Clarity

Friday night’s conversation felt like a bunch of needles in a chair. It caused major discomfort in certain places. “No. I like talking about this,” I kept stubbornly saying each time when offered to change the subject. I think questions that are easy to answer are strings of wasted words. It’s that timely uncomfortable query that can make a difference between safe inaction and daring to take a chance.

* * *

- Why do you care about people starving or getting killed thousands of miles away? What is it to you? Why don’t you just want to live your life and build your own happiness?
- Wow. Um. I don’t know. I never thought there has to be a reason. Maybe… Well… I guess… I think there are two worlds. One is carefree and comfortable, where you live for your own good. Another one involves the choice to open your eyes and see the evils of your time and find the strength within you to act upon them. And once you really see that other world and experience it at least once, there is no coming back to that comfortable yet meaningful nothingness. Because… I am not sure how else to word this. Wow, that is such a deep question. Nobody has ever asked me that.

- Have you ever taken care of anyone?
- My younger sister. My parents both worked full time so I looked after her when we were growing up. That’s about it…
- That doesn’t really count.
- I know.

- Would you be able to give something up to help someone? Would you be able to pass your own plate to someone who needs it more?
- I think so. I believe so. Not that I ever had to…

- Ok. How about this: Would you be able to stay in a place where people don’t like you? Racism exists everywhere, you know.
- I know. That’s a tough one. I guess I’d just have to work that much harder to deserve their trust and maybe get them to like me…

- You’ve never done anything like that before. How do you know that you can make it there? Why do you think that you have what it takes?
- I don’t. But I guess there’s one way to find out.

* * *

I needed this, my friend. I want to find out. I am choosing to turn the corner. Thanks, M.

Triumph of the Heart

There were swamps, slums, gottas, brunks, love songs,
Hidden pleasure, ignored passion, secret worship,
Quiet movement and undisclosed self loving,
Now I know God has brought me here for something


I take a quick glance around the arena as a grumpy bookie elbows me into decision making. The Heart is more likable, but I read weakness in its gentle gestures and innocent smiles. The Mind’s sturdy image emits confidence, and although its gloomy dark robe gives me goose-flesh, there’s no time for a second thought. I make a safe bet. What a chicken, I tell myself.

My head says I lost my way
But my heart knows that my life is destined in anyway
A long road running towards stops where I pay
Pay, pay for what I have taken and is got what I deserving

A few lonely drops run down my spine when I hear the crowd cheering. I wake up from this self-imposed hypnosis to see the Heart on the floor, motionless. Gaudy colors blend with piercing whistles as I escape for the door, ready for all of it to fade away, stay behind, dissolve in the night breeze, disappear and be forgotten.

Needed to search myself to go back
Had no signs of hope before lost in the darkness
Not knowing what my fate makes of me
And oh ignoring the fellowship accompanying me

The clingy hand grabs my sleeve and pulls me back into the noise. It’s not over, the bookie grins. There’s another dose of beating up, slipping down and bleeding away. The winner takes on the Pride. I silently examine the Mind leaping in the corner, dark hood sliding down unnoticed, revealing the confused gaze and moisture on the weary forehead. I am not a big fan of the Pride. Struggling to silent my instincts this time, I bet on the one I believe in, not the one I think looks more promising. I know this attempt to do the right thing comes too late in the game, but I can only make so many mistakes before they start contaminating my soul.

What is the mind without the heart
What am I without my shadow
What is life without knowing that death comes
What is a song without a melody

I feel every drop of blood touch the floor. They burn tiny holes in my head, devouring my thoughts and turning them into blankness. I feel no strength. She can’t afford to lose this one, I hear the coach yell as he throws in the towel. I feel relieved enough to get up and run. Across the isle, up the stairs, onto the ring floor, out of breath and lost for words, I stop and look down, puzzled. I feel nothing. My silence offers little compassion to the Mind. Sorry, I whisper before dashing back through the crowd, past panicky stares and out of their range.

Tell me, won’t you tell me, what your mind is without your heart
Tell me, do you feel, do you feel happiness
When you don’t feel pain
Your heart, your heart, your heart…
Your soul, your soul, your soul…
Say we must destroy in order to rebuild,
In order to rebuild, don’t you know, don’t you know
Your heart, polarity must be for you and me, for you and me...

Somewhere in the back room, I drop to my knees in front of a lonely figure, shattered in its quiet calamity. I give tribute to it and a promise to keep my freedom out of fear’s reach. From this battle on, I choose to tend to the Heart.

