weak.

I hear you…

I feel you…

I feel your pain in the day to day

I feel the joy that slipped away.

I feel your fear that nothing will change

I feel the certainty that we’ve lost this game.

I feel you…

I know you…

I know what makes you different

I know what makes us the same.

I know where you are headed

I know because I’m going that way.

I know you…

My Other isn’t other

Any more than I’m my Self.

Interchangeable…

Unique…

Separate…

But together.

I am Me.

I am We.

I am…

Quite simply

Every thing.

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Poetry

”Caught Up in My Own Drama…”

Caught up in my own drama

a single person play

a solo performance

on a tiny little stage…

Writing, and rewriting, the dialogue

rearranging the scenes

so very little to work with

so very much to change…

Missing out on what’s around me

as I toil at my craft

convinced if I can get it “write”

the rest will fall in place…

Delusion, like fantasy, the dreamer’s media

presumptuous assumptions

those foundational mis-sumptions

guaranteed to lead one astray…

Yet here I am, complaining again

how nothing turns out “right”

when caught up in my own drama

directing the soul actor of my play…

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Conversations, Reflections

Moments…

There are moments, like this one, in which everything feels perfect…

Disappointments stand hand in hand with hopes…

Joy and sorrow support one another…

Life echoes in the silence surrounding me, while the Silence mutes the sounds of living…

A cat purrs in timely rhythm with me, clocking each breath I take…

And my heartbeat, steady and slow, drives out all thoughts of death…

And time…

I am alone, yet I am Whole.

I am divided, yet I am sure.

I am ashamed, yet I am wiser.

I am complete.

*** *** ***

And he said to me…

“Did you know it takes three minutes to make a moment?”

“Yes, actually, I have heard that,” I responded. “Thanks for reminding me!”

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