Fear

It distorts your view and makes an enemy of your friend.
It prevents you from diving into the ocean. 
It builds an invisible wall between you and what is real.
It holds you hostage inside the box of your own making.
You hide behind the veil of concrete and occasionally come up for air, always surprised by its sweetness.
You approach near and sprint back, just to come back and taste the honey, if only with your eyes.
One step forward, two steps back, circling around, going nowhere.
While all I wanted to do was to explore the depths of you.

A Complete Piece of Life.

Might be better. The great big rock that has been sitting wherever it's been sitting, supporting thousands of pounds of weight over its lifetime. The stories it has heard and the tears he has gathered. The winds it has witnessed and the heat it has withstood. The wisdom is has gathered. Its depth must be unfathomable. Might be better to be a rock than a human. A single human with heaps of pain carried through all the generations. The scenes he has seen. The drama he has lived. The stories he has told the unmoving rock. The rock is. The human does. And while the latter speaks and moves, his suffering is incomparable to that of a still piece of stone. Might be much better to be an observer. Who is to say which one of the two is kinder and of greater assistance. Who is to confirm which one lives freely. As a life piece complete. 

Be Careful

There isn't a heaven and there isn't a hell.
There is only a choice that we make each day.
It's all a construction of too many men
Who hadn't discovered the truth or much else.

You need not be threatened. Is that what you want?
Feeling uplifted feels better than that.
If beauty's around, you'll likely want more
Fist's hard fall on your head makes no sense at all.

The wish for inclusion is great indeed
At least from this corner. At least through this feat.
What more can be done than action put forth
Be careful, men, the flame's just been birthed.

Could Be Anything

The trees are bare and then they're full.
The sun has set and the moon is blue.
All birds are quiet before the storm.
And I, alone, sit on thy throne.

His steps are soft.
His touch conveys
The buried moss
On winters' days.

The flower now becomes a seed.
The leaves have fallen at thy feet.
You look around and then at me.
Your smile speaks of humanity.

And I step down
From the above,
Because it isn't
Where I belong.

I am in the trees and in the fields.
The setting sun is my retreat.
The bird takes off with my envy
Into the sky of depth and wish.

Your step is light.
Your touch's a breeze
Along my thin,
My weathered skin

And we are walking hand in hand.
The steps are equal in their lengths.
All nature's gifts are on display,
And we are nothing more than vain.

Invest in Humanity

It all started because I had dinner. I am probably the least informed person on this planet about anything and everything, so this information came as a shock to me. Did you know that we have migrant workers? Of course, you did! Did you know that they follow the crops every few months, like nomads? Did you know that they have children who also move every few months, like nomads? Did you know they miss days and days of school? Did you know that they have to change schools regularly? Did you know that they fall behind other kids? And did you know that some children have terrible medical problems and need to be in constant need of attention and consistent medical care? And did you know that these medical issues are likely to have been caused by the heavy use of the pesticides on the farms that their parents are exposed to? And did you know, for instance, that PepsiCo's Tropicana product made $6.2 billion in revenue in 2011? And do you know what it's costing us, really costing us, to have a new generation of people continue to live in poverty, uninspired, struggling, ill, uneducated, and defeated?I do not know how to run a company. I only wonder about this: is it possible to take a little bit of the profit and establish a system where the working conditions and the plight of the migrant worker are taken a bit more seriously? Where the vision is long-term and broad rather than narrowly focused on simply increasing revenue? Is it possible? Is it possible to think about taking responsibility and ownership for the future of this earth and its inhabitants? How unreasonable is it to ask brilliant businessmen to invest a few more dollars in humanity? Don't they know it is the next generation that will take care of them on their deathbeds?I know that I am taking a stand off to the left of the political spectrum here. I also do not condemn the wealth in of itself. I am only questioning our values. When did it become ok to make money by exposing people to hazardous environments, by moving them around like cattle, by neglecting their children's education just to keep the high profit margins? There must be a point beyond which no amount of money will impact the quality of life, so why not give back a little more? Let's not stunt the growth of the little, defenseless creatures who have appeared on this earth. They need all the nurturing in the world, just like the seeds planted by their parents do.

Systems

We were talking about systems, and the topic invaded my thought process. 
We humans, we do not like to be put into any system. We want freedom.. and yet.. Systems are necessary. Even our own bodies have multiple systems: circulatory, nervous, musculoskeletal just to name a few. Systems are probably structures without which nothing can move. Like anything, there are two sides of the coin. Hence, systems can support us, or they can destroy us. Systems represent values. If our values are different from the system we may be in, we suffer. If the system is supportive to our growth process, our expression, we applaud it. It may also be true to say that we can use the system or be used by the system. In the latter case, our life experience can be close to hellish. 

There is the human body with its multiple systems.
The welfare system.
The yoga system.
The healthcare system.
The family unit system. 
The political system.
The solar system. 
The education system. 
The economic system. 

These are the walls we function within while largely aware of the deficiencies of each one. 
And in the end, it all boils down to one thing: were these systems invented by the humankind actually serving the humankind? Did humanity become happier, healthier, more vibrant, more evolved as a species? It goes from there...

