Unworried

Needless to say, little is known. Needless to say, my arms have been thrown.

The door has been cracked just slightly 'til now. And then taken down with no sorrow.The lives will be moving without a rest. New pages are turning with no regret.
To be like a baby with eyes wide open. To live like a lady with wisdom flourishing.
Facades can be useful and quite artistic. The upkeep is tough and requires persistence.
Treading along without sticking. Singing and soaring to sky unlimited.
Whatever has been and whatever may be. The course has remained with more certainty. 
Away from all lies. Away from all ties. Away from all drama and unneeded strife.
To rise above. Forget the need to be heard. No matter the world. I remain unworried.

The End of the Road

Not just a fury, and not just a disgust
Not just a disappointment, and not just spitting out the dust.
Profound letting down with truth fully revealed
He stands there naked in front, reveling in own greed.
He thinks he's being honest and sensitive to me
In fact, his words come down with force of serious brutality.
The chips have been put down and all the cards exposed.
The king has been demoted to pawn wearing same clothes.
It's obvious he's proud of such actions and feeling greatly lightened.
He doesn't know the burden has moved to the more enlightened.
And so the chasm has been clean with not much blood being spilled.
The timing is, as usual, couldn't find a better visual.
The path has found its end, a new one will be much more grand.
Onward and with energy, to a life of pure synergy. 

On Death, Part III

Yes, it's that time again to remind us all we are all heading toward the same finish line. It looks exactly the same for all of us, though some will reach it before others. 

It is also time to remind us all that we are heading in that direction by ourselves. We are, un-popularly, all alone on this road. Somewhere, deep inside, the knowledge is there and, at the same time, hidden. Scary to know there is no one but you. Just you. Always was you. Always will be just you. 

The distractions from remembering the aloneness toward this finish are many. Fooling oneself works for some time and yet, no matter how exotic the riches may be, the truth cannot be thrown out with the rest of the trash. Truth, just like you, always was and always will be. 

Truth is only painful when not faced. What is faced becomes known. What is known cannot be feared. When fear is gone, the burden dissolves. Without the burden, freedom sprouts. It is only in freedom that life is possible. No matter the number or lack of distractions.

The time has come to be reminded that we are all heading toward the exact same finish line. The line looks exactly the same for all of us, though some will taste it before others. Shouldn't we cross it gracefully?

The Deepest Desire

This is the everyday scene played in front of my eyes, and I am interested in commenting and exploring the sight. Forgive me for being frank and possibly offensive. I would like to point out that we are all programmed robots. Some kind of a software was installed into our mind and body, and it keeps running our lives. 

We mostly know of the things that are "wrong." We mostly know of what needs to be changed to feel better. We talk about it, complain about it, wish it to be different, and, at the end of the day, no action is taken, no transformation takes place, and the next day is the same as the one before. Some might call our lives as obsessive-compulsive. 

Much could be said about this cycle we find ourselves in. Explanations and reasons could be many. We have already exhausted all of the excuses. It seems as if not seeing a way out, not having the tools to switch train tracks is at the core. I am running along the concrete road, someone is running along me on grass, and while I want to experience the softness of that natural terrain, my body keeps me steady, and I am unable to veer off and touch the green. 

Maybe the answer is in not knowing the how. Maybe the answer is in the seeking of the how. Maybe the answer will be given to us once our longing to know the how is so great, we are unable to remain where we are without falling flat on our face with every step we take. Some might call it pathetic. Some might call it surrender. 

This treatise appears to be leading to the possibility that we might not know much of anything. We might only know that we don't know much of anything. We might only need to seek a vision of the best version of ourselves, and all else becomes revealed to us. 

Our task is simply to desire, with every fiber of our being, to re-write the program that is not and never was ours. 

Internal Revolution

Good point! Why didn't I think of that!? It makes perfect sense. How can one think of changing the world if he, himself, hasn't experienced an internal change of significant proportion? Mr. Gandhi did beg us to "be the change you want to see in the world." Something of gigantic value is to be experienced firsthand before anything of even a small percentage of that value is to be expected of the world. An internal revolution precedes an external one. To know the pain of suffering and to know the height of ecstasy and everything in between are a pre-requisite to saying anything to anyone. To know death and aliveness constitute a requirement to voicing anything to anyone. Search within this body and this being first and the entire humanity is revealed. After that, the dust around all creatures settles. Visibility exponentially increases and walking is closer to flying. 

Our friends, the Beatles, sing "You say you want a revolution. Well, you know, we all want to change the world." There are a million and one problems with everything and everyone else. While a likelihood, the real conflict lies within, making up the problems of "everything," as each one makes up the collective. 

And so the previous statement stands: "Why didn't I think of that!?" Internal revolution and personal transformation first. Then the fruits of persistent labor may fall and the seeds may spread in the wind. How lovely.

Starting To See

I am starting to see how easy it is to be deceived. The mind makes up a story to survive in this world. The trouble is not the story, the trouble is seeing it as the absolute truth. Even science tells us that the brain doesn't know the difference between reality and imagination. Either everything is real or everything is imagined. Either way, all is just a story made up for survival. To put the story aside is akin to putting the mind aside. But! When the mind is removed, what remains? And therein lies the fear. Who am I without my thinking? And what if it's ugly, and what if it's empty? And what if there is nothing, then what to become of me? The sages keep saying that's where life's answers and joy are residing, and yet we're hesitant to enter that realm. The choice is clear: to live by the world created by mind's imagination or to live in the world of life. 

How Simple

How simple it really is:
Once You're gone, then the world exists.
Then the world is there for you to enjoy,
For there is nothing preventing you from living in joy.
And there is nothing to show and nothing to prove
And there is nothing to argue and nothing to move.
There is only the scene in front to be watched
With its highs and its lows, not to be reproached.

How simple it really has been:
Once You have vanished, the life just floods in.
And you sit without walls, agenda, or meaning.
And there is just one feeling that keeps on appearing.
It is called many names and described many ways.
It's been searched for forever in crevasses of heaven.
Yet, the feeling is housed in the space so near.
So close, so easy, so formidably feared.

How simple it really can be:
Once You decide to surrender, your humanity can finally enter.

Stuck by Fright

The conditions of the mind
Shaped by hunger, greed, and fright.
Though the energy is strong
It's misused or turns out spoiled.
Grand ideas find expression
In the words and give momentum
To the hope and the desire
That one day we'll be on fire.
But the next day's sun in sky
Blinds the night's profound mind.
Old conditions and reflections
Powerfully rise in their mansions.
And when energy stagnates
Nothing valuable gets made.
If we could only have the knowing
That possibilities are flowing
In a way we can't describe
Through the logic killed by fright.