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You know.

May 11, 2011

A poem:

Where the meaning stops

And the feeling pops

Emotions running pure and true

Shut off the mind

If you have the time

To sit inside you

Inside you

To find it out

Just exactly who you are

‘Who you are’

As though it’s written

On some milk carton

A tangible reality

Pulled down like gravity

To sit inside

Inside your mind

Explode in visions

Of wallpapered flowers

Trying to bring it down to you

‘Who you really are’

So close, yet so far

Causing damage and inner pain

Searching for the puzzle piece

Trying to keep sane

All the while going insane

Sit and wonder

Take a breath and start to plunder

Breath in

Breath out

Breath in

Breath out

Breath in, Breath out, Breath in, Breath out

Let go

And then you know

Then you know

Then you know

Then you know

You really, really, really,

Really

Know

Just let it go and you know

You know, you know, you know

You know

There’s nothing there to know.

All we can know is that we do not know.  We are not these fixed and easily sorted things.  We need to know.  We need to be able to make sense of things and, when you spend every single moment of a whole lifetime with yourself, in your own head, you’d think ‘knowing who you are’ would be a given.  Would be easy.  So, it’s very frustrating.

And time consuming.

And, ultimately, off the mark.

We are constantly evolving.  Changing.  We are fluid.  And ‘who we are’ isn’t tangible or concrete.  Or known.

What we want.  What we believe life is.  Where we’ve been.  Where we are.  Where we’d like to go.  These things can be tangiblized.  These things we can know.

Our defense mechanisms.  Our coping habits.  What ‘works’ – meaning what creates an “acceptable” (judged by our standards) outcome, what leads to desirable consequences and what doesn’t.  These can be examined, evaluated — and the decision to hold onto or let go for different tools — can be made.

The moment or moment building or unraveling….so minute…perhaps we need to let go of ‘knowing’ and be aware, accept, and embrace the not knowing.  The: this is where I’m at because of the decisions I’ve made.  I like it or I don’t. If I don’t , I need not dissect how I’ve gotten here as much as figure out where I want to be and how I get there.

Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping into the future…want to reverse, stand still or move forward doesn’t matter.  We move forward.  Time passes.  We must accept this and figure out a way to happily march onward, in our own being, in our own way.  Because we’re going, so we might as well enjoy the ride…it’s ends far too soon.

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