Showing posts with label societal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label societal. Show all posts

August 24, 2013

Ode to My Passport




Ode to My Passport

8-14 -15-13

OH not-so-golden-ticket to freedom
I don't know where I'd be without you
Actually that's not true
I know exactly where I'd be without you

but I don't know who I would be


Because of you I have discovered

more of who I am
And I found that definition
supersedes and transcends
home sweet home
overbearing barrier codes
or flagrantly self-serving flags

while still taking a little from each


Traveling has stretched my mind out

It uncoils my conditioning
Has shown me that we are all cocooned against our will
The more we are taught to ignore our wings

The less we navigate our bodies

away
from the comfort of the chrysalis


















OH weathered flipbook of worldly administrative wonders

because of you I am a stamp collector
but I use them to mail myself around the globe
And though I've only been to 11 of the 196 countries
on 4 of the 7 continents
those fractions have made me whole
a more human being
I realized the lines inside my head that seemed
to be sensible borders
were cracks
causing crevices in my understanding
Keeping me from connecting
with the universal parts of us


















OH magical object in my life
that isn’t really magical
since it’s just a little leathery booklet
that nobody can even read
The fuller you get the more fulfilled my life becomes
You are like my portrait of Dorian Gray
but you keep me young in the most beautiful way possible
by conjuring my spirit out its shell
to dance the flamenco with flamingos in Brazil

Okay

I haven’t done that but…
it sounds fun
Sounds like a good example right?
I could do that if I wanted to because I have a…
Never mind
lemme try again

OH future tracking device for the NSA

You keep me young in the most beautiful way possible
By conjuring my spirit out of its conical shell
To dance on beaches
Jump off bridges
Float with rivers
Cave open caves
Hike up glaciers
Chase down penguins
Fly off motorbikes
Sit on the ocean’s floor
Swim through a crowd of sweaty people
Pray for a “real toilet”
Succumb to pristine chapels and beehive malls
Climb ancient history to watch the latest sun set
Love a people or a culture I would have never known
Laugh with children I share no words with
Hang motionless by a rubber rope
in the middle of a canyon
like a spider from its web

That’s how many of us are now

Spiders dangling from a thread
looking up at this marvelous creation
going, “Huh, look at that.
That looks pretty cool.
Wonder where that came from.
Maybe I should go check it out.
Naaaaaaa.
I’ll just hang out here.
Gotta save some money anyway.”












 

All of you too averse to traverse our private speck of universe
for longer than it takes Venus to run around the Sun
I beg you to reconsider
Go sit with the beggars in Cambodia
Go meet the thieves in Rome
Go eat the strange food of supposed strangers
and taste their native tongues
Fill your pupils with all this colorful disco-ball
shimmers and shutters with
Our world is not what you think
It is incredibly what it is
And there’s no way you can
wrap your mind around that
until you have unwrapped
the scar spangled bandages
banded over your eyes

Once you do that

you will behold from such great heights
You will know nomads
and bond with vagabonds
wherever you may roam
You will finally understand
as you gaze into our existence
that this is our Never Never Land
But you should never say never





















 









 





OH hallpass of safe passage through airy ports of absurd security
I want you to know
that I never get front row seats at concerts
but I always get a window seat when I fly
because every time I look outside
at the endless supply of beauty
known as planet Earth
I count my lucky stars
in the nebulas of citylight
in the clusters of cumulus cloud emitting iridescent white
To be here living is itself
an Ode to Joy
And I am thankful
that like the clouds
I am caught
in an invisible current
carrying me out
to see



All the pictures (except the first one) are my own and were taken in various parts of Thailand, my home for the past 7 years. God bless it! 

January 13, 2013

My New Year's Poem




1- 1-12 - 2013


"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." ~ Emerson


I’d like to think I’m getting better at living through the years.
As each one passes, I’ve surmounted a few more fears
and left behind some tendencies to get tangled up in gears
that slow down my clock and bring little more than tears.

By focusing on my goals and their respective causes,
I’ve found a source of stability between the loves and losses.
It’s offered me a strength that I use to my advantage,
as I try to live with grace, while incurring minimal more damage.

