Becoming Me
by Odin Roark

Finally…

How many years,
Days,
Hours,
And minutes had it ultimately taken,
The emerging from the universal vat of herd-stew,
This controller’s recipe of inculcation
Fed from birth until…

How glorious to find one’s own skin,
Leave behind chieftains who feign leadership beneath serpentine scales,
Businessmen and women who camouflage their intent,
Professionals bent on gaining the most with the least,
And their quasi smiles most often meant
To disarm and destroy.

Such continues the servitude teachings,
Where being sucked deeper beneath
The tsunami undertow of growing up,
Means only to be spewed out atop the wave of survival,
Expecting either to ride the crest of incomparable power,
Or drown in the drift of history’s flotsam.

For most…

Choosing to “live” demands insight,
Discovering the right place,
The right time,
The right mentor, et al.
The unquantifiable principals
Often governing one’s future.

Epiphany knows well the task…

To bask in the naked sun of unencumbered light,
To openly invite the tempest of storms
To meet head on a willingness to learn
That embracing and owning mistakes,
Bodes well along wisdom’s journey.

Sadly…

This determinacy of who we really are
Requires conquering ouselves,
Conditioned as we are to accept a status quo life,
That belief positing it safer to be part of something,
Rather than risk failure at becoming unique,
Perhaps being ostracized for such a goal.

Even as automaton routines of success
Parade with zombie-lock-step,
For the fortunate few,
Breathing does become easier,
More wondrous in its simple power.

Nurturing one’s ability to peer out and above the fray,
Compassionately realizing
To not be one of them,
To avoid being cloned as the me of someone else,
Finally delivers your own me of me,
A state of mind well worth celebrating.