Hah
As I am understanding myself more and more
I am watching

My suffering,
Wanting to grasp its core.

Tons of shame and of blame.

My little self somewhere underneath
Trying to breath.

Every day when it's time to meditate
I allow my pain to rise.

Every time I'm hoping to arrive
At some deep new revelation.

But it looks as though
There is no final destination.

Looking at how I'm looking at myself.
Am I wasting my time?
There's nothing to see
Apart from Me and Me and Me.

Self-loathing, then holding myself close.
Because I remember to breath and to pause.
Because I remember about compassion.
But still, this process is much work.

I wish things were easier, lighter,
I wish I'd knew what I want to fight for,
I wish I'd understood my relationships better,
I wish I wouldn't blame myself for everything including weather...

I wish. I wish. I wish.

The hardest part is to let go,
Whatever that means.
It's as unsatisfying
As this poem's ending.