Ponder
Awakening in the afternoon, I ask myself, has this crooked path I’ve ventured been intentional or by accident?
Has this quantum shift in values and awareness been to enlighten or to punish?
If the “intelligent design” had it in its purpose to bring me right to this spot all along, can I challenge the word “intelligent” by asking, would it have been more feasible to just arrive here sooner and without detour?
If the intelligence behind this journey I surrender to is indeed in control, why not better spend the time traveled passed in rehearsal of the path I now navigate?
I find in the heartbeat shaped avenue I now travel, I spend as much examining the summit from the base as much as the base from the summit, and it’s okay…
Surrender -- the ultimate challenger to my impatience is an equally matched opponent.
Is it wrong to desire to slow down and let ego – once left behind -- to catch back up to the shuttle and once again hop on board to possibly commandeer the journey? The drama of conflict is missing -- spicing the bland existence of serenity. Does loud color belong or the purity of whiteness?
Missing now the lure of forbidden actions -- fulfillment found in the past by the toxic pleasures that cripple the soul. Is it wrong to long, to relapse into a desire for the “me” that was? Self will is the drug, blind to its’ own ingestion.
The thoughts wrestle among themselves – good versus evil, yet either is neither unless the intention makes it so. What are these haunting thoughts? I question their origin.
Looking at this through the distorting pane of the fishbowl’s glass -- of a past life now gone, solace it finds me. Strength is found in faith.
The infestation of the impure thought withers as it struggles to breathe in air that is not allowed to it. The air of doubt I will no longer allow.
The armor is the awareness that stays the onslaught, the conflict cleansing, releasing the dam of pent up anger, fear, and connection to yesterdays; the release energizing -- allowing for space.
My peace found in the spiritual, the connection to the familiar -- now found anew.
I reach to touch it again, but for the first time; my new old friend.
I share now this vision with others -- I listen to life’s song.
My only question is, “Who may be there to tell me, if all this has been wrong?”
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