Thursday, November 19, 2015

Disparity of Emotion

The existence of small legitimacies 
Create a disparity of emotion.

Purely on the baseline of an ear lobe or a name,
Tribes kill and Neolithic hunters maim.

Yet absence of motion generates the persistence of lack.
The empty cup stands still because no one will drink.

Within a harbor 
subject to tides but hidden from waves dwells true devotion.

Desert rain is measured as constraint,
Much moisture, a restraint.
Old bones float like broken sticks along a broken stream.

Pain can be a pleasant consistency
Yet, brilliant joys, like falling stars incite a fatal gain.



Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Two roads diverged in my life...

Every day I walk to and from school. There are many reasons why I do this, but the unavoidable fact is that I can't drive my car right now. At first, I was mortified. I acted arrogantly, but inside I was filled with shame every time a car passed. There I was, a Major, walking to class because I couldn't afford to fix my car during a tough divorce. Every day, I castigated myself for all of my mistakes. During those 2 fifteen minute increments of time each day, I beat myself up mentally into a bloody pulp. "Walk! You stupid idiot! Walk!!", I screamed like a drill instructor inside my head. "You did this to yourself, so just TAKE IT! You earned every second of this." Those walks lasted forever.

However.

Over several months, something happened. First, I really began to enjoy the walk. It was beautiful, and I saw amazing small things like brilliant fall leaves, the sound of wind, a dog running magnificently along the golf course while his master in a riding mower followed... The morning light through a spider web. 


Second, I got tougher. I began to think iof the walk as nothing. Modern life tends to measure value in terms of time and efficiency. Granted, my walk was a slower way of traveling, but the qualitative effect on my life was significant. I simply started my day a little earlier.

It also put things in perspective. What would have been an enormous inconvenience to the pre-existing divorce "maze-runner" Mike suddenly became a welcome daily event to the calmer and more thoughtful post-divorce Michael. I had dedicated quiet time to think and reflect every day. I actually looked forward to this time. Once, I got soaked in a sudden downpour, but that became just another adventure and a funny story.

Today, as I walked, I realized that as I am close to fixing my car, I will have the option to drive. As I mulled it over, it didn't take long for me to concede that I still plan to walk, even with the car fixed.

As I strode along in the crisp November air, I slowly came to the following understanding:

There is a difference between a walk of humiliation and the walk of humility.

A person is forced to walk in humiliation. It is imposed externally and stems from shame. However, the person ignores the root issue, and instead chooses avoidance and denial. While a walk of humiliation may end with a respite to pain, it is only temporary. The root motive and cause remains intact. It may not happen immediately, but that person is bound to meet that pain again.

A person CHOOSES to walk in humility. While external forces may force them to walk, their attitude of acceptance has a transcendent effect on the whole situation so that it becomes a positive learning event.

A walk of humility may start out humiliation, but a person always has a choice to accept reality and submit to the pain of consequences willingly. Their cooperation helps transform the defective part of their personality, usually an extension of ego, so that they learn to overcome the root cause of their mistake. What started as a cringing creep of shame blooms into a positive and restorative journey.

Their pursuit of responsible behavior  rescinds the sting of shame and replaces it with dignity and respect.

In time, the walk of humility becomes the path to victory.


🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 🚶 

Resurrect Annabel Lee

Phantoms and ghosts 
Green velvet and silk sheets
A man alone, dying in bed.
A hand may hold the blade,
But the mind cuts instead.
Only one man,
Made of molecules
Ten ounces of Toynbee strength.
Journey to Jupiter
Seek resurrection 
A girl Poe loved- 
She's been long dead.
Life for Annabel Lee,
A worthy campaign.
If Annabel may live,
So may Poe, 
Then for all of us,
There's hope.
Only one man,
Made of molecules
Ten ounces of Toynbee strength.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Francesca Woodman's Bicycle

Glacial yet weightless
A vision of blurred figures
Luminous air
Still Providence afternoons 
Ancient and peeling RISD rooms.
A slow progression like a drifting balloon.
Traveling Infinite spaces between 
Clumps of paintbrushes
Stacked like silent spears in big tin cans 
Crumpled toothpaste tubes of oils and acrylics
Laid out on weathered wood 
Semblance of linear order,
Bodies of disaster victims, faces covered.
There is no blood
But adjacent to memory
Spattered paint speaks to a distant Pollock violence.
Curses on your back, you who broke that lock.
Shame to you who removed the chain-
When you stole her bicycle, 
You killed her just the same. 
We will never know your name,
But we shall remember hers.
Francesca, 
Every day I think of art, 
You live in me again.