This isn’t about perfection or even being better than others,
but a belief that you and I are only as good as our gutters,
as our weaknesses and flaws constantly stabbing us in the back
like a city that's being flooded by its very own crap.

It’s a tricky thing we’re given when we’re handed the controls,
of a life others half built and may have blindly filled with holes.
Like landmines in our foundation, or a blueprint full of errors,
and we pick up where they left off amongst the comedy of terrors.

Yet we’re expected to make it work like we all know what we’re doing,
like the world has a use for us that we are knowledgeably pursuing.
But for most it would seem we’re all searching for a light
to illuminate the room with the best parts of life.

It’s safe to say where that room is, we’ve heard it all our lives
as we busy our dizzy selves like desperate houseflies,
from the mouths of our greatest minds and the stories they have told,
to the remarkably simple truths spoken by our young and old.

“You have to look within,” they say, “til you’re not afraid of what you see,
because every time you look away…you lose sight of the enemy.
The only one who can hold you down and keep you from becoming
everything you’ve ever dreamed, without the slightest bit of cunning,

just the goodness of love, along with a beautiful faith
that you weren’t put here to be a victim on behalf of the human race.
That there is more to you than this, whatever this is,
just as there is more to love than a lust for hugs and kisses.

To never stop digging deeper like you’re searching for a bullet
that could be infecting parts of your life with x amounts of bullshit.”
This is what they say to the rest of us, who are as clever as cartoons,
always expecting to get better, without putting pressure on the wounds.

~

This is what I saw growing up, and I’d be damned if I followed suit,
so I broke my pact with the devil, and threw the bible down the chute.
I accepted no one’s answers but the ones I found myself,
and began to pay attention to the thoughts that filled my shelf.

I found that many were not my own, and few were even true,
like my perceptions had been catered by a society with the flu
and a sickness had been spreading that was simply called ‘The Norm’:
once it got its pound of flesh, you were bound to be deformed.


So I resolved to make a change, protect whatever I was
from a world that sought to make me accept whatever it does
as gospels and love and the way things ought to be,
like I can’t tell the difference between truth and falsity.

This was all disturbing, but I found a place inside
where I could be myself and I didn’t have to hide
how much I really loved to live or what made me feel alive,
and in this place I found my art…and that’s when I began to thrive.


 I didn’t think I was good at anything for the better part of my life,
but my writing made that line of thinking slow and then it jackknifed.
I felt like I really had something, and it was incredibly fun,
but I also incessantly doubted myself and was incredibly dumb.

I didn’t have the confidence to do what I needed to do,
and never felt the freedom to follow my dreams through.
Eventually I let it all go, because I didn’t believe in myself.
How often do we squander our unvalued wealth?

However, as you see, that’s not the end of this story,
and I have managed to reclaim a bit of my former glory,
and have put it to good use in some interesting ways
that make my life feel like a ship aptly called, “To Better Days.”

There’s a place for my art in the world that I didn’t see before.
It was there all along, but I was blind to the door
and no one seemed to notice my stumbling potential,
so I figured I was kidding myself thinking this was special.

It was my favorite thing in the world and I treated it like a hobby,
told myself to forget my dreams, and that betrayal was ungodly.
It broke my spirit and made me hate all that I was.
My art atrophied in self-loathing.  My big bang became a blasé buzz.

But it never went away, it just got very very quiet,
like I went from flyin planes, to a desk job at the Hyatt.
The itch was always there to get back into the air
but I had to spend my days acting like I didn’t care.

I was a fool to stop it and to think it could be stopped.
All I did was hang an anvil that would naturally be dropped
on my dumbfounded head almost ten years later,
and the force knocked so much sense, it turned my skull into a crater.

Now I write every day, I am happy to report!
Whether poems thoughts or songs, even essays and letters
the words won’t stop coming out! But…long story short,
as time passed and brought experience, I broke free from my fears,
and slowly found my way back into the stratosphere.

It may not always be great and I’m rarely very technical,
but I enjoy what I make and performing is a spectacle
that I can’t believe I’m a part of, it was once a “wildest dream.”
And now every chance I get makes my inner child scream

with the joy of Christmas presents or a great birthday surprise.
I’ve reached a place in life where all the blessings are undisguised.
And I can’t believe the fortune I had in my hands all this time!
Who knew you could make life better…just by making rhymes?


