this weird world of stories

some things just stubbornly insist on happening, mo matter how many
corrective measures we take in full sincerity of purpose to change
the outcome. we do all that we know how to amend it, without result.

we term it destiny, fate, karma, yet still we determinedly work to
change it to a desired agreeable outcome. we are called proactive,
take-charge, fired-up, & are encouraged in our actions by the opinions
of others near us & by all we have ever learned in society.

repeatedly we throw ourselves into doing what it seems to take to
obtain our chosen outcome, yet somehow again, so strangely, still nothing
changes in a fundamental way. words are said, promises are made, new
plans are put in place & yet, amazingly, nothing different happens.

this is the point at which we need to realize that vaster forces are
in motion & they are beyond individual efforts to change, no
matter how sincere our urges or how deserving of merit we are.

we are now in the midst of a lesson we need to learn, although we may
not be aware of it. this is the time to be the detached observer
& to stand back, unattached, as events play out, watching carefully for
our cue to act & the timing of the action. we are not in control
of events, although we can learn to adapt & flow without resistance.

we learn to be grateful that we can grow in awareness & compassion,
even here in this audience participation comedy-drama.
it's called maya lila, the laughter & play of this weird world of stories
that hint not to take it all dead seriously. a strong sense of humor
becomes an excellent survival strategy down here in the maya
of jagat, a place where we must learn to turn to the higher powers for
help. the whole universe is waiting for us to mature & take our place
as co-creators with the Holy Ones, such as Shiva, who is no doubt
cheering us on at this very pregnant moment of opportunity.

You come back for me

i go through it again: the loss, the pain, the suffering & loneliness.
again i cleave to You & give it all to You -- it's all i have to give!
there is nothing to offer but the heaviness of the occluding flesh
& the memorized stories about how it came to be the way it is.
they are worn thin at the edges, ragged & smeared with multiple corrections.
every day i throw them away again but they crawl back in the dark night.
yet fewer words are there & the manuscript is thinner now over time,
after these years of turning my back & resolutely walking away.

oh Shiva! this is a hard lesson, all this emptiness & loneliness!
it has held me down & had its ruthless way with me long enough indeed!
You help me see the old eroding patterns to leave them. You guide me home.
You come back for me relentlessly, You reach to me as i reach to You.
i walked the cold solitary halls of separation & division
& i'm headed for the door, Shiva, walking onward to full disclosure,
where we share sweet infinite kindness & love without a word or a thought,
& nothing stands in opposition or defense to the purity of love.