Lyrics in this post: Mind vs. Heart by Nneka
Currently listening: Mind vs. Heart by Nneka
Image credit: speak2josie

Second chances?

She wants to be like
the water...

I can’t speak. I close my eyes and I glide on a smooth surface. Downstream. I can’t think. I am just lying there, letting the current pull me wherever it chooses. I can’t write. My words are sinking. I can’t fight. It’s as if my hands and my feet are tied with some invisible water bonds, which I can’t resist. I have no will to swim against the tide. I watch the waters get faster, angrier. I watch small rocks lurk out. I am still on the safe side, I can still turn around and swim back, knowing the danger is ahead, knowing I should not let myself rush through these rapids again, knowing there will be pain of falling. Please don’t pull me toward you now that I am almost cured of this pain.

...wish it were simple
But we give up easily

I think I reached a shore at some point, back then, after fighting so hard with the cold of the river. I think I actually sat there for a moment and let the water dry off my face. I heard the quiet music in my head and I sang to it... and danced, and watched the clouds gallop by, and smiled at them... I smiled! But then I saw you swim by and I plunged in again. Am I really going to let go so easily of all that I fought for? I don’t want to feel comforted by your presence. I want to be able to make it on my own. Was this new strength I thought I gained just an illusion? Here I am, not swimming forward, not swimming back. Floating.

You're close enough to see that
You're the other side of the world
to me...

Why is it so hard to just close my eyes and pretend you are not here? Why is it so hard to listen to reason and decide what’s right to feel? To feel what’s right... What’s right? The thing is, in my mind, I don’t want you back. I just have to negotiate it with my heart somehow. It is tricky, because heart wants reward here and now, it wants redemption for its suffering, it wants a blanket tucked around it, it wants to go to bed cozy. It’s like a child, demanding attention, thinking of itself as the center of the world, not knowing it can’t really see further than today, further than the chest it’s in.

Can you help me?
Can you let me go?
And can you still love me
When you can't see me anymore...

People who saw us last night might have thought we are a happy couple. But that's what they thought back then too, while we were sticking knives into each other’s hearts. Back again? And you really think you can build something steady on a pile of ruins?

I subside to the sound of your voice. My strength withers and I forgive easily. I know what’s right for me, but I don’t seem to be strong enough to act upon it. Maybe not quite yet. I am afraid of the mistakes I am about to make.


Lyrics from Other Side of the World by KT Tunstall

Dreaming with a broken heart

When you're dreaming with a broken heart,
The waking up is the hardest part,
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for the moment you can hardly breathe...

- John Mayer

I roll out and I wonder... were you really here?

You were, just the night before, and after two long weeks of excruciating pain that burned my body and engulfed my thoughts every minute of every day, for a moment there I believed we could actually be happy together. Were you really here, holding my hand, or was it just a sweet dream, a short flashback in my crazy imagination... You came back into my life, but how could I be so wrong as to think that you came to stay? We walked on the grass barefoot. You told me about my nose in your paintings. You reminded me once again how you can touch my heart with the simplest things that you say. As I drove to work, the morning sky reminded me of your palette and I wished I could blend in with it, becoming the perfect tone of your skin, the shape of your cheeks when you give me that kind smile of yours or at least a note in one of your favorite melodies, so you could hum me every now and then.

You gave me hope but you wouldn’t let me anywhere near your heart. I felt slowly falling — the wind rushing though my body like the tiny pieces of broken glass — all the way down, to the very bottom of my pain.

Have I pushed you away that far? I wish you knew all the way that I loved you no matter what I did or said. I wish I didn’t do or say the things that made you run away. I’ll go hide my tears behind the rain, wondering how many more nights I will have to die before I can let you go.

Step ahead

I made a step. And another one. The path started clearing up and looking far less scary than it first did. I had to get absolutely lost in order to understand that I was not going anywhere any time soon. I was making circles in the darkness. I was not willing to change the pattern. I was afraid of myself, afraid of what might happen next.

I made a step, I stumbled, and I hit the ground. But to my surprise, the soil turned out soft. I felt the silky fall leaves around me and I could now see their patterns of green, yellow and red. They were the new patterns of my life and I liked them. I rushed ahead in a chosen direction and I knew that not so far ahead, in the clearing, there is a place where I can be happy again.

Sunday was wonderful. You made me feel special in every possible way. I hated Monday for showing up so soon. Will I see you Monday evening? Will you help me as I am getting out of this trap? I feel like cooking for you. You’d better see me Monday evening.