What you feel is life, what you live is another story.

Author: tomgrasso (Page 28 of 38)

Ode to an Ending

It is time to let go,
Let go of all around me,
Let go of the pull such things may have,
And just let them be.

As setting suns betray the day,
I can hear the foundation of my life cracking around me,
The stones, they fall into the sea
With a splash that resounds in the endless night.

You are but the sand for which I built this foundation,
The rock of salt for which there is no steadfastness,
The time of day for which there is no reply,
Just the memory that seems to say “all things must die”.

There are no hands reaching out to save me,
There are no outstretched arms to comfort me,
Just the unending need to leave behind,
Those things that left me behind long ago.

So, plead not my self,
Nor plead for that which will not come,
Seek solace in the loneliness from whence you came,
And in the solitude for which you are heading.

Do not feel distant my being,
Nor find distance from that pain that sees you alive,
Find comfort in knowing that these things, as all things,
Are but temporary in the moment they are conceived.

For now walk alone with those around you,
Seek to play the tune in which they seek comfort,
And bide the time to bid them farewell,
As they have bid you farewell long ago.

Do not find pain in their ignorance of you,
Nor fall for tricks found in their phony words of love,
Stay true to that which brought you here,
That trust that all things are as they must be.

At last the suns betray this cold night,
A warmer day may appear upon the horizon,
Or a colder blast from that which all things come,
Or from which all things find a reality.

For memories that find themselves in the Now,
Shall die before they take root in the making,
Unless it is me that gives them time to be
Anything other that what they where.

And as I pause to take note of the essence of what is now,
I bask in the glow of knowing such things are in passing,
That the suns shall surely betray this day as well,
And that yet another rock shall crumble into the sea.

But for now I will savor such absence,
Of a caring hand, a loving embrace, a tender kiss,
And know that this rock too shall fall,
Perhaps in the absence .

Such is the ode to an ending,
A cause not withered by time or dreams
But born in them beyond our control,
And to that birth I remain so betrayed.

The Ego of Me

What is the ego? Well, there seem to be two simple answers.

The first one is anything that follows the simple phrase of Being “I am”. Whatever you can put after “I am” ceases to be about the inner self but rather the outward expression of your mind, a form of ego. It is you and your story, it is your identification, it is your need to be something other than what you truly are. It is the “apple in the garden”, the “original sin”, the wedge between Being (God) and you.

“I am ugly”.
“I am fat.”
“I am a Democrat.”
“I am right.”

None of these describe who you truly are, but rather are identification with the outward expression of thought. None of what comes after the “I am” is real…but rather the dust from which it will return.

The second answer is anything that comes after the phrase “you are”. It is what you identify others to be, not what they truly are. It is truth in your eyes only, a judgment that, as all judgments are, is faulty at its conception. It is what you use to either bind another to you or segregate them. They are either with you or like you or they are not. Whenever you follow “you are” with something, it is your own ego assigning the label.

“You are beautiful.”
“You are a loser.”
“You are mean.”
“You are wrong.”

Odd, but when you say to someone “you are beautiful”, it may have come after they have said “I am ugly.” See the fault of judgments? They are based in nothing real, nothing stable. We often might say to someone “you are a loser” right after we ourselves have failed to meet our version of identity in ourselves.

I will leave you with a story. If I was to ask you “what is a tree?”, what would your answer be? Common answers would say “Well, it is branches and leaves and bark and twigs and tissue and roots.” But is that really the tree? Collect the branches and leaves and bark and twigs and tissue and roots and put them in a bucket. Do you now have a tree?

The same thing can be said if I ask “what is a human being?” The common answer may be “Well, he is skin and bones and muscle and blood and water and organs and hair.” Is that really true? Collect some skin and bones and muscle and blood and water and organs and hair and put it in a bucket. Is what you have a person?

What makes the tree a tree and a person a person is not the form you can see. It is the indescribable force that resides beyond the form that not only makes us who we are, but binds us. It is the part of us made in the image of our Creator, the Being in the Human Being. It is the part of us we need to find as we look inward. It is the part of us that is God.

A Cross to Share.

We all have our “cross to bear”…something (or some THINGS) that causes us despair or suffering in our lives. Sometimes these crosses not only cause us to fall, but cause others to suffer in our failing. I find the story of Jesus failing and Simon of Cyrene yet another example of the New Testament bearing the challenges of life into prose and example, and while I am not here to debate the veracity of the story, I am certainly understanding of its place in our lives.