With Warmth

Maybe the gods are crying when it rains.
Maybe mother earth is taking a shower.
And maybe I'd like to believe a romantic story, because I see so much damage being done by us to us. 
Maybe I don't want to believe that it's each man for himself.
Maybe I need to retrieve my rose-colored glasses and return to the day before they were knocked off.
Maybe I am craving the return to innocence.

Because there is a car accident ahead of me.
Because that could have been me.
Because life is fragile.
Because we cannot continue feeling great for winning over somebody.
Because we ARE in it together.
Because we cannot be fulfilled by gathering more.

And as he was working uphill, I was sliding down.
We collided, circled each other in a dance of confusion and intrigue, and continued on our original course.
Maybe it was necessary.
Maybe it was nothing.
Maybe it was wonderful.
Maybe it was chaotic.
Because the gods are crying.
Because this life is a maze.
Because the paths may be different with the finish line being the same.

The Dynamics

I feel compelled to explain, starting with the dance floor- a venue so familiar and powerful to me.

She makes him look good. It is acknowledged by him and by the spectators. It is that obvious. What is not so obvious to the spectators is how it came about that she makes him look so good. 

When watching a dance, almost inevitably the attraction is the beautiful woman. Her partner is almost a backdrop while she's the centerpiece. Her attributes of grace, poise, power, timing (just to name a few) seem to reach perfection. Her elegant or otherwise captivating movement draws the spectator in. The performance is beautiful and satisfactory. Everyone is enjoying himself to the fullest. 

It is very likely, almost guaranteed, that she is an accomplished dancer. She can hold her own. She can mesmerize in her own right. However, there is more to the story. When dancing with her partner, it is because of his skill, his lead, his reading of her, his adjustments, his loving presence that she can fully display her talents and abilities. He is her stable support and foundation. Because he is able to provide such stability, her trust in him is implicit. She's able to relax and shine in all directions. Her glow is so strong, there is no escaping her making him look good. 

The man's role is to support the woman. The woman will reciprocate in ways unimaginable. The key for such a thing to happen is two-fold: a man must have impeccable technique and be solid on his own, and he must appreciate the woman. He knows that the only way he will look really good is if she looks great. 

And so the next time a man wants to look good or feel good, it is in giving to the woman that he will have the opportunity to receive that which he desires. It will not happen just because she's there, for she will not be able to sustain all of who she is without his considerate support. It will not happen if he demands, expects, coerces, or otherwise extracts the beauty out of her delicate being.

And while this piece uses the relationship that takes place on the dance floor, it is fully applicable to any relationship outside the dance floor. May we have enough understanding of the different roles we play in order to walk through life gracefully and joyfully. May our relationships be grounds for freedom and growth rather than become our ball and chain. 

Life's Work

To your and to mine
I raise my life.
To give, just to give
I throw my might.
To be for oneself
Works well in the well.
To stand for the world
Takes walking through hell.

When I become free,
I'll take you with me.
And you need not fear-
Your safety is dear
To me.
I'll love you and you
And you and you
I'll be empty enough
To hold any of you.

And maybe you'll find
The courage to cry.
And maybe you'll see
All that you can be.
And maybe we'll sing
At last, as one being.

To your and to mine
You will raise your life.
To give, just to give
You will throw your might.
And on to the next
You will pass the power
Until we each stand
As a blossomed flower.

That Simple

Really... It is that simple. 
When the music plays and the singer makes beautiful tones with his voice. 
When the body moves and the soul rises. 
When the experience of the experience is outside the mind's perception.
When the boundary liquifies and the emotion wells up in the throat and the eyes.
When the observer hovers over the moment and the tension dissipates.
When all seems simple and easy.
When clarity makes its inconsistent appearance.
When the glasses are taken down.
When grace is felt.
When love is.
When help is there.
When truth is all there is.
When freedom is near.
When all that wants to come out is a long, slow, powerful sound as breath.
To be spread into the vastness and into all the existence.
When I see you.
When I want to shake you.
When I embrace you.
When I turn you upside down.
When all there is to know is that all is ok. When there is nothing to fear. When there is nothing to hide. When there is nothing to win. When there is nothing to take. When there is nothing to protect. 
Then.... we float. All of us. 
Really... It is that simple. 

Tired

The flood. It is unable to stop itself. Is it the path of least resistance? Is it the light at the end of the tunnel? The winds are blowing in this direction and all the debris and the living creatures are caught up in their power. What their experience is of the journey is only for them to know. What their experience is of the landing is theirs and their only, all but for one exception. The destination has seen many arrivals. Arrivals with their idiosyncrasies, personalities, colors, shapes, speeches, dances, and numerous other qualities. They land, usually hard, usually blinded, usually startled, usually surprised. The reactions may be different and the end result is nearly always the same: the once pristine landscape is torn at its soft edges. It shudders and contracts and slowly retreats, for the newcomers know not what they are doing. And the grandeur of the journey's end is simply overwhelmed-the imperceptible bleeding made possible by the travelers' incognizant rawness.