mindingmybiz

This blog is my shared process in working towards integrating self-awareness with all other aspects of life, while on my way to becoming more authentic and whole.

Archive for the category “poetry”

19 Aug 2021

Reflections on Life, While Living…

from

Life is complex.
Life is simple.
Both are true.

Truth is simple, it’s simply what is – uncovered.
Truth is complex, it’s complexly what is – uncovered.
Both observations are true.

Certainty is my kryptonite.
My desire, attraction, and pull towards knowing and obtaining “right” thinking, “right” beliefs, or Certitude is where my servitude follows.

Certitude is my Achilles’ heel.

Wherefore Art Thou, Certitude?
You are the illusion that seduces me when I’m at my most vulnerable brink.

My logical reasoning leads me with chords of un-ease to the melody of posturing antidotes of Certitude – so alluring, so alluring.

And yet – the more I search the earth’s crevices for You,
The more abandoned I feel.
Left with unending questioning of myself and You,
I find this strange alchemy consisting of pleasure and pain.

Pursuing You, Thou Certitude is an addiction of the mind.
The payoffs are immediate and fleeting,
Though, the tolerance levels are becoming more and more demanding
Leaving me with shorter peaks of peace-of-mind, tranquility, and random moments of bliss
Just enough to keep me hooked.

The mountain tops of truth feel warmer
Until a rebuttal challenges and destabilizes the former

What am I fervently searching for? 
Security. 
Safety.
Truth.

A firm ground to lay and graze in, for me and my loved ones.
This search springs from both love and fear which simultaneously can consume me, side by side.

I contend with the push-and-pull to let you go
For fearing your absence is all I know

The notion of letting You go and accepting that

…You are an illusion
Birthed from human existence and vulnerability…
Birthed in relentless hope and resiliency…

This is not in the many books and paths I’ve poured my soul out to, in search of You.
Perhaps this is part and parcel of the human journey for this soul who sits behind this screen, as both writer and reader.

Answers and Certitude aren’t found in man-made potions or notions
Only illusions with half-truths, disguised as whole truths.

“Truths” that we devote ourselves to, and coerce others into believing, or else!
Then divide over, for your good and mine, of course.

For we do not know fully and with certainty, and yet we still search and proclaim the insane…
That only we have the full, exclusive, equally applicable truth for all; adhere…or else.

This madness, this arrogance
Isn’t easy or simple to spot or stop.
It’s all too often desperately and aggressively ridiculed, while practiced.

Well, this is an integral part of what it means to be in the human tribe.
It’s hard to make sense of.
At least for me, in this season.

And yet,
It will be well,
In this complex soul.

from
Posted in poetry, reflective poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
23 Nov 2020

The Gift of Rejection

I did it again. Practice makes progress in being, me

I felt our collective discomfort but didn’t sell out
In that trance-like, shape-shifting blurring into “not really me”, me

As usual
I wasn’t paid by your approval
I was paid however, by my own

As anticipated, failed approval-seeking came my way
I now know what I didn’t, so I don’t despair
The fear of rejection subsides
So my authentic self doesn’t need to hide

I know in the absence of your approval, is mine
But when I reject my authenticity
I taste it in my gut
I taste it in my soul
And it always leaves a hole

Damn, the anxiety I once felt when falling in that hole
It left such disparity in my soul
In that disparity I found MY soul
But it never truly left me, it was only but an illusion
The absence of your validation doesn’t cause such an ego contusion
Where once forsaken energy can flow, that which truly satisfies me whole





Posted in codependency, emotional health, personal growth, personal healing, poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
21 Nov 2020

Whose Shit Is This?

from

Is it mine?
Or is it yours?

Long entangled strings from old baggage seem to follow,
like a shadow.

The longer you’ve traveled this earth, the more you collect.
In it can be treasures or and, rotten waste.

Open up your baggage! Its damn flowing train is getting too long!
It’s now a tripping hazard for you and for me!

I wish it were as easy as the Baggage Claim at the airport. 
Travelers recognize their own or can check the name tag. 
But this baggage isn’t so easily claimed!
It’s mistakenly claimed as mine when it’s really yours!

Back and forth the disclaimed and misclaimed baggage gets passionately tossed between us. 
Like a hot potato.
Scorched are the hands who hold on too long.

Not all of this will burn.
There are unclaimed treasures inside too.
There’s been a spill from the unfinished business of your past.
It has contaminated everything.

When you indiscriminately throw away your past, it comes back.
Boomerang.
Give and it will be given back?
Karmic energy?

Reclaim the abandoned energy within and between you.
This will be a joint success, a joint failure, or a joint holding pattern; awaiting clearance.
You cannot abandon this energy force, without consequence.

The whole is more than the sum of its parts.

I repeat…

The whole is more than the sum of its parts.

So…
Whose shit is this?
It’s ours.

Your past, my past
Your beliefs, my beliefs
Your experiences, my experiences
Your pain, my pain
Your dreams, my dreams
Your grief, my grief
Your fears, my fears
Your victories, my victories
Your strengths, my strengths
Your weaknesses, my weaknesses

from

It all goes into one bag.
Like different threads, weaved into a tapestry.

Joint ownership.  Joint consequences.  Joint time limit.

One bag
One tapestry
Many threads
Our threads

We work to carry it together and move on,
Or we toss it back and forth together
And, remain firmly stuck in a holding pattern; awaiting clearance…
someday. Who knows when?

Meanwhile, time passes by.
Time – non-renewable resource.
Time.  No returns, refunds, or exchanges.

Whose shit is this?
Ours.
Whose treasure is this?
Ours.

*This is a poem about coupleshit coupleship.

from

Posted in couples, intimate relationships, personal growth, personal healing, poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
26 Mar 2020

“But, what good is that?”

from:

We’re currently in the midst of a pandemic. “Normal” isn’t happening. In times like these, I find there to be an “illumination effect” in revealing what lurks in the shadows of everyday distractions. Take away the distractions, the daily routines and “normalcy” – you’ll find things you didn’t see or feel so clearly. Or, at least it was more conveniently overlooked. It’s in this space, I wrote this poem regarding my own intimate relationship and taking its pulse, within me.

“But, what good is that?”

I want to share myself as authentically as I can, being fully who I know I am. – With him.

from

But, what good is that?

I want adventure! I want to be fully awake and alive; spiritually and emotionally, not just physically! – With him.

But, what good is that?

I want to be challenged and stretched graciously yet persistently, to reach for new heights and new depths! – With him.

But, what good is that?

I want to bust free from this goddamn smothering straight-jacket of “status quo” and “fitting in” for crumbs of superficial validation. – With him.

But, what good is that?

I want us to become who we were divinely created to be, not merely who we’ve been “tamed”, “conditioned”, or “raised” to be. – With him.

But, what good is that?

I want to be wildly free, from this cage of mediocrity. – With him.

But, what good is that?

What my heart and soul long for is closeness, beyond merely physicality. – With him.

But, what good is that?

My pursuit and fight for intimacy is a result of an ongoing experience of a partner who resists intimacy, and me resisting his resistance. This is resulting in regression and degeneration – the opposite of what my heart longs for. – With him.

from:

But, what good is that?

Why, do you keep asking me this? I’m trying to have intimacy!

But, what good is that?

The merry-go-round of resistance keeps me from what I’ve been terrified of – acceptance and the grieving through accepting what is. There is shame wrapped up in the grief. This is my inner work of healing, which I’ve been unconsciously avoiding because it’s so damn painful and uncomfortable. We are apart, together. And together, apart.

Go in peace my dear child, grieve. – With me.

Posted in poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Post Navigation