I can personally speak of many things in my early life that led to tremendous failing later in it. There are literally an encyclopedia of instances and times that created my cross, that which I bore for most of my life. There are probably many examples in your own life you can site as a “cross”, and a few times when that cross just became too much to bear. In our weakness, we dropped the weight, fell to our knees exhausted and in utter despair. In other times, we stood weary and weak but defiant, finding our own method of dealing with the torture in our minds, our souls, our “being”. Some turn to drugs, some turn to suicide, some turn to continuous and unrelenting self-destructive behavior meant on “protecting” that self from the dirt below.

I have always found it odd that in my need for self protection and in the practice of self-destructive behavior to that end I seemed to only “wet the wood” of my cross. In that, I made it much heavier than it need be, and the cross itself was only too willing to accept my offering. Stranger yet, the more I “wet” the wood, the more I sought to defy it, as if I knew more that the weight suggested I did. I can only say today that as I stare at the scars on my knees, the bruises on my shoulders and the splinters on my back that I obviously knew far less than I believed. Each scar and bruise is a lesson learned (hopefully), each splinter an example of the futility of attachment, the suffering of ego.

It was only when I could offer my cross to someone willing to bear it with me that I could see the absolute idiocy of attachment to the pain of the past. We all can site a dozen examples of pain in our past we hold on to today. I have heard from friends who have suffered so intensely, not because of the pain itself, but because of their attachment to it.They can’t let go of it, and they use it as a reason or cause for any assortment of issues they have today. Still, when we pass off the lumber to someone we love, we find it utterly torturous to have them deal with the suffering our attachment to pain has caused. In some, this creates unmatched suffering and a dysfunction, to others it causes an awareness of the lunacy such attachment creates.

I can say that when I shared my cross, the suffering it created caused me to seek to shed it completely. That was the purpose of the sharing it seems, to light shed on the idiocy of holding onto it, to finally seek and end to the suffering and my attachment to it.

In our lives, we have many “soldiers” who will whip us into carrying our cross with false strength. They will continually use the “whip” of whatever power they have over use to push us forward, usually to the destination of their choosing. If we fail to reach their assigned destination, they use the power of their “whip” to complete the torture. Our cross (or our attachment to it) becomes their control over us, and we allow it because we ourselves have no identity without the cross we bear. If we also have an attachment to the soldier, we will not only carry the cross of our lives but also learn to love the whip in their hand. We see what they consider the necessary destination as our ultimate goal, that in somehow pleasing them by the sweat and blood of our brow we will find pleasure ourselves.

In this the soldier can be those we “love” or who “love” us. It can be mentors, husbands, wives, teachers, parents, siblings, or even just a best friend. The whip can be sexual in nature, or the return of love, or the idea that “forever” is more solidified. It can also be just a positive reaction, an feigned acceptance (acceptance can never be earned, it is always there). Perhaps in this metaphor we can see the relativity of this analogy in our own lives. If we can see it, we can become aware of it, and in the awareness such unhealthy darkness cannot survive.

There are times when our actions while carrying the cross cause other to suffer in our midst. Our own “Simons” bear the weight of our cross for us and in this suffer along with us. Some are pressed into service, like the guy at the bar we beat up for no real good reason, or the family we gave the finger to when the cut us off in traffic. Others volunteer (although some not knowingly) when they enter into a relationship with us. Regardless of the reason for their “assistance”, they are scarred nonetheless, hampered in the shared splinters and binding bruises. It seems as if their joining in our suffering only “wets the wood”, makes our cross all the heavier for their effort. We not only have to deal with the original carpenter of the cross, but now we have to deal with the guilt of putting them through pain on our behalf.

In this action and reaction, it seems perfectly acceptable for anger to be the method of reaction and guilt the continuance of the anger. In our Simons seeking change in us, they may use a variety of means to see this happen. We owe them somehow, or at the very least we find them seeking freedom from the memory. They, in turn, create their own little cross out of the splinters we leave them from ours. What seems worst, as we relinquish the control the cross has over us, it seems as if they cannot, they need to hold onto that cross as if it is the only thing between them and certain death. They become more than just our helpers, our partners, but now they become the soldiers destined to see us to THEIR destination.

I liken this event to getting water from a stone. You turn the spigot, nothing comes out, and you curse the stone. You do this for weeks and curse the stone each day for its failure. Suddenly, just as you seek to be finished with the stone, it produces a torrent. Do you still curse it? Or do you appreciate that it finally is doing as you need it to do. Sure, it took its time, but is it where you want it to be or are you where it WAS? Perhaps your lips are still cracked from thirst, but you seek to curse the stone for being a STONE…a strange occurrence at best. You seek to tie your condition to it, rather than understanding that things were as they were intended to be.

