Monday, November 30, 2015


It only took thirty years or so of practice to get to this point, the place where the puzzle pieces start to fit together. You see how it all works, for a brief second or so at a time. You see that it isn't really about you after all, that it is about giving in rather than getting your way all the time. The social climbers, rising stars, golden ones won't listen to you, but that doesn't matter so much any more. You're off their radar anyway. When the conversation at the party turns to who held what office or led what committee or won which award you can finally sit back and soak in the light streaming through the window as the sun sets on another desert day. Your body still wants to tighten up, to draw the attention back to you and what you have done, but it's vestigial, a relic of some forgotten kingdom now covered in dust. You're old. Your eyes are going bad. Your brain, however, is sharp, penetrating, clear, and quick. Not that it matters to anyone else. After all, it's just the here and now that you occupy. You know that change is not only possible, it is inevitable. You ride the waves of change now. The fear of not having enough has taken a back seat to the knowledge that all is in motion, in flux, shifting -- a story under constant revision. The only guide it knows is truth, energy, and resonance. So you recede into the background, enter the river, and begin your journey to the sea. You have nothing to hang onto, nothing to lose, and the joy of it burns. The brighter it shines the more invisible you become.

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