The power of a purpose is that of a resounding call,
calling everyone who heard it to take that leap despite the fall.
I’ve heard mine loud and clear now, but it was there all along,
and I do not think I’m alone in that. I think we all have a song

that we are meant to sing, that would tell you where you belong,
so you can live without the constant, crippling fear of being wrong.
Because none of that matters, not one judgment is eternal.
The system is designed so you can escape any inferno,

from the one in your head, to the violence you feel and see,
but whether you go up or down is up to you entirely.
You sow the seeds of your future, or you let them be sown,
but whatever you end up with is only yours to own. 

The world is a crazy place, no doubt. Of this, we’re well aware.
Some are born in opportunity, while others in despair.
And while that might make some dreams far-fetched, greatness is always possible.
The abominable only exist as long as allowed by the indomitable.

~

  At this point, all I hope for is to become more of what I am,
to better my self, and if I can, to help my fellow man.
Because I know something of his struggle, I’ve been on both sides,
but you’ll find me smilin in the middle now, cuz I know it’s just a ride.

I cannot ask for much more from life (if you could only see what I’ve been given),

but I see how much more can be done with the storyline I’m livin,
so I try to bend it in more alignment with the universe’s laws,
so I may do that work much longer. God willing, Insh’Allah. 


_


October 14, 2012

Bed of Nails



3-10-00




The expectations of a parent
                 are like nails
   held to their children's back
Held just close enough to make it
                    apparent
      what will happen if they
                        slack

Because of this
                        the kids walk fine lines
                              like tight ropes
        while bearing unnecessary pressure
        and they do this all in hopes
                                  living up to their parents'
                                       measure

They're forced into invisible molds
    (an act the parent will never admit)
       and every time the children
             do exactly what they're told
       the molds become
                           a better fit

Permanently filling shoes
                 they should only
    be trying on
  As they are served
a full plate of values
  and they don't get to leave the table 
 'til every last pea is gone

Parents allow fear
   to become the source of their love
 Never meaning it to do any harm
But there's a line between guidance
      and a helpful shove
  and when it's crossed
     there is cause for alarm

But as children are
   tucked in for the night
 their parent's
       smiles hang high overhead
  Though the kids are told
      everything will be all right
    they still feel the prick of
                nails in their bed     





July 6, 2012

Like Water, Like Son




This is a poem that I recently performed at a charity event raising money for an orphanage in North-Western Thailand. The story behind the poem can be found here. The video is of the actual performance, it's not without its flaws, there are a handful of tiny changes I would make if I could do it again, but overall I'm pretty happy with it, so check it out, lemme know what you think! And the words are down below.  PEACE! 



Like Water, Like Son 

       
We have to be more careful
with this power that we wield
over every living child
whose fate has not been sealed
whose life still has a purpose
that has yet to be revealed
We have to warn them of the darkest parts
and be their human shields
teach them all about the world
and the greed that it instills
show them there’s two sides to life
and each and every thrill
Cuz kids are like cups
just waiting to be filled
you should know that every drop
you put in is gonna build
a bridge to this feeling
a link to some sensation
in no time they will be reeling
between peace and titillation
with no idea that life is stealing
the most Pristine Natural Formation…

The Mind of an Innocent Being

…free from fear’s indoctrination

Free from that persistent feeling
that we live in suffocation
free to feel their own souls breathing
without the heat of condemnation
free to know the healing powers
of their childish elation
Free to Be a Human Being…

before the bullshit’s saturation

before the mind hits maturation

and they don’t believe in anything
besides success and masturbation
at the expense of everything

…the world’s bastardization

We don’t talk to children enough
we still don’t talk to our kids about love or sex
we don’t talk to our teens about rape
we don’t talk to our sons about arrogance
we don’t talk to our daughters about strength
like we don’t want them to know how strong they could be

we hardly ever explain why we do what we do
like they don’t need to know…like we don’t even know
like there’s no meaning in any of it

Our denial
Our fear-laden inability to be honest with ourselves stops us
from being honest with them

about the most important things

our weaknesses throughout life
our struggle within
our regrets
and all those fears
that we couldn’t even put into words until our early twenties

