A thorn to remove a thorn...

A thorn

To remove a thorn..

A thorn seems to arrive cutting

The deadwood and underbrush

And complexity

And settles comfortably

Into the spaciousness of

A new clarity..

Always seeming to overlook

The winking separation

At the root of things...

In the beginning..

 

In a story

Of the beginning

A word exploded

Into unending

Stories..

Stories of separation

Of suffering

And of beauty...

Explosions..!!

 

One word

May explode

Into a million

Stories..

A caution for

No one...

The most powerful drug..

 

Words

A powerful drug with

A separation ingredient.. 

Brands are many 

With words of self-help

And a promise

Of healing with attention

To the directions for use..

A higher dose for some

May be prescribed by one's

Primary word provider..

Powerful stuff...😄💥

As I Was Saying ...

by Susan Conde

 I have loved words since I was in grade school and won our vocabulary contests. It was sort of like a spelling bee but with definitions rather than spelling.  I would have not done well in spelling. Some things do not change. Then in 7th or 8th grade we had a wonderful English teacher who gave us lists of vocabulary to memorize and to then be tested on. I always got that coveted 100%. Even now I remember one of the words. It was “hackneyed”. A synonym she gave was “trite”. Recently I came across the word “sparple”. It means to deflect attention from one thing by exaggerating something else entirely. We see that activity quite often it seems. 

     The thing about words over which I despair is that they can be and, often are, weaponized. That saying “sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me” is entirely untrue. I know this  as many years ago I had a husband who could use words like a scalpel or a cudgel depending. It is incumbent on all of us  to pay attention to what we are saying to one another or writing in texts or emails. It seems people say the worst things in a “comments” section on social media posts. It’s SO easy to be cruel and disparaging when you are acting anonymously. 

     Here is a quote that to me sums up what I am trying to  say about the dual nature of words.

 “ I am by nature a dealer in words and words are the most powerful drug known to humanity.”  Rudyard Kipling.

He says it so simply and illustrates the concept so beautifully. Drugs can be harmful or drugs can be helpful. Words have the same power. We must choose wisely.

A hard pill to swallow..

 

We are alone..

A hard pill to swallow

Perhaps..yet

Alone..ends the lonesome

Separation which will not

Heal without that pill...

Solid nothingness..

 

Solid nothingness..

Is the paradox

Which may unfold

In a story telling of

The solidity all seem

To see 

And most believe...

A certain darkness..

 

A certain darkness..

Rather circular and small

Unexpected but definite

Perhaps a black hole

Absorbing all experiences

Into solid nothingness...

(A personal note..)

In the beginning..

 

In the beginning

Was the word..

The word already Was

As Was the beginning

Was is already This...

Unmentionable Peace...

 

Simplicity

Is

Life and death

Are not 2 (nor 1)

As are not

White and black..

Never to be understood

Unmentionable peace..

Words as drugs..

 

Words as drugs..

 “ I am by nature a dealer in words and words are the most powerful drug known to humanity.”  Rudyard Kipling.

Immediacy..

 

Immediacy 

Has the hint of time..

As do all words which

Are stories in themselves..

Persistently

Time appears dancing

With each word spoken...

Doership..

 

Doership

Seems the mainstay

Of civilization..

The heroes of history

And of fiction..

A solid word

For the performers

With names featured 

In breaking news..

The persistence of

The breakage of

Doership...

I am..is an appearance..

 

I am

Is an appearance

Empty and full..

Perhaps bringing a

Sense of freedom..and

Interrupting the story

Of the solid 

And the fearful..

Appearances of the past..

There are only

Appearances of what

Seems as past..

That which is

Already..

This is that...

Appearances of

The future are

Already past...

Light and darkness..

 

Light and darkness

Aren't 2..yet

Stories are spun

With these 2

Which is the

Ordinary magic

Of story appearing

As 2...

Inner outer..

 

Inner as outer

Outer as inner..

Stories of

Paradoxical places..

Perhaps a loosing of 

A splitting headache...

Place of Paradox..

 

Place of Paradox

Is not a place

Is not a paradox

But a story which

Has a scratchy feel

Of immediate

Peace...

Clarity..

Clarity

Seems to arise

From a background

Of  chaos.. 

Suddenly it is clear

For the searcher

Grasping for the 

Newfound clarity..

Yet..the whisper:

Clarity and chaos

Are not-2...

Not-knowing and Stories are Not 2.

 

Not-knowing

And stories are

Not 2..

Unexplainable

Liberation...

A shining story..

 

A focus of attention

Focusing on what is

Happening..

As a story

This collection of words

Shines as  Everything...

The spiritual habitat..

 

Outer and Inner

The spiritual habitat

Inner is preferred

Outer holds shadows..

Seemingly

The chooser is you or me

And practice is the

Chore..to exalt the

Inner...

The entry password..

 

A creator

Automatically 

Suggests a creation..

Which places this story

In the storybook

Where separation is

The entry password..

But apparently 

The password is

Already leaked and

Never not in use...

Nothing to find..

 

Nothing to find

Looking seems ceaseless

For the seeker

Not satisfied with nothing..

Then there is that story

At the bus stop..suddenly

Nothing appears ceaselessly...

Word elimination...

 

Words

Apparently

Relate to

No-separation..but

Words imply opposition

Subject and object

Persistent separation..

Yet words may plant

Seeds for their own

Elimination..and

Unexplainable peace...

Horizons..the fruits of Not-knowing...

 

Thought  

Suggests horizons

Infinitely repeating..

This is the dream of

Separation not ending

Of frontiers yet to be

Conquered..it is the

Stuff of heroics

Of myths and fiction

And history..

The fruits of 

Not-knowing..

Delicious...

The illusion is an illusion...

 

Burning

Destruction

An accidental clarity..

These are stories of 

Ending illusory

Separation..

These stories

(Which can be 

Told only with brush

Strokes of Separation..)

Never happened..yet

Some might be told with

Separation appearing

Beautifully...

(An accidental clarity..Alice Munro, "Differences.")

The polarity tree..

 

The polarity tree..

Another label and story

But what is there without 

Labels and stories..

It is a pine tree with

Nothing atop and a

Wide flaring skirt below..

Nothing and everything..

Sameness up and down:

Nothing appears as

The branches and needles..

Enter the characters the

Individual needles

Multiplicities increasing

As Nothing seems to recede..

Yet Nothing does not recede

Only the needles seem to move

And live and die.. 

Sparseness and denseness

Higher and lower

That's a continuing story...