The Woman as a Black Hole

Colour follows you

as you tease out the secrets of the world around you

Forever precious to the world within

The universe stands transfixed upon every event on your horizon

and holds its breath

waiting for you to trickle back

with a thought,

a look,

a question

You are radiant as the confidence you hold

Standing and at the edge of the sky

cutting even time itself to ribbons and strings

and love

finds you as if you speak the language of heart's harp itself

drawn to you as its sister

its friend,

its hero

tracing out a path of least resistance

to glow in the shadows of your dance

You are the world's best kept mystery

great four-hundred times four-hundred over and again

understood by too, too few

and known by too few less

-Philip Rey Miguel

© 31 August 2014

The Best Policy

About a year or so ago I had this "amazing" thought that it would be a good idea to have a week of truth (this idea may or may not have been inspired by Yes Man) where I would answer any question I was asked with complete honesty for the entirety of the the week and to the satisfaction of the inquisitor. That was scrapped rather quickly upon the realization that it was just way of (arrogantly) declaring how honest I have the capability of being.

This was all sprouted from the idea that honesty is a virtue but I'm not so sure about that these days. I've found it just as double-edged as anything else you can swing. The most hurtful things I've ever said to people were cut with the dagger of honesty so I have a hard time believing that it's the end-all, be-all.

Am I missing something? Those that stand behind honesty's banner seem so sure of it, but to me it just seems like an excuse to say all the things that don't need to be heard.

A New, Very Old Poet

A few gems from a newly discovered poet, Hafez.

This Sky:

This

Sky

Where we live

Is no place to lose your wings

So love, love

Love

Integrity:

Few
Have the strength
To be a real
Hero --

That rare
Man or Woman
Who always keeps
Their
Word.

Even an angel needs rest
Integrity creates a body so vast

A thousand winged ones will
Plead,

"May I lay my cheek
Against
You?"

I Have Learned so Much:

I
Have Learned
So much from God
That I can no longer call myself

A Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim
A Buddhist, a Jew.

The truth has shared so much of itself
With me

That I can no longer call myself
A man, a woman, an angel,
Or even pure
Soul.

Love has
Befriended Hafiz so completely
It has turned to ash
And freed
Me

Of every concept and image
My mind has ever known.

Different Wells In Your Heart:

There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.

In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,
That “love” is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.

Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket to protect you.

On One's "Nature"

Today at 9 in the morning (atypically early for a incurable night owl such as myself) I attempted to park in my parking spot at my apartment to find a red Cadillac (License plate #921SGR) occupying my space.

*What to do in this situation*

Obviously, the first reaction is to get that bastard towed. You let them go this one time and it's a slippery slope. You give them a parking spot and they take the parkade... or something.

The second option, since I was leaving for work momentarily would just be to leave them in the spot since I wouldn't be using it before the tow truck got there to relieve them of my spot and parking for me would be around a dollar at the meter before I left for work in either case.

I opted for the second with a message to tell the aforementioned driver that they did not deserve that parking spot and what they actually deserved was a $300+ towing bill.

Is this wrong? Am I setting myself up to be walked over and abused? The short answer is yes.

Here is the long answer:

Upon returning to my car at the meter (a bit late) I found a curious little slip of paper tucked under my windshield wiper and here is what it said:

***
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside all people.
He said, My son, the battle is between two 'wolves' inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked the grandfather, 'Which wolf wins?'
The old Cherokee simply replied,
'The one you feed'
***

I'm aware of what I am setting myself up for. I'm not stupid. And when I find that this tactic is not working for me I will find another one. And if I ever see that red Cadillac again, he's getting towed. And I'll do that with the knowledge that the slope slides in both directions.

A poem I've rediscovered after over a decade

Fate

TWO shall be born the whole wide world apart;
And speak in different tongues, and have no thought
Each of the other’s being, and no heed;
And these o’er unknown seas to unknown lands
Shall cross, escaping wreck, defying death,
And all unconsciously shape every act
And bend each wandering step to this one end,—
That, one day, out of darkness, they shall meet
And read life’s meaning in each other’s eyes.
And two shall walk some narrow way of life
So nearly side by side, that should one turn
Ever so little space to left or right
They needs must stand acknowledged face to face.
And yet, with wistful eyes that never meet,
With groping hands that never clasp, and lips
Calling in vain to ears that never hear,
They seek each other all their weary days
And die unsatisfied—and this is Fate!

~ Susan Marr Spalding

Who do you think you are?

I'm often conflicted with the ideas of whether or not to post a blog or comment on things. Who am I to say that my words carry any sort of great worth out into the universe. That's just pompous... right?

Over the summer I had a friend absolutely humbled by the role he was cast for in a musical. He was certainly talented enough for the part. He can sing well, he's a capable actor, there was no preferential treatment given to him in terms of casting. He even looked the part but for a long while, and despite constant and honest encouragement, he couldn't accept that he was worthy of depicting his character. I should probably mention that he was cast as Jesus Christ.

Now, I understand the enormity of attempting to depict such an epic person/God come down/saviour of the world and having to live up to that but the fact of the matter is that my friend honestly was the best man for the role.

I've come to the conclusion that I am nobody in this matter. Just another voice against the ocean of the rest of humanity. It's not for me to decide my own worth. I'm worthy of myself, (this is mostly a useless tautology but in this context I'm using it to differentiate from being worthy of others) that's obvious and unavoidable so to decide your own worth based on your own existence is just a dizzying exercise in futility.

If anybody gets to decide if the world should care about what I do it shouldn't be me. If the world doesn't deem it worthy of being caught it will not catch it. Then, I presume, I'll be no worse off and no more alone than I was in the first place. That's cool. If the world does happen to catch the general direction of the drift of my idea. Then that's cool too.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

The universe is still expanding, hence, I blog.