i) Life is a story;
we are charged with forever narrating our existence to ourselves. This makes us- in a way- omnipotent. We knew it when we were kids-
how vividly we could sprout wings (and all other manner of magical appendages), materialize majestic beasts and enchanted cities out of the air.
As we age and busy ourselves with grown-up affairs we
and leave behind the charms and colours of our imaginations. So as
you write your story
take a moment between pages
ad lib the impossible.
See, by doing so, you defy universal laws and create a possibility that is as palpable as
ice cream on your tongue.
It may last a second or ten seconds or even a minute, but it feeds your soul.
Regrow your youthful wings. Speak in cello. Invite a Jabberwocky for tea.
(a. You wont regret it)
(b. It is a gift)
(c. Jabberwockies make for very dignified company)
ii) People are constantly evolving. Everyone (and I mean everyone) is growing. As
So too must our opinions of people evolve.
Our assumptions. Our unconscious prejudices.
Approach all souls with dignity and grace.
Hear with an open mind (wide, wide open!), and really hear.
People change, oft for the better. In accepting and nurturing the growth within those around us, we
grow ourselves a little bit, too.
iii) Some really very smart people believe that there is no such thing as altruism.
They seek to prove that every act of kindness
every good deed
is ultimately for our own benefit.
An evolutionary instinct to save our asses in any given situation,
so that we may carry on to have many, many babies that look like us.
They search to find evidence in the belief that all generosity and kindness is built on
pretense, profit, and self-preservation.
They might be right. But if we know it in our hearts to be false we can maintain a world that is
good and pure. Science is brilliant. But sometimes it's bollocks. And
sometimes it's up to us to figure the difference.
iv) Devote a little time every day to appreciate natural beauty.
Whether it be a far-off vista, the ineffable aesthetic of a jagged cliff that tumbles into the ocean (Thank you, Blomidon)
or perhaps.... cherish the architecture that structures the
of a person
Allow yourself to be warmed by the beauty, and your eyes to lose their focus.
Breathe in so that the space in your cranium expands upwards and upwards
Til your whole consciousness is a cathedral.
And in that lovely sanctuary, you can find astounding calm and repose. It reminds you of the
"The eyes are the windows to the soul"
good thing I have pretty blue eyes?
Bullshit. The soul is the window to the soul
peeked into by watching a life.
Where does the self reside?
in a cardboard box body
dimples marketed to be cherished
a full lipped smile, irises to beguile
this image, lottery identity-
Am I supposed to feel lucky?
Arbitrary proportions, is my soul a brunette
are its shoes size 9?
Some assembly required- to be human
words writ to describe this shell
this meaningless husk
puppet jesting at life
feverishly polishing itself
until it cracks, breaks
Does the self wear a top hat
and say: "Here's a hundred years to sell out the show"
"Til death do us part,
my perfection and my soul."
I'll lay out the patio so nicely
they'll never even realize
the host is in absencia, has hidden deep inside
I curse myself for the illusion of aesthetic-
Beauty is the greatest lie
Rid me of the irons to
imprisoned in this wretched skeleton,
the cage of the soul, the self, the someone
in embryo form
dreaming they're awake
but have never even opened their eyes.
i meditate emptiness:
i am a lantern on the water
i am a raindrop about to land
i am a birthday candle
i am a wave against the shoal
i am utterly
i am afraid to let go
i am scared of impermanence
shall my emotions afflict
my waking karmas
i loathe loneliness.
it is the footprint of my fearing
doctrine, oh doctor, please assuage-
my chronic symptom: disappearing
i am a nothing
an irrevocable passing away
i feel it on the street
i hear it in the songs i play
i know it within my secret heart
and when you turn away.