Perhaps we should just learn to love the stone for being a stone and a well for being a well. Accept them, and should the stone provide water for you love it just the same. It would seem that in keeping anger towards it for what it did yesterday, we seek to hold on to the attachment we created in our anger towards it. We create a cross that we simply do not wish to relinquish, and in that creation a bit of insanity uniquely ours. We become insane, a slave to pain and ego that will only seek to repeat itself over and over again!

At the end, perhaps we just need to love. We need to love those we are in love with today. We need to see them as they are, not as we would like them to be or how the WERE. We need to open our hearts and arms not to our vision of perfection we expect the other to be, but in an unselfish love that seeks to accept, not to pass judgments. Can we forgive? Can we live for today in a way that makes yesterday a forgotten moment and tomorrow unexpected? The answers to those questions will not just seek to create peace in our own lives, but growth to loving relationships that never fail.

Still, if we seek to “choose” we have failed in our quest already. Don’t choose, just BE. Don’t think, just BE. Don’t talk, just DO. And best of all, don’t question, just LOVE. These all happen simultaneously in acceptance and Being, and they are without effort or “work”. Be still, and these will happen. Learn to find the silence that allows the noise to be. Happiness abounds from this point forward.

Time To Say Goodbye My Friend

It’s time to say goodbye my friend,
For time has said goodbye to you,
As it will to each of us one day.

It’s time to say goodbye my friend,
Allow one last embrace before we part,
Such sadness knows no delay.

You shall now return to the Sea,
Please take a piece of me,
It’s time to say goodbye my friend.

It’s time to say goodbye my friend,
I wish I told you more before you left,
If I would have only known.

It’s time to say goodbye my friend,
I wish I held you more before you left,
I feel so alone.

Someday I shall follow you,
We’ll be together again in time,
But for now, well for now,
It’s just time
To say
Goodbye…
My friend.

But a Teaspoon of the Sea

To be something – an expression of self,
That does not define the self,
But expresses the self as it is as that moment,
Is the purpose of life eternal.

Such a need is found in this Being,
A desire to express the love of this moment,
As a service to others as a service to self,
A need to be the change I wish to see.

Allow me to be such a vessel,
Calmly living this moment as it seeks to be lived,
Devoting all of self to it,
Understanding its Divine intention.

Allow me to seek the beauty in this moment,
and not to seek the charity of the next,
Find in me the eternity of Now,
In the outstretched hand that accepts its fate.

Allow me to seek such a place,
Where I am nothing more than what “I am”.
I am but a teaspoon of the sea,
And to that sea I shall return.

Allow me a voice in such throes of inspiration,
To not think but live in the moment,
Find in me such freedom in cause,
That carries this tune in a such blind ecstasy.

If I but live in this moment,
I have lived nonetheless,
I have lived an eternal lifetime forever found,
In those things that don’t exist at all.

For I am but a Teaspoon of the Sea,
And in this spoon I am myself,
A separate spoon are we all?
The Sea is but the place we return when the spoon is no more.

Speechless

Such words from your speechless mouth do form,
Enough light to keep this planet warm,
In meaning found from thoughts not taken,
Is to find a sleeping soul awakened.

I can feel your tears shed in the night,
and can feel your breath come day light,
To lay awake it only seems,
I must stay asleep to dream such dreams.

You whisper softly – no words at all,
In slumber’s midst I hear your call,
The song of spirit from whence it came,
Are speechless songs not at all the same.

Remember all of time my friend,
Shall never hear this the music end,
And in time shall see such spirit free,
When I find the better, speechless me.

My Friend, My Gift

To see such beauty as you my friend,
Is to open a heart full of light to the world,
And to have such memories as I have in you,
Is to hold in delight what words cannot say.
To be in such a way my friend,
Is to know the meaning of good fortune,
As to have called you “my friend” at all,
Is to know the goodness of what life can offer.

I have but been lucky to hold you close,
Both in my heart and in my arms,
To comfort you in all discomfort,
To share in your unbridled joy.
To see you in such a pure light as to see nothing else.
In this there was no chore or labor at all,
It simply was and is nothing short of wondrous,
A miracle of memory I shall not easily surrender.

