As many of you know, often even just as a form of therapy, I write some free-verse type poetry. It is likely crude, even offensive to true poets. But I wrote this recently. This is a holiday gift to you.
Change. It evokes in us a feeling of fear. As if in embracing it, we
will not something new gain, rather might
experience loss. We fear what we possess is scarce, and in letting
it go, moving forward
we might never recover what we left behind. We hold on fruitlessly to
poison. Grip sickness tightly to our chests, embracing day after day the
harm. Whispering to the hurt the words: “I love
you. I love you. I love you.”
While it stabs us, screaming in rage: “Die!
Do not seek to live! Die!”
Something changed in me yesterday.
Not for want of trying before. For try
For who wants to live in a storm
of jealousy, fear, anxiety, dependent upon another
for the security of one’s soul?
I surveyed those surrounding me. Enabling those
who did not love them to maneuver
their feelings, govern their actions, the unwitting
control born of fear.
Fear of loss. Fear of rejection. Fear their lover
might yell. Their soul mate might begin a conflict
over a misplaced dish, a toilet seat left up
A roll of paper around a cardboard tube, be it
towels or that meant for more private business.
Their lives were filled with anxiety, that un-medicated
might for them spell “The End” whether by their own
hand, physical or psychological consequence.
So often, I thought myself above it all. Seldom swayed
by the opinion of others. Rarely dependent on their view
of me for my self-esteem. My confidence arising from the well
Belief in myself. Belief in the ultimate logic of
the world around me. Inner peace was my desire, and yet
for some reason my search was thwarted. Instead I fought.
Fought for peace. Expecting it from conflict to rise.
Struggled against the world and those around me for possession
of my inner sanctuary.
My heart was attacked. Not by one against which I must defend, and
keep out. But one who, with gentle knock, simple affirmation, offered
an insight. The fault we see in others is so often the area in which
Dependence. Jealousy. A sense of divine right. Anxiety. A fear of
what those around me might find lacking in me, and thus deride rather
Peace lay there, an offering of acceptance boxed not in indifference, often
my packaging of choice, but rather in love.
Rather seek to keep out the invasion of true
compassion and kindness, instead I shouted the order loud and without
reservation. “Open the gates!”
Open. The invader came, not with sword, and shield, but with a look that
compelled me to set mine aside. My companions within fled from the
power of the new presence. Fear, anxiety, dependence, and jealousy took
flight, not looking back. An embrace, both welcome and new, overtook
a place in my chest. The new invader and I became one.
A change. Accepted, not repelled. Not brought on by yet
another source of dependence. For in holding on to that which is
so precious, surely we become dependent again. And it on us, our happiness
tied to mood.
Secured by fleeting feelings, rather than loyalty. Loyalty, not a feeling but
a commitment, one that when true leaves no room for jealousy, fear, anxiety,
or loss. For it does not selfishly say “You are mine.” Or with false selflessness
proclaim “I am yours.” Rather it says simply:
“I am I,
You are you. So we are we.”
Out fear. I used to fall to you. No more.
Out jealousy. I will no longer try to possess that which is not mine.
Out anxiety. What is worry of tomorrow but negative expectations?
Out dependence. My worth will no longer be tied to the perception of another.
As I push these out, I must in their place put something.