No Final Goal

Between the misty morning and the bleeding of twilight
As your shadow moves along then fades into the night
You’re sorting out the differences amongst what’s wrong and right
Deciding when it’s best to run or when to stand and fight

The water that you try to cross it is not deep but fast
Sometimes it will cleanse your heart and sometimes it will blast
To carry you away downstream and wash away the mask
Revealing more than can be found within your looking glass

The things that you say and do and the steps you take
To build yourself a better life, this person you create
Just finding one more mold to cast for each one that you break
Building one more image there just for the buildings sake

It only just occurred to me that these things we believe
Are really no more valid than those things we try to leave
Behind us when we look back and call ourselves naive
To carry on with this new self that we somehow conceived

So when you tilt your eyes aloft and look into the sky
Or when you look across the bed into your lover’s eyes
What is it that you fear in life? What do you most despise?
Can you let the curtain fall revealing your disguise?

The telling of this storybook, how do you see it end?
The character you choose to play, the story that you’ve penned
Letting some things drop away, with others that you spend
Who is it you leave behind and who will you befriend?

Ascension of the heart into that calming state of bliss
With all the fear that you now hold how can you hope for this?
Your wanderings they take you far but you cannot dismiss
The longing for a hearth and home within you still persists

There is no greater tragedy, or so I’ve heard it told
With all our blind eyes searching for that so called pot of gold
While we ignore the scenery as our lives do unfold
The regret that we have when we see there is no final goal

Within My Life

I have this ache behind my eyes
Being fed by all the raindrops
Falling from the steely sky
To roll gently off of the rooftops
In a nonchalant parade
A liquid serenade
Of ever changing rhythms
Within the song that’s my life

There is a shadow on the wall
Being cast by something kinder
An etherial ghostly scrawl
And a constant reminder
A painting without a frame
A cause without a blame
Slowly moving across the wall
Within the room that’s my life

There is a light that’s shining in
Reflecting off the floor boards
Touching warmly on my skin
Then climbs away to move towards
The darkened corners where
The heart lies in despair
To lift all of the shadows cast
Within the cracks of my life

Politics

I used to think that my involvement in the political process to be important. I no longer feel this way. I don’t care what the Republicans, Democrats, Green Party, Libertarians, or Independents do. Really, I don’t care. I understand that the policies that they create (or don’t create) impact our lives and that that impact can be either destructive or beneficial. However, I have come to the conclusion that I am not, no matter how much I think I should be, a political creature. It is not my path.

The individuals within the American political machine seem to believe that the health and the happiness of the nation begins at the macro level and filters down to individuals. That if the institutions are healthy, individuals within it will be healthy. I believe this to be completely upside-down thinking. In an ecosystem if the lowest trophic level is unhealthy it will corrupt everything above it. If the vast American working-class is suffering then the institutions dependent upon it will falter and crumble. Due to the influence of the power structure now in place, American culture is at this time overwhelmingly contrary to this vision of a healthy nation. And I do not see a change to the present paradigm within my lifetime. Therefore I am opting out of this inane power struggle and will focus myself attention elsewhere.

This is not to say I do not care about the lives of others. Quite the contrary. My discomfort at the image, thought, and realization of the suffering of others transcends mental anguish and, at times, manifests itself physically. This may seem like an over-exaggeration to some but at times when I encounter the suffering of others, I feel pain; pain in my extremities, pain in my chest and breath, as well as mental discomfort and panic. And in the face of an attack of this type of empathy, impotent political activism becomes a uselessly shallow pursuit.

I cannot heal the ills of world. No matter how hard I try. My efforts on a macro scale are ineffectual and so I become overwhelmingly frustrated and so shut down completely. Which has absolutely no positive effect. I feel that it is essential to focus on my small corner of the world. Beginning first with myself. This may seem selfish, but it is an undeniable fact that all phenomenon in the universe, physical and mental, are interconnected. Therefore, making positive changes in myself changes the universe in a positive manner. These changes are most profound within myself and in the lives that are directly connected to mine but do reverberate endlessly. Like a stone thrown into the water, creating ripples that echo across the surface; so do my actions affect a change in the world. Even when the body of water is an ocean, deep and turbulent, the thrown stone still has its effect. It is less noticeable but it is there nevertheless.

I also believe it is the height of arrogance to assert that I can be the cause for the happiness of others. While it is true that I may help to create a condition or facilitate the improvement of another person’s life, it is the burden of each individual to create the cause for his or her own happiness. I do not mean to minimize the importance of creating a condition in which the cause of an individual’s happiness can bloom, but I cannot take responsibility for its fruition. As a teacher, I cannot take responsibility for what my students learn. I can only facilitate the process to the best of my ability; in other-words I foster the condition in which they can learn but I am not the cause. They hold the cause, whatever it may be, within themselves.

So as I have said, I am opting out. If I am asked who I am voting for, I will say that I am not voting. I will not be labeled as a supporter of any of the present political campaigns. Until a political movement arises that has as its foundation compassion, I am not interested. And as I have said, I do not see it happening within my lifetime.