To see you now my friend,
After the years have passed and our youth has set us free,
I take joy in knowing you, and in seeing who you are.
I am left in sorrow for not being there all these years,
To comfort you in your discomfort,
And to share in your unbridled joy.
For to see you as I see you now is to have a cherished gift,
One I shall cherish for all the days of my life.

My Cross to Bear

Such lovely willow blossom bare,
To thee my sweet the essence there,
Such nectar true to me decide
Whether stuck in truth or truth denied.

Fondled free to a withered home,
Absent in my Judgment’s tome,
In longing’s grasp so tried and true,
I am longing to be tried by you.

To be the cause of endless pain,
Is to find a means to be insane,
To defeat in me such ego’s charms
I consciously outstretch my arms.

Effortless to spike me there,
We all have such a cross to bear,
To fall not once, not twice but three,
Is to find such strength to carry me.

I shall always wear this suffered ring,
And bear the scar of suffering,
In time the Crown has seemed to fade,
The mark of ego thus betrayed.

So I stretch my arms to take the wood,
I’d take the nails if I only could,
To deny this place and deny me there,
Is to deny I have this cross to bear.

If You Could Read My Mind Love

>I know this song bores you stiff, but I can’t find a better way of saying how I feel, except that I am not the one who can’t get the feeling back. Just please suffer and listen to it for me.

If you could read my mind love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old time movie
‘Bout a ghost from a wishin’ well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
You know that ghost is me
And I will never be set free
As long as I’m a ghost that you can’t see
If I could read your mind love
What a tale your thoughts could tell
Just like a paperback novel
The kind that drugstores sell
When you reach the part where the heartaches come
The hero would be me
But heroes often fail
And you won’t read that book again
Because the ending’s just too hard to take

I’d walk away like a movie star
Who gets burned in a three way script
Enter number two
A movie queen to play the scene
Of bringing all the good things out in me
But for now love, let’s be real
* I never thought I could ACT this way *
And I’ve got to say that I just don’t get it
I don’t know where we went wrong
But the feelin’s gone
And I just can’t get it back

If you could read my mind love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old time movie
‘Bout a ghost from a wishin’ well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
But stories always end
And if you read between the lines
You’ll know that I’m just tryin’ to understand
The feelin’s that you lack
I never thought I could feel this way
And I’ve got to say that I just don’t get it
I don’t know where we went wrong
But the feelin’s gone
And I just can’t get it back

Attachment to past…

This will be long, so take your Ridalin or Aderol NOW! You have had your warning!!

During a recent life challenge, I faced the rather difficult task of understanding the relationship we share with our past, and was left clearly dominated by a need to become aware of how the path behind us can influence the path ahead of us. I would like to share some of the awareness discovered.

It caused me to ask the question: “does beating oneself up over the past continue the attachment to it?”. It was a rhetorical question at first, but seemed born of the recent struggle and the awareness that was created by it. I love struggle and suffering, it truly is the best teacher.

First, let me share with you my understanding of thought. Most of us cling to thought as the mechanism by which we grow, understand, live, make decisions, and basically function. I work to take thought in a much different way (yes, even struggle to reach this destination), and use my life experiences to basically formulate an awareness of thought…and understanding of it that shapes how I approach it, use it and, ultimately, discard it.

Thought, in my understanding, is the noise of the mind. It creates a perception of reality that can enhance the ego’s control of that reality. I clouds sound decision making, it magnifies ego, it stands in the way of progress. It simply keeps us from our selves, and from fully enjoying our existence. I certainly can get more into thought and ego if asked, but I have no need to challenge conventional thought in this post, but rather offer this as a basis for explaining the difference in thought and awareness as it relates to my understanding. A mouth full to say the least, some things of spirit just are not easily described with things of form. I guess one way to simply put it is that thought is the explanation of understanding, awareness is the creation of it without thought.

So, in the process of understanding attachment to past and how it controls our present, I needed to have an awareness of the circumstance at hand. This awareness requires an honesty for which thought cannot face. It takes seeing your self in a way that egoic thought will not allow, it takes tears, it takes sweat, and ultimately it takes a devotion to spirit that eliminates the presence of ego. It takes quiet, it takes stillness, it takes the complete absence of thought.

And now the painful part, an honesty for which there is no return. Things on here may be changed to protect others, but ultimately nothing will be changed to protect me, the person or the ego. So, here goes.