…and so the weaknesses of the father are visited upon the son
over and over again

I see it all the time
I know a father who has never acknowledged the scars on his own daughter’s wrists
I know a father who has never spoken the word love to any of his children
I know a mother who has never talked to her son about why he ran away from home
…like it never happened, even though it changed everything

How can we protect em if we lie to ourselves
How can we prepare them for reality, when we can’t even face it

We have to be more honest with them
about what we believe and what we’ve learned
and what we have no fucking clue about
before they miss the point of all of this
so caught up in what they’re “supposed to do”
and they think what they have on the outside
is more important than what’s in here

Let’s be a little more aware
of this cycle that exists
of the echoes it puts out
and the way that it can twist
every thing we never say
into tiny catalysts
that cause our kids
to think it’s normal
to solve problems with their fists
to live a life that’s nothing more
than a number on a list
and distrust every single difference
til no one can coexist

We’re like water,
WE’RE LIKE WATER
you can treat this like a fact
because whatever you put in
I promise you will get it back

we’re like water, we’re like water
and kids are the clearest springs
and whatever WE put in them
is what the future brings



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 



June 11, 2012

Home is What We Make of It



It's good to finally post this poem. It's been a soldier, and it's that much closer to a well deserved retirement. This has been my Go-To poem for years whenever I need to introduce somebody to "Performance Poetry." It WORKS! It has all the ingredients of a good performance poem. Not large portions of those ingredients, mind you, but enough dashes to give people a taste of what this art is and can be.


It's got a simple rhyme scheme which helps keep the listener's attention. It's got a character, since I perform it as a gay flight attendant. Gay in the old sense of the word, of course ;). It's got a nice variety of images. It's simple but complex since it is satirical. And that satire paves the way to humor, which is one of the most important ingredients for a "Well-Rounded" performance piece. Because of the humor, this piece is guaranteed to elicit an audible response from the crowd in the MIDDLE of the poem. THAT'S important. If you can't make a crowd laugh, gasp, moan or cry, then you're not doin it right. This poem does that almost every time. It's short, pointed, and to the point. Just like Jon Stewart. :D

I guess what is most notable about this poem is its age. It's old! I wrote March 2nd of 2000, which puts me just shy of 19, my first year of college. 12 years old and it STILL works. That's awesome. I haven't changed a thing, and when people find out how old it is, they're like, "Hmph, you coulda wrote it yesterday, still true." And I'm like, "I know, right!" Nothin's changed folks, just more people are aware of it.
It's also worth noting that that means I didn't write it as a performance poem. I didn't know what performance poetry/slam poetry was at that point in time. But once I did learn about it a couple years later, I went back and a few pieces, like this one, just seemed to lend themselves to it naturally. And the true potential of the poem was born. Pretty cool. And now look at it, it's been with me a long time. And I even started using it in class to teach what satire is as part of my introduction to Animal Farm. Which coincidentally is right now! The only time I do anything with my poetry in class is performing THIS poem, as I just did twice last week and once more tomorrow. But that's not why I'm posting it now. I'm postin it now cuz I also performed it at a gig last week, as part of the Dine in the Dark WORLD ENVIRONMENT DAY on June 5th. Which is really awesome.


I got the call to serve up some poetry and I knew just the piece. This piece. I love it, it's so useful. I'm glad my teenage self was cool enough to write it. I never ever would've imagined the life this poem has lived.

Anyway, I just thought it was high time I put it on the internet. I'm sure I probably put it up on my old blog back in the myspace days, but that was many years ago. And I haven't wanted to ruin it for any of you by letting you read it first, but now I've about performed it as much as I can. It's a got a couple more public events left in it's Bangkok life, but eventually I'll just save it for private events or friendly demonstrations. I hate making people hear my poems more than once or twice. Really. It's probably a stupid hate to have for this line of art, but...I know they're never gonna have the same punch after that. And if they don't make you feel anything thennnnnn what's the point?

At some point I should do a video for this and get it up on youtube too. I'm gettin a little bored of the one take videos in my room but...maybe one more for old times' sake. ;)

Enjoy the poem. Remember to imagine me reading it like a VERY gay flight attendant. But in the old sense of the word.

Cheers!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Home is What We Make of It
3-2-00

ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS...

