Friday, September 14, 2012

in the time of your life, live

 In the time of your life, live -- so that in that in that wondrous time you shall not add to the misery and sorrow of the world, but shall smile to the infinite delight and mystery of it.
--William Sharyoan
If you love something, you fight for it.
I've never fought for anything, he suddenly realized. Concurrent with that revelation, he realized he had always known that, but never realized it.
An epiphany. He just experienced an epiphany.
But Epiphanies, as a sensible person could tell you, are simply ourselves fooling ourselves into believing ourselves.

If the time comes in the time of your life to kill, kill and have no regret.
Now that just seems barbaric, he was shocked. Kill, and have no regret?

Kill those parts of ourselves that must die in order to let new life grow. Kill that which chokes us and that which stifles us. Kill what prevents our new light from shining. Kill the festering old loves twisted in on themselves. Let the new loves pierce through the writhing mass of throbbing wounded pride.


Place in matter and in flesh the least of values, for these are the things that hold death and must pass away. Discover in all things that which shines and is beyond corruption.

The music played and the young boy cried. The sky of stars was large and dark above him. Some nights, summer air has a piercing, chilly crispness to it. This was one of those nights. The music said:

You draw me gently to my knees.

"Being broken down, crumbling to your knees doesn't feel very gentle," the child protested.
"There's nothing gentle about genuflecting," responded the man of the cloth.

The smaller you are the easier it is to bow down. And the larger you are, the more it pains you to kneel. A difficult truth. The boy still didn't understand. But resistance seemed more painful than wholly surrendering. He didn't understand that as much as he felt it.

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.

"The more you try to convey reality through language, the more it becomes clear that there is a reality that language cannot express."
--Annie Baker

When you consider the breadth and depth of the human experience, it's a wonder that we can use words at all. Language is highly daunting: one word can capture in it an entire world. Language, like limits on cartesian graphs, endlessly brush against infinity. Because of the life they've lived together, the laughs they've shared, the tears they've cried, two girls can give simple words like Lucky Charms, or shaving cream a weight that no one else will know. Two lovers endow the word adventure with endless meaning; a whole romance and heartbreak captured in one word. Two parents names their child, immediately giving that one simple word all the colors that paint a life.
Words just scratch the surface of these realities. They are the fragile, thin crust that circumferences them. They break down mystery into grasp-able, understandable, speak-able pieces. Words alone can uncover the beautiful hidden reality, but they cannot even begin to describe it.

In the time of your life, live -- so that in that good time there shall be no ugliness or death for yourself or for any life your life touches.
 Seek goodness everywhere, and when it is found, bring it out of its hiding-place and let it be free and unashamed.

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