Tag: left-field

  • Out of the Blue

    How about those times when something totally unexpected arises? You think you have an idea of where your life is going and – whoosh – you’re left standing in front of the unknown. Does your mind, like mine, scurry to understand, to get things back on track – or do you observe, also like me, with amazement and wonder, watching to see how life will now manifest?

     

    I wonder about the ego mind’s need to know, to live in the delusion that it can actually control events. I wonder about the depth of that insecurity and fear. Do you?

     

    To that mind, the idea of going into that fear and insecurity makes no sense. Though I have ventured in there many, many times, I sit on this threshold feeling the tears and apprehension. Is the scent of despair the mind’s attempt to turn me away from what it sees as an abyss?

     

    This place always fascinates me. I am surprised once again as the heart swells with love and interest in this new state of affairs – something much bigger than all of my history and belief envelops me as I take that first step into ??????

     

     

     

    Here is an old poem that seems fitting –

     

    The Same Old Story

     

    The story’s the same

         The story’s the same

              The heart ever hungers

                   while mind hunts the game

     

    A heart once young as grass in the spring

      dries with the lessons a harsh world can bring

    Childhood’s innocence ran through the fields

      and suffered the trauma that judgment yields

    As I grew up and followed directions

      spontaneity died from other’s inspections

     

    The story’s the same

         The story’s the same

              The heart ever hungers

                   while mind hunts the game

     

    Now that I’m molded like a lump of old clay

      my insides turn brittle as I bake day by day

    My face is chiseled in a permanent frown

      once green pastures have faded to brown

    The body’s a sieve full of old holes

      and life a collection of meaningless roles

     

    The story’s the same

         The story’s the same

              The heart ever hungers

                   while mind hunts the game

     

    When life is a cup emptied by grief

      the heart is readied for famine relief

    A single tear falls on parched desert ground

      prompted by childhood’s shocking rebound

    Pain is a flood like rains in the spring

      swelling the heart as new life they bring

     

    The story’s the same

         The story’s the same

              The heart never hungers

                   while mining its claim.

Open-Secrets