Confronting Glass

Take a look around.

Is this where you want to be? 

Confront the reflection in that polished piece of glass.

Is this all you want to be?

Without proper invitation, so many people wait around for change to walk through their door. We plant seeds half hearted in arid ground. Then, we just walk away. Praying for rain. Expecting a full harvest upon our return despite never having watered a single, blossomed bud. We desire perfection, yet do not give pursuit. We pray for something to break the spinning cycles, yet clasped hands are the only effort put forth.

Dreams are for those who wish to keep their eyes closed. Will you stay asleep or make them a reality?

We lose ourselves to the mathematics of repetition. We tie our own hands unknowingly, weighed down in chains by the seemingly overwhelming burdens of our own Everyday. Carried crosses are beared because the weight is all you know. Leave them to the termites. Passions and ambitions are lost to false senses of entitlement. Soft, shackled hands that have never tasted dirt find themselves stretched out in want. And we have the audacity to ask why our seeds bear no fruit. Accountability; a word long forgotten. We are our Father’s progeny. We are not our Fathers.

We validate our place in life in comparison to others we deem are far behind us. Or we look ahead at those who have seemingly achieved so much more than ourselves. Envy, however misinterpreted, blinds us to all that we ourselves have accomplished in comparison to where we have been, to where we are now. This is your life. Your choices. In this matter, it is best to only concern yourself with your journey. If you concern yourself with the position of others in this race you have created in your mind, you will always be behind someone else.

So many count life as a cheap and weightless thing for they themselves lack the proper substance to stay afloat in tempest waters. Victories are few, as you seek few victories. You define yourself by your faults and weaknesses, in spite of all the strengths you refuse to recognize and refuse to test. Personal identities have become lost in an effort to obtain acceptance on a massive scale. So many have become a copy of a copy. Machines built by machines. Enlightenment and happiness is purchased with every purchase.

The pursuit of personal identity becomes an endeavor to label ourselves by fair worded definitions. Horoscopes. Zodiacs. Religion. Rather than recognize that you; are you. Simply. Truly. How could words possibly describe you in your entirety? We have become a generation described and defined only by our wants. Are we so two dimensional? Or has over abundance merely left us feeling constantly in need of some sort of stimulation?

Instead of finding meaning in these words, find meaning for yourself. We are not lost. Not yet forgotten. We are here, now. And now is all we have. Tomorrows are not infinite. A thought is nothing without action. Just words. Dust and air. You find yourself when you lose yourself. When you throw yourself outside of the routines you have so comfortably settled in. When you step outside of the groove and expose yourself to all you have sought to protect yourself from.

Monks discover enlightenment when they conveniently remove themselves from the world and her treasures. From the the pursuit of love and companionship. When the risks of passions and the emotions they provoke are eliminated, a quiet mind would not be hard to find. But what would life be without these things? How would we find ourselves and know who we are when we do not have those passions to lose ourselves and give in to? Who would inspire us and drive us to change? To find any answer to the these questions, you must step into the world, not away from it.

Change is attainable, when you decide it’s attainable. When you breathe life into thought. Do not worry about the positions of others. Do not hold yourself in contempt to envy. If they are what inspire the change you so desire, make them a catalyst, not a restraint, to spark the reaction needed. Water the seeds you plant. You deserve nothing till you put forth the effort. No gain without sacrifice. Do not define yourself by some one else’s interpretation. You are you.

I am me.

Nothing less and so much more.

-HOWl

Pray for Rain

I have been trying to give audience to a mute organ, or perhaps I have merely grown deaf to it’s voice. It’s constant hunger, it’s insatiable thirst. Fist sized in proportion, it unfurls, unseen, and talks in a language I don’t speak–though it’s every gesture remains immortal and universal yet still, I am lost in translation. These words were never taught to me.

Here it has slept for years; behind the bars of this rib cage confined to solitary, serving a term that will not end until I do.

There within this cell hums a pull. A gravity that before only pushed. The circulatory moon of my own tides causing the ebb and flow of my gut to crash like so many waves. It’s almost enough, just to be in orbit around this. Though this satellite flies not in silence. It beats to the rhythm of a war drum, it knows no other song.

I levitated on this feeling once. Swearing then to an absent God that there was a magic in desire that could give flight to creatures born without wings. But butterflies are all but a forgotten memory.

Remind me.

Please.

For all I have are dreams and my dreams they get the best of me for they always leave in the morning. My eyes open with a taste in my mouth I have yet to know; my waking tongue yearns for the taste.

You have come to fear the thorns of every flower from the times you have bled, yet still–you are intoxicated by the scent.

And this love would bloom if you would fetch the water,

but I am not a gardener.

 

Pray for rain.