Non-Fiction
True Stories of Our Real World, Real Stories of Our True World

Every Day Acts of Peace

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Sunday, August 26, 2012

Los Angeles 2010: Exhausted from My Own Betrayal

Day and night cooperate to unify the whole,
day does not oppress night, and dark does not suppress light -
each at their core contains the truth of the other.
Life is alchemical and always, ever and ever more, forever and ever after
a restorative dance moving with a sense of optimism for the future.

My beliefs and choices are personal to myself –
mere intellectual concepts made to be naturally altered,
destroyed in each moment 
to enable and expand the art of my self-expression.
I craft myself aware, 
sculpt my self-identity, 
I am, 
and so I am recreationally self-defining.
Each day I birth the extraordinary lightness of my being
to oversee the demise of my dualistic mediocracy –
to oppose any divisive rule imposed on me, 
by my own mediocre self-governing principals.
I expose the pain that I experience 
to transcend and transform the pain that I cause.

The nature of creation is spiraling escalation –
even during times of contraction, 
I am simultaneously expanding. 
The challenge of my unknown 
sharpens my sense of self-determination,
the confrontation of my self, known, 
heightens my sense of self-realization –
life is not a test, I am, I exist, 
and all ready – I know the score.
I am not afraid of placing my attention on the beauty in this world,
I do not believe evil will grow unruly if devoid of my gaze –
simply I have learned, 
and so I am aware, 
that love transforms.

The gain after the fire is the replenishment of the earth; 
after the storm the air is clear.
I still, 
and redefine my past behind me 
to carry nothing more than my purity forward.
I still, 
and create 
vibrant child-like innocence and trust by being present –
especially 
if experience all around me is demeaning and devious.

I still, 
and meditate 
on restorative peace 
to strengthen the harmony 
of my core’s presence –
especially 
if experience all around me is disheartening and dishonest.

I still, 
and purify 
any and all discord and dissonance, 
so my presence synchronizes my actions –
sounds out 
and manifests 
significant resonance, 
to orchestrate the unification of my story.

How can I be so nonsensical in such a sensual world?
Beauty all around me, 
how could I behave as if this world smells only repulsive and unattractive?

Vibrating color unappreciated is tasteless, 
an unsavory course that causes indiscrete irregularity.

If Soul is left unknown and untouched, 
we lay in virginal beds of senseless determination –
only to die mind-numbing deaths ...
pretending to be something other than we are, is boring.

Whoever said ...
that monotony and effort are required to be in relationship with one’s self ...
was masquerading as a self-saboteur, 
a self-controlled artist restraining their own imagination.

I clear my mind, 
continuously, 
effortless; 
I die to the past to remain present in simplicity –
and pray 
that the insanity of my contortions 
extort my Soul from my familiar patterns.
I am not blind in a world of growing illumination –
in such a musical world 
I hear the song of life 
animating the vessel of my meaning.

Playing a role takes so much effort, 
an exertion so full of impotent try,
that it manifests tiresome inertia 
into ever and ever deepening 
virulent weakness –
I sleep for days when I am inauthentic, 
exhausted from my own betrayal.

~~ Other People's Fingerprint ~~
Sometime after 1923 Brendan Behan wrote;
“Many of our fears are tissue paper thin,
and a single courageous step would carry us clear through them.”






Saturday, August 4, 2012

Yucatan 1986: Integrated Power Produces Certainty

I think I am dreaming, 
when I see a face of a woman,
trapped in the ruins of a temple, 
overlooking the ocean.

I see this woman imagine her future, 
and then let go of her grasp on time.
Her next choice is cleared, 
reduced into an incremental moment.
Her result is grounded,
an accessible next step in time.

I touch the crumbling stone ledge, 
the angelic-fallings resting
on this window sill, 
still here, 
as a life-force-surge imprinted by sorrow.

The woman’s essence remains, 
from once upon a time long before now.
Confined and ghostly-hand printed
transparent remnants left for me to feel
and fold into my presence – 
this woman has surpassed time and its boundaries.

The woman’s emotions enter 
and overwhelm me – 
I feel her.
I feel her fear 
that her soul is falling, 
over a cliff edge
to be frenzied and churned, 
by the milky-white waves crashing below.

People here tell me stories of a Goddess,
who guards these temple grounds, 
where she was eventually imprisoned.
She found absolution in isolation -
isolation in birth and isolation in death.

Memory is a force, 
that goes beyond this incarnation.
Without knowing why
I am transported back in time
to the moment 
my consciousness entered the fertilized egg.
I tap into the courage awarded me
the moment I chose birth canal exit 
into an expanded community of consciousness.

Memory it is not a force that needs to be feared.
Memory communicates to me
to recall my personal power –
the unique, individualized original essence of me.
My afterbirth bits of my energy ...
I unconsciously left behind ...
somewhere ...
scattered back in time ...
overtime embedded within
the various life experiences, of me.

Our bodies can reflect 
the sum, total, all 
of our experience.

Empowered and strengthened
I am carried to the ledges of my own intentions.
I do not yet comprehend my decisions,
but I am required to face the fear
of my unknown choices.
I must let go not knowing
what my results will surrender me to.

Perhaps this Mayan woman, 
whose spirit has long since passed from this planet, 
intentionally left behind
the heart-prints of her Soul to show me ...
how to use my intention
to replenish my passion,
and integrate this power ...
my power into my presence.

Since re-membering all my experiences, 
from birth into present time,
I feel less like a concept
and more grounded in the reality of my own existence.
I feel less scattered, shattered and overshadowed -
I feel more fully the daily experience of waking
and reincarnating back integrating into my body.

Each event surrounding my past, present and future 
has cleared from the felt experiences in my body.
The sensation of my integrated power 
produces a certain kind of certainty -
certainty that I am ...
certainty that being still ...
creates a certain kind of knowingness ...
that I am here.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
Sometime around the year 600 BC, Sappho wrote;
“You may forget but let me tell you this:
someone in some future time will think of us…