Welcome to the world Where We Don't Care
If you're just passing through, then please don't stare
You might provoke the natives and make them self-conscious
and they really don't like that, so please, be cautious

If you're planning to visit, then we welcome your presence
Understand that the pollution and violence is all part of the essence
We do everything we can to make it completely carefree
And making sure you never have to think is part of that guarantee

If you're planning to stay, well then you came to the right place
The more the merrier as we all say, and don't you worry about space
If push comes to shove we'll just knock down some more trees
then you can jump on the freeways and go anywhere you please

We can mass-produce anything to accommodate your every need
and we have so much technology, you don't even have to be able to read
You can live whatever life you want through a cellular phone
and if you ever become homeless, we promise, you won't be alone

Here, the world truly is your apple, so don't be afraid to bite
And don't let yourself be discouraged by someone else's plight
They will have their day, so let this one be yours
and enjoy the world from war divided continents to oil-slick ocean shores

It's all about boiling yourself down to your senses
only then can you cast aside your pretenses
That's when you'll feel that global energy in the air
and you'll know you're in the world Where We Don't Care



May 11, 2012

Ode to Perseverance

I wrote this after high school, 1st or second year of college I think, don't have an exact date, but...I'm thankful that it's touched a few lives over the years. It's good to get it up in video form, maybe it can reach a few more. I'm posting the words like this because it's so hard to do irregular spacing in HTML, it's really not the worth the headache when this can work just as well.

Enjoy peeps!



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




March 28, 2012

The Whirlpool -- Part 3


You live in a world full.


You live in a world full of isolation.


How can both those statements be true?


They just are.


John Donne said that “No man is an island.” However, if you think bigger…might you notice that every piece of land is an island?

So perhaps what he was trying to say is that no man is land.

Does that make sense?

That no man is like a piece of land? Does that ring as true as what Donne said IF you agree with what he said?

It seems logical.

And if you are following the logic there, and you can see the truth in the idea of no man being separate from ______, then you might want to spend some time thinking, “if man is Not land then….what is he?”

Put some thoughtful time into that metaphor. There are, after all, only so many other elements to choose from. They might offer you an interesting way to look at man.

All that aside, focus now on the current experience of reality; one that seems to be rife with isolation. That doesn’t mean YOU are alone. Certainly not, who would imply such a thing when you have a husband, a wife, significant others, kids, pets, friends and co-workers who give you books to read and music to listen to.

You are not alone. Right?

Then how is it there is still an incredible amount of isolation living in your life. Can you see it? Can you feel it? Would you appreciate it if someone pointed it all out?

Where is the isolation if it is not in your relationships? It is simple really: the isolation is in your mind. It is BUILT Into your relationship with absolutely everything, everything you see no connection to or see no connection between.

In your mind it is as though EVERYTHING around you has its own box. Every thing is boxed up, squared off, and framed in: isolated by a lack of perceived indivisibility.

The world IS indivisible, however, every boxy bit of it. There is a constant flow of relationship, there is a constant stream of cause, there is a never ending line of effects and the energy that invisibly exists between all of these never really changes or stops moving. Despite how often you draw a line where a line can never exist.

You think that all these pieces of life are separated somehow. You think it so much that you have divided the entire world with your thoughts. You think that everything fits into its own little box, affixed with its own little label and you like it that way, you like it that way a lot. You like that everything is distinguishable and clear. If it wasn’t so divided and divisible and clear, then pieces might start to overlap and when things start to overlap, suddenly there are RELATIONSHIPS that you’re not so sure about. Like a white supremacist who refuses to look at his family tree because he suspects—pretty much knows—there’s a nigger in there somewhere. Maybe two!

If the world wasn’t so divisible and clear it would suddenly be a lot harder to hate…….ANYTHING. If the world wasn’t so divisible and clear you would end up with so little to fear, and….what would you do without all that fear? Really. What would you DO without all that fear?

If it wasn’t so divisible and clear, you might inadvertently find yourself associated with and questioning so many things in the world that…you don’t want to think about. Because, after all, your understanding and definition of things is just fine. You got a family, friends, a house, a church, a God, a bible, a job, a car, a dog, a cat, a tv, food on the table and a vacation once a year. What more could you ask for in such a disparate world?

