A mirror,
still lake reflection,
revealing myself
to the one who looks;
I am as I am.
Life is not a test I take to get right answers;
always go for C if you don’t know,
that was my motto,
scribble something in pencil just light enough on those wooden desks,
keep the paper between my legs out of view,
the notes on my hands covered,
so the teacher can’t see me cheating,
to try to be correct;
that deep fear of failure
cloaked in pride and hiding.
Confusion is a saving grace
that keeps me from thinking
I know what I do not
certainty stealing wonder;
there is no time for that,
class is over.
The rest of us,
we may pretend to have ourselves together,
standing on stable ground and spinning with momentum,
holding on breathe by breathe,
unwilling to admit truth even to ourselves,
that truth that cuts through such shows
of what is done to stay liked and in control.
It is devastating to destroy illusions,
that have firmly been bought into,
and yet freedom demands it.
When I wake up
I no longer believe
those subliminal messages
that entered my subconscious
before I knew how to differentiate
and discern what is real from lies.
I’m still learning.
In this process of awakening
there is no way to pass or fail,
get things right or get them wrong,
such thinking
leads to perfection performing
an angel in disguise
or doubt that cripples me from trying.
I look out.
There is no better or worse ways to move forward,
there are paths and there is choice,
what keeps me in movement
towards my ideals,
towards my God?
I look in.
There are no golden stars of praise for my insecurity,
and no way that such 5 cent stickers could heal wounds of lifetimes,
it couldn’t be so easy,
as to come from another,
I would be robbed of my victory if it were.
And they don’t have my answers,
unless questions are multiple choice,
and rules are general and apply to all,
but there is far too much possibility for that,
and instinct does not know of regulations.
Until it is done,
it is not about completion,
this poignant moment,
suspends me like never before,
I am in a medial space,
where I reside
with projections of security
that blind me from seeing
such uncertainty full of potential.
Will I grab onto something familiar?
What, right now, can be born?
It’s all to easy to become comfortable,
to slip into what spins automatic,
the battle begins when I stop and start again.
This life is very precious,
a gift for the soul to see itself,
in those mirrored reflections
of eternal moments.
Time,
the devil,
another delusion,
trying to keep me on track,
playing games with something
way bigger then it could ever be.
My world, my choosing, my responsibility.
What do I want to create?
Humility, strikes me, in worship.
I cannot get it wrong,
and I’m free to more forward,
taking one more step.