by Kim Addonizio
From The Threepenny Reviews, Winter 2006
feels like such a betrayal: the hurt not denied, not pushed away, but gone entirely for that moment you can't help feeling good in, a moment of sudden, irrational joy over nothing of consequence, really, which makes it all somehow seem even worse. Shouldn't happiness be the result of some grand event, something adequate to counter the aching, gaping chasm that opened when . . . But, no: it's merely this: there goes our little neighbor, running barefoot, no pants, fox stole wrapped around her shoulder.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Moment of Peace
Grogorians and Sarah Brightman
Light up the dark below,
See through the stars,
Reach to the earth's flow
Drift in the joy of our hearts,
Unleash the energy,
Taste of the wine
Drink as a Soul
That knows now, power divine
Light up the dark below,
See through the stars,
Reach to the earth's flow
Drift in the joy of our hearts,
Unleash the energy,
Taste of the wine
Drink as a Soul
That knows now, power divine
Some of my favorite ee cummings
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Insecurity
Round and Round We Go
Some things in life just seem to keep repeating over and over. Do we never learn from getting burnt? Why do we continue to do what we know so much better not to do? Why do we keep making the same mistakes and fuckups again and again and again?
Perhaps the lesson is not to learn from the mistake but, instead is to learn from a lifetime of repeating the same one over and over. Like the beat in a song and inseparable from the song, it continues until the song is over.
What if what is being learned is not getting the lesson? If you ever got it, you would not have gotten it. Perhaps it is not a lesson, only a song we must sing, a dance we must dance. When we get past and outside the right and wrong of it, the good and bad, the happy and sad of it; then we will be able to see and hear the show on the stage on which we play.
What is it like to never be able to sing on key or play an instrument and love music like nothing else in life? What is it like to find one’s soul mate only to find you are not theirs and never find another? What is it like to be born unable to walk and dream of running a marathon? Perhaps in our oneness, each of us has a part similar to these questions to live. Through each of our individual lives, the whole that is all of us, will know intimately; what it means to be without and what it really means to have the gifts we do have. Since those that are without will know the value of what those who have have; even if those that have don’t.
When we look at everything in our lives from our perspective, so much of it makes no sense at all. It is often unfair, cruel, stupid, senseless, selfish and miserable. No matter how much we “know” better, knowing makes not the least bit of difference in what we do. Just maybe there is a deeper knowing and a much larger perspective, that we don’t see that does make sense of it all.
Perhaps or perhaps everything is just really fucked.
Perhaps the lesson is not to learn from the mistake but, instead is to learn from a lifetime of repeating the same one over and over. Like the beat in a song and inseparable from the song, it continues until the song is over.
What if what is being learned is not getting the lesson? If you ever got it, you would not have gotten it. Perhaps it is not a lesson, only a song we must sing, a dance we must dance. When we get past and outside the right and wrong of it, the good and bad, the happy and sad of it; then we will be able to see and hear the show on the stage on which we play.
What is it like to never be able to sing on key or play an instrument and love music like nothing else in life? What is it like to find one’s soul mate only to find you are not theirs and never find another? What is it like to be born unable to walk and dream of running a marathon? Perhaps in our oneness, each of us has a part similar to these questions to live. Through each of our individual lives, the whole that is all of us, will know intimately; what it means to be without and what it really means to have the gifts we do have. Since those that are without will know the value of what those who have have; even if those that have don’t.
When we look at everything in our lives from our perspective, so much of it makes no sense at all. It is often unfair, cruel, stupid, senseless, selfish and miserable. No matter how much we “know” better, knowing makes not the least bit of difference in what we do. Just maybe there is a deeper knowing and a much larger perspective, that we don’t see that does make sense of it all.
Perhaps or perhaps everything is just really fucked.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Cracks in the Darkness
What are cracks in the darkness?
A crack may be only a tiny flaw in an otherwise perfect stone but, it is that flaw which will, with only a slight tap, lead to its destruction. Cracks created in the right places shape uncut diamonds into the exquisite, brilliant stones they become. The crack of a whip can bring pleasure or pain and a crack of thunder will wake you from a sleep to a fantastic fireworks display in the clouds. When all is said and done, it is the tiny crack on the surface which is the catalyst for vast changes in what we perceive as immutable.
How many times have I found myself trapped, alone, in some corner of a seemingly infinite dark depressive void? Knowing without any doubt that, even if I broke free, there would be no where to go, no hope, nothing any better than what has already overwhelmed me.
It is in those darkest moments of hopelessness, when my reasoning and analyzing fail me so completely, that I finally just give up. I become too weak to continue to fight the battle over and over. It is then, when my expectational lenses finally fall from my eyes that I begin to see, it is not really totally dark, cold and empty after all. There is a tiny blemish, a tiny score in the dark void which I missed in all my looking, searching and analyzing of all that was wrong.
As I gaze on that score scratched into the side of the darkness, I see it is, in fact, a crack and there is a feeble light drifting into the darkness. Looking closer, the crack grows and soon my fingers and hands are visible in the light; beautiful, wonderful, loving hands.
The crack grows and comes a window, a door, a room and suddenly a sky; a brilliantly, bright, blue sky, filled with an almost blinding warm light, lifting me higher towards the clouds.
The dark void, gone, melted into the ground, evaporated into nothingness. All this is due to a tiny, insignificant and almost invisible crack.
It is these, the cracks in the darkness which are the seeds of its destruction. No matter how much crap life buries you under, no matter how dark and bleak it becomes, in all the blackness of it all, there are tiny cracks and all it takes is one look, a slight unexpected glance to ignite the light that will vanquish the darkness.
The trick, of course, is in finding the cracks…
A crack may be only a tiny flaw in an otherwise perfect stone but, it is that flaw which will, with only a slight tap, lead to its destruction. Cracks created in the right places shape uncut diamonds into the exquisite, brilliant stones they become. The crack of a whip can bring pleasure or pain and a crack of thunder will wake you from a sleep to a fantastic fireworks display in the clouds. When all is said and done, it is the tiny crack on the surface which is the catalyst for vast changes in what we perceive as immutable.
How many times have I found myself trapped, alone, in some corner of a seemingly infinite dark depressive void? Knowing without any doubt that, even if I broke free, there would be no where to go, no hope, nothing any better than what has already overwhelmed me.
It is in those darkest moments of hopelessness, when my reasoning and analyzing fail me so completely, that I finally just give up. I become too weak to continue to fight the battle over and over. It is then, when my expectational lenses finally fall from my eyes that I begin to see, it is not really totally dark, cold and empty after all. There is a tiny blemish, a tiny score in the dark void which I missed in all my looking, searching and analyzing of all that was wrong.
As I gaze on that score scratched into the side of the darkness, I see it is, in fact, a crack and there is a feeble light drifting into the darkness. Looking closer, the crack grows and soon my fingers and hands are visible in the light; beautiful, wonderful, loving hands.
The crack grows and comes a window, a door, a room and suddenly a sky; a brilliantly, bright, blue sky, filled with an almost blinding warm light, lifting me higher towards the clouds.
The dark void, gone, melted into the ground, evaporated into nothingness. All this is due to a tiny, insignificant and almost invisible crack.
It is these, the cracks in the darkness which are the seeds of its destruction. No matter how much crap life buries you under, no matter how dark and bleak it becomes, in all the blackness of it all, there are tiny cracks and all it takes is one look, a slight unexpected glance to ignite the light that will vanquish the darkness.
The trick, of course, is in finding the cracks…
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Our Deepest Fear
by Marianne Williamson from A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles
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