This is the world, your world as you see it. And all those basic pieces you’ve worked so hard to acquire are hardly even related in your mind. Your dog doesn’t have anything to do with that tv. Your friends don’t seem to have anything to do with the food on your table. Each one is in its own little box, unless the connection is OBVIOUS to the 5 senses of course. Hence why it takes some people so long to figure out that the invisible dog dander in the air is having a direct effect on your respiratory system. Not to mention the dust all over the tv.

The air in one room of the house has nothing to do with the air in another. They are as unrelated as the two different colors of paint on the two rooms’ walls. This is how you treat all of life. Even though you know a dog can smell something a mile away. Even though an elephant can smell water (that is underground) from ten miles away. Even though you’ve heard accounts of twins on opposite sides of the world sensing the other’s pain. Even though you’ve heard of more than one pet going crazy or dying the moment its owner passes in another place. Even though women who live together often experience an alignment of their menstruation cycles, like the face of the moon aligning itself with the Earth. Even though you, yourself, have a story of your own, maybe from a half-remembered dream, much like this.

For you, that is all neither here nor there. To you, these are all anomalies in a system that makes perfect sense. For you, these are “mysterious” exceptions to the rule. The unwritten rule that states, “I am only connected to what I see myself connected to AND, regardless of even that, what I AM stops at the tip of my finger.

Never underestimate the power of denial. Never underestimate the power of disbelief.

The double-edged sword of belief/disbelief has severed, cut up and divided more of this world than any other ability. More than the ability to start a war. More than the ability to stone a woman to death with the sharpest stones. More than all the lies and half-truths and broken marriages combined. It has the power to split giant, old churches right down the aisle!

If the ultimate goal for the globe is unity, then this dichotomy is dichotomously the greatest ally and the greatest threat. If only there were some way around it…

If only there were a way to get you to see more, see bigger, elevate your point of view just like you did at the beginning to see that every piece of land is in fact an island. If you do not expand your point of view, how do you ever hope to understand or expand your relationship with the world around you? Until then, you will continue to think in small, boxed up terms, in very straight lines while concentric circles dance all around your imprisoned perception.

No wonder you are so easy to overwhelm, you must feel dizzy nearly all the time, you must feel like you are on the verge of vertigo every moment something sudden happens. You are completely out of rhythm with the regular flow of life. You are at odds with it. You are blind to the fact that everything constantly flows back into itself. Like it or not. As if seasons were a symbol for all that is on this planet. You haven’t figured out through experience that time does not exist and that energy is, in fact, overabundant.

You think you have to make a choice, you think that you have to make big sacrifices, that you can’t possibly have or do everything that you want. Cake or death. Cake or life. Cake. Icing. Crumbs. Death.

This point of view is understandable. You think everything you do is separate and you must allot this amount of time to this or ELSE. And you must allot some other amount of time to that OR ELSE as well. So many choices! So many choices consciously made that do not need to be scrutinized at all. So much thinking that gets processed and colored by isolation and tainted by your fears. It is possible that 80% of the choices you make you make out of fear. Thankfully, that 20% you make out of love are mixed right in, and due to the potency of these choices, they are the only thing keeping this failed system afloat.

Just another day in the life, livin the way of the knife, can’t get away from the strife cuz everyday is a fight. Like a buffet where every bite is full of dismay and plight. I pray for light, but everyday is dark as night, without a spark of hope in sight, the rope’s too tight and I choke more the more I fight...

That is how you see and speak about things on most days, isn’t it? This is why you believe you have to make a choice between inseparable things, like raising your children today and actively creating the future world. And yet you guard this choice like a den mother, as if the two “choices” are not part of the same circle. As if the future is not being determined by every single decision you make today. As if everything you do in one will not flow directly into the other, without any EFFORT at all. As if helping me help the world or help YOURSELF is very selfish of you, and will never be anything but.

Such a limited point of view….no wonder why you worry so much. No wonder why you choose fear so many times out of ten. No wonder why.

It’s all on you, huh? Yeah, it’s all on you here on planet Dirt. There’s just nothin else workin for you here, is there? It’s amazing the whole place doesn’t implode, doesn’t dis-integrate—considering the lack of belief you put into everything it tries to teach you and every carefully woven olive branch it offers.