I have a propensity to not only have trust issues, but to cause them. I simply make bad decisions or do things that just aren’t worthy of trust. My ego takes over, thinks, and then acts in accordance with its perception of reality. Then it changes things to make that perception fit, regardless of how honest or truthful that perception is. My self, that part of me left when ego is stripped away, suffers at the hands of this. The ego jumps for joy while the self cries bitter tears. It is the paradox of a person that is the essence of “beating oneself up”, a continual battle between that which is all about form, pleasure and materialism and the self which wants no part of it.

In short, I am a liar…in ego that is simply what I am. This difficult awareness comes at a price but is worth the investment. The only way to end an ego is to shine light on it, and awareness is that light. Ego is a darkness that cannot survive even the slightest beam of light. You just need be willing to turn the light on, which is really the most difficult part.

Once I could see that I am a liar in ego, awareness began to delve into the aspects of this darkness. Now, keep in mind that awareness is not thinking, it is the absence of thought, so one does not pass judgment on what is happening at this moment. Awareness took me back to the pain of my youth, the need to be something so different in order to find the acceptance of others. Awareness shed light on seeing just how untrustworthy my parents were, how lies got them through life. I could see my ego creating the persona that would get me through the day. I could see that need to dominate my surroundings, whether cheating on a girlfriend to break any attachment to emotion, or having sex with a random woman in order to feel accepted, or hurting someone I loved very much because I just could not trust them, the things my ego did while in control simply sickened my self.

Worst of all, there were a handful of people who I honestly loved, people who I counted as those who I would die for if able. I realized that I was completely unable to share this because of my immature attachment to ego. In fact, I turned my back on these people rather than take them in. I feared this feeling, I feared its ownership of the “me” I knew. This “way” began when I was a young child and continued up to the day my wife tearfully told me that this “way” was killing her. At that moment, she turned a light on in me, made me become painfully aware of the “me” that needed to be exposed. At that moment, my self took over for a change, and I understood that my self needed to expose these things that were not only hurting her, but others I love, and yes, even me. The conflict had turned a corner.

That’s not to say it was over, man it is far from over even though this event took place years ago. My ego continues to lash out seeking its survival. This takes me to the recent life challenge. It simply was about the past, and how it effects the present. I began questioning whether I wanted to live in the past anymore, whether I wanted to have it control my life. I began to wonder if the “me” people got to know and expect was controlling the “me” I am at this moment. It is a conflict to say the least, it is a nasty battle between now and then, self and ego, light and darkness. But it is a necessary one.

And now to the understanding I have of the initial question. Let me first say that there is no right or wrong answer because ultimately the answer will depend upon where you are at this very moment. If am two blocks behind you in the journey of life, there is simply no way I can see the beauty you see, and you simply cannot see what I am seeing at that moment. But in this understanding is the understanding of the present, this very moment, and the fact that this moment is the purpose of being.

At this moment, I release the past the best I can. I must have no attachment to it, for it is an egoic perception of reality. Perception is a tricky thing, and I often liken it to the circumstance of the moment. To someone who is full and healthy, eating a Big Mac may seem grotesque…but give that same person a circumstance of starvation and they would eat that Big Mac off the dirty sidewalk. It’s the moment that is purpose, it is the moment that matters, and it is the moment for which we need to exist.

With this understanding, I become aware of reactions (ego) that are based on the past. They are harmful even if they appear to be good. In this moment there is no past, there is no need to relive it, there is no need to demand its attention or even offer it attention. The past ruins the present by its very existence, and the only way to firmly be in this moment is to relinquish the hold the past has on it.

No, there are no exceptions. And no, this is not to say that lessons learned in the past are not to be used this moment. They just must not own the moment. As a child learns that fire is painful, we now later due to this past experience not to stick our hand in the fire, but we do not use this painful experience to not enjoy a fire’s warmth. Yes, there is a difference, and it is up to you and where you are at this moment to figure out where that difference is.

I heard a story once that pretty much sums it up. If you have abused a dog as a puppy, and see it 10 years later it may bite you, but it certainly hasn’t thought about it for each of those 10 years. And it probably won’t think about it again once you leave the room to get your stitches. The dog has learned from the past, but it certainly does not live in it or for it. And I believe the dog will not be beating itself up for biting the abuser after the event is over.

We must learn from the dog…that this moment is not about the last one, it is about this one. It is the only one we are guaranteed, it is eternity. Enjoy it, allow it to be, and simply embrace all that it offers. Love those you love, open up, and just be. Such freedom is beautiful, and the stillness is deafening. No, it’s not easy, but if you love it is a must.

Peace

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