Finding your way to the Beginning

Finding Your Way to the Beginning

I’ve not posted as of recent

Not nearly as often as ideas spewed into my speaking mind

 Particularly those topics I discuss with myself within my skull, with no one listening; discussion requires two. Yet, as of late, I have had an experience surface for my attending this whole notion of purpose; be it divine or self-appointed.

   I’ve heard purpose used in a multitude of ways; all as inspiration for the listener to get their act together.  Still, I’ve come to respect the best lessons of life are bought by failure and not happenstance of good fortune.  When it comes to plans coming out, we readily forget past successes as we chew on unfairness of those ripped from endeared clutching.  I’ll add to that observation, I believe for the lesson to have a really lasting impression, there needs to be a certainty that shatters.  I say that with full intention to focus not on failure to meet projected end states; or desires unfulfilled, but rather a personal certainty born upon subjective prediction that failed to meet the reality test.  At those devastations lies the gift of true awareness.

I’ve my own history of taking my-own-darn-sweet-time learning a lesson.  I have adequate scars in all the levels of existence; physical, emotional and mental, attesting to my not-so-clear-headed, slovenly executed plans.  Only in the rectitude of not being asked to leave this earthly plane can I cringe at my foolishness; but in actuality, I was just blinded by my certainty.

Where did I learn to ignore the facts?  Clearly I can’t recall being set down by my parents and advised to follow my own passionate configuration of how the world should be.  Nor was it some teacher advocating the merits of delusional thinking.  The jury is still out concerning my religious indoctrination since I’m leaning towards an acceptance of the general anxiety in that realm for me to swallow their doctrine whole as a template for the order of things.  But I’m not so much looking for a culprit, but rather a point where my beginning had been corrupted.  I am confident I wasn’t always like this, as many would say in their laments.  I also am acutely aware of going from generalities to specifics back to generalities as I ponder the whispering question in my head, “Is this the way of decrepity ?”

  I had been passionately convinced it was just a question of time until being discovered; for me to realize a dream of doing music for a living.  Then, as the fantasy waned by decades of depravation I gladly offered it upon my altar of sacrifice for art’s sake, did I realize my delusion; I moved on to writing with desire to be heard.

No kidding, I was well into adulthood and continued to foster a child’s unrelenting need, no, anguish to be heard. 

Of course, because it was so well rooted into my psyche, I couldn’t  sort it out from the muddle into the open light of actual until it ran its course; like a fever.  But it did run its course, and I was left dry and callous towards the lover who seduced me with promises laced in if I only… (fill in the blank.)

I was once new;

in the beginning 

There were no concepts of necessary

to feel joyful

I just was

Perhaps it was when I started to listen,

To really listen, to the questions asked of me

I noticed

some of those questions were repeated

frequently;

by many

“Why did you do that?”

To my fresh mind

It was a ridiculous question

A playful ruse

to find value in absurdity

It was so nakedly obvious

To see what would happen of course

It’s taken me over a half of a century

to find my way back

to the beginning

To the pure delight of action

a desire to witness

What will change?

 like a firefly on a summer night

Predict the next spellbinding

Brilliant

flash.