Each of us has the power of a lion, and yet we live with the meekness of blind mice.

We live in a world full.

We live in a world full of lions who have forgotten they are kings.

We live in a world full of lions all part of the same pride.

And so you live in a world full of fear and isolation, in which every other breath bespeaks desolation. And begets it in the next exhale.

In truth, you live in a whirlpool. You are but one of 7 billion circular drops being slowly pulled into a few million smooth curves and some of you are fighting this process every single ripple of the way.

You are all bending in the same arc, in various perfectly turning circles, all moving in the same direction, all getting closer to the point of center. The center. The center where there is nothing but unity, where you move so fast everything seems to be standing still—long enough for each piece to tell you the tale of its existence and, by doing so, bring you more peace through a grander vision of Purpose in place.

The planet you live on is a whirlpool. And like a whirlpool there is sense in every element of its design. It is not a planet born of chaos, slowly rising up. It is, instead, made up of so many moving circles. It is a planet at one point of several overlapping circles. Circles that are all moving together in the same direction. Like a moon to a planet, like a planet to a solar system, like a solar system to a galaxy, like a galaxy to a…..

Do you really think that these exact parallels, these….living echoes, mean NOTHING to US? That we are somehow exempt? Even though we are in the middle of it all. Do you think these shapes have nothing to tell us even though they get repeated everywhere we look? Do you really think there is an END to their repetitions in EITHER direction? Do you really think that they are all NOT connected?

And if you do….why? Why do you see such chaos? An endless series of coincidences?

Is it because you believe everything that cannot speak was not given a story to tell?

A story that rings of truth?

If the wild animals of this planet could speak, do you think they would see chaos and destruction in what they do? In how they live? Or would they see order and balance? Maybe even symmetry? Would they see and sense sense and a constant given, a given constant, a constant give and take that seems to WORK just fine in seeming perpetual motion?

If the Earth could speak, and give its opinion on every species that exists….what do you think it would say about us? What do you think it would see in how we live?

Might it say: “Man is the only creature that consumes without producing.” Might it ask us why “man serves the interest of no creature except himself?”

Might it even tell us a story of how everything was balanced in harmony until one species came into power and from that point on there has been constant disarray? And instead of blaming themselves for all the disorder they see and experience all around them (the disorder they themselves set in motion), instead of blaming themselves EVERYDAY, this species worships the power and projects the fault onto ANYTHING it can. Women, the past, sinners, snakes, the moderates, the conservatives, lack of this, too much of that, evil, human nature, and even the odd God.

Instead of blaming themselves everyday and seeing their “power” for what it really is, they simply create stories set in the past to blame their PAST selves. In a past where they have no power, as far as they are now concerned. A story of absolution for man walking the planet today, so that he or she can say, “That’s just how it is and how it’s always been, not much I can do about that really, but it’s not like I’m all that bad anyway.” Then he or she wipes his or her oily hands, as if that could clean them forever, and then goes on the interwoven way in colorblind ignorance.

This is the story being told all around us, but we have told ourselves to not believe it. We have told ourselves that our one story makes more sense than the billion being told for ages and still today. Doubt once gave rise to fear and fear begat the disillusioned, who came to believe in this illusion. But the greatest stories of all are always true stories, so it makes sense that the simplest, truest story of all, would also be the most fantastic, ergo—the hardest to believe.

The world is a beautiful whirlpool and it has been spinning and spinning and spinning for millions of years. And it is constantly working towards one thing: unity in balance. The sooner you see that, the sooner your life will start working for you all the time, instead of against you. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you will be able to enjoy every second of the ride, and an opportunity will never again feel like a burden. And every choice you make will never bring pain without also bringing the healing light of joy.

You like that everything is so “divisible and clear,” or at least you think that makes things clear: “SO…Definable!” The irony is…it is all these divisions that are confusing the hell out of you. Literally. And the longer we live, the more divisions we seem to make, and the more confused and fearful we become. When, at what point, do we start seeing the connections and start putting things back together again?

This is my question.

Think on it. It seems as though that is all some of you are able to do for now. Until you stop telling the universe everything you can’t do, and start remembering all you already have.