#wholeness - Hello Poetry

The Art Of I have been a soldier muddy, half-starved, freezing longing to go home I was once a dancer a beautiful woman, I suppose, maybe an ugly one too? I’ve been both a prisoner and a jailer and learned they’re mostly the same, and that power and opportunism and desperation play too heavily on the human psyche, that we are not to be trusted under the sway of their influence I’ve lived through most labels and descriptions and jobs and through these identities I’ve preferred those that were simple, unassuming, and generous I’ve earned a little money and lost a lot of it fallen into love and out have broken hearts and had my own broken both are agonizing both impossible to avoid I sunk so deep into violence once that it taught me how to be tender, how to make my touch caring and safe I’ve felt the outer limits of the brain and there, where the mind stops, convulsing, foaming at the mouth, vision going black, pressed against the far reaches of what cognition can do, I felt grateful for my little brain while learning that it is not built for understanding. I have been born and born and born and I have died and died and died and, still, I cannot fathom the scope nor purpose of life’s curriculum But there have been a few teachings that I have felt, as life has poured through me, worth keeping: Do not fetishize your wounds they are not unique and are far too interested in themselves Do not idolize grief recognize it, name it, let it be your friend, feed it and tend to it when you must but do not worship grief or give it a home in your temple it can become a vain and depraved God Do not reject suffering by turning away from it suffering is diminished when we have the courage to look right at it Do not let love be so precious that you cannot lose it Do not try to fix, do not try to change do not try to manipulate, do not empower your preferences do not act from a righteous place You will slip up on this, we all slip up on this, humility is the way back to centeredness Do not give the horror so much power that it consumes you as it can, and will, consume you Do not believe too much in your humanity but do not give it all away do not believe too much in your self but do not become too interested in rejecting your self either Tribes and groups and cultures religions and creeds and icons are all temporary if we are lucky, and diligent, we will—someday— expand beyond our need of them. The art of living is in the All, in the obliteration of this-or-that, us-or-them, me-and-other-than-me; the art of living is in becoming Whole and relating to Wholeness. The art of loving in is freeing not possessing The art of feeling and seeing and experiencing is in allowance and recognition The art of cognition is in knowing the limitations of cognition The art of consciousness is the art of Wonder, Awareness, and Awe. All one. All one. All one. Awe. Awe. Awe.

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Feb 9

Feb 9, 2026 at 3:35 PM UTC

douglasbalmain

The Art Of

The Art Of I have been a soldier muddy, half-starved, freezing longing to go home I was once a dancer a beautiful woman, I suppose, maybe an ugly one too? I’ve been both a prisoner and a jailer and learned they’re mostly the same, and that power and opportunism and desperation play too heavily on the human psyche, that we are not to be trusted under the sway of their influence I’ve lived through most labels and descriptions and jobs and through these identities I’ve preferred those that were simple, unassuming, and generous I’ve earned a little money and lost a lot of it fallen into love and out have broken hearts and had my own broken both are agonizing both impossible to avoid I sunk so deep into violence once that it taught me how to be tender, how to make my touch caring and safe I’ve felt the outer limits of the brain and there, where the mind stops, convulsing, foaming at the mouth, vision going black, pressed against the far reaches of what cognition can do, I felt grateful for my little brain while learning that it is not built for understanding. I have been born and born and born and I have died and died and died and, still, I cannot fathom the scope nor purpose of life’s curriculum But there have been a few teachings that I have felt, as life has poured through me, worth keeping: Do not fetishize your wounds they are not unique and are far too interested in themselves Do not idolize grief recognize it, name it, let it be your friend, feed it and tend to it when you must but do not worship grief or give it a home in your temple it can become a vain and depraved God Do not reject suffering by turning away from it suffering is diminished when we have the courage to look right at it Do not let love be so precious that you cannot lose it Do not try to fix, do not try to change do not try to manipulate, do not empower your preferences do not act from a righteous place You will slip up on this, we all slip up on this, humility is the way back to centeredness Do not give the horror so much power that it consumes you as it can, and will, consume you Do not believe too much in your humanity but do not give it all away do not believe too much in your self but do not become too interested in rejecting your self either Tribes and groups and cultures religions and creeds and icons are all temporary if we are lucky, and diligent, we will—someday— expand beyond our need of them. The art of living is in the All, in the obliteration of this-or-that, us-or-them, me-and-other-than-me; the art of living is in becoming Whole and relating to Wholeness. The art of loving in is freeing not possessing The art of feeling and seeing and experiencing is in allowance and recognition The art of cognition is in knowing the limitations of cognition The art of consciousness is the art of Wonder, Awareness, and Awe. All one. All one. All one. Awe. Awe. Awe.