I is Me

I is Me

I have come to realize
old adages have truth,
theorize
old fears can die,
believe
that I
have no purpose on this earth
other than to disentangle the mystery of self
and how that includes losing
old ways of framing
and painting
scenes in my head
that reflect just one perspective,
because the borders I think I see
around me
are not fixed
nor part of a reality
distinct from my own experience.

——

Making love is real,
and it involves the soul, body, heart, and mind,
and the kinds of things that exist outside
of space and time.
Heroes seem lonely
to me now.
I used to imagine myself in a cabin
in a forest,
chopping wood,
fighting demons in my head.
Such dreams perpetuate the myth
that man is burdened with something unique,
oblique,
and that to face our fears collectively is somehow weak,
and yet experience teaches me
a different kind of truth.

——

As I look out at the landscape of my heart,
I see people, animals, trees, rivers, and stones,
and the bones
of the man I used to be,
a man full of fear
who chased me
into dark corners of my mind,
and so there I hid,
slid
into a quiet madness
championed by society.
I had answers,
hard edges around my heart,
and I planned how each day would end,
not how it would start,
because I was a man whose eyes
were fixed on the horizon.

——

When my heart broke,
I awoke
from a deep slumber
to discover the man inside my head
was in fact me,
and that the chase
was not a metaphor
for what it means to be
or not to be,
but rather a manifestation
of the loneliness I felt
inside me.
I see now I created the man
and he me,
and so we
must part ways
one of these days,
and this is one of those days.

——

As I watch this man run away from me
over a bridge and into the black folds of outer space,
I hear a sound in my heart
and turn to see this man
with outstretched arms
and we embrace,
melting into the other,
as we both realize
without the need to theorize
that I is me…

Selfies

Selfies

There is something unnerving about our reliance on presenting ourselves to “the world” through the use of ‘selfies.’ It is as if our ability to capture an image of ourselves with the use of a phone’s camera indicates something about our inherent power as humans.

How many people are out there explaining to us that all we need to do is X, Y, and Z, and we will somehow achieve our dreams? Must our dreams be quantifiable to the masses? Must we curate ourselves for an audience that for the most part really does not truly care for our struggles at all, but rather the image of “perfection” we instead project?

Is anyone else exhausted from the hordes of individuals peddling their senseless ‘wares’ to the masses, as if they have the answers alone? Must we suffer through one more pointless podcast that we immediately forget when we put down our phones and return to our real lives?

Let me qualify the above statement, as not all podcasts are pointless. There are incredible podcasts out there, but there are also a plethora of podcasts that reinforce our brokenness as a society.

The term, power, does not merely connote an idea of strength; rather, it also speaks of our fragility. We are born, we grow, we live, and we die. This universe is so vast that the word itself is empty, as worlds within worlds spin inside our molecules, while something we name dark matter is thought to make up nearly one-third of the matter-energy composition of the universe.

Maybe ‘power’ can be reframed as a feeling of self. For instance, perhaps power is something we feel by ourselves in the woods on a hike at a moment in which we simply feel “okay” for a moment to be our fragile selves. Maybe power is an emotion we feel as we watch our kids grow up only to realize (later) we must let them go – literally and figuratively. Maybe power is recognizing that nothing we do matters in a universe that is so vast that it is still beginning 13.5 billion light years away. Maybe power is the recognition that everything matters.

When we stop our lives to take pictures and tell the world how strong we are at that very moment, it is a wonderful sentiment, but perhaps it is misguided. Perhaps the energy we spend investing in our idea of the world might be best spent embracing ourselves so we may literally and figuratively embrace others.

There is nothing necessarily wrong with ‘selfies’ at all. It could be viewed as an invitiation. I suppose the question here is what do we wish to project through the use of a ‘selfie?’ Are we projecting our very selves, or are we projecting a passing intepretation of what we think we might be? But for whom is this projection? Why?

Perhaps, a’selfie’ does not just refer to photography, but rather an intent to present parts of ourselves we feel comfortble sharing while omitting what we may consider ‘dark.’ What if we shared our darkness? What if we allowed others inside our brokenness?

A wise woman said to me recently that our brokenness is what makes us whole. As a man, I have always run away from my brokenness. Perhaps many of us run from it. Perhaps Smokey Robinson says it best in Tears of a Clown