poetry. thoughts and more than make-believe.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Born to be human

This is one of those days that I wish I knew the answer to my lifes mystery.
I'm a believer that we've been born with a purpose.
Maybe that's to be the most excellent dishwasher in history or maybe it's to be a rock star...but we've got the answers we carry the questions to inside.
And inside, everyday, those questions pop up.  Often time it's the running script we listen to when our senses aren't being bombarded with media, family or co-workers...it's our samskara's --our listening grooves on the worst teenage mixed-tape-- playing over and over again.  Making us think too much.  Making us cry.  Recreating mini-wars to our own drama.
Of course they're are actions to help counteract this cyclic behavior: meditation and mantra are the first two that pop into my mind.  That's why my teenage mixed tape has become a lovely mix of elevator music and singing Kumbaya

Other times our questions or my questions in particular seem to verbally shout to me:
PAY ATTENTION DREAMY-GIRL! by bringing forth a lying co-worker or explosive argument with loved ones, leading me to wonder : why?

Why when you can do right action, right words, right thoughts, that still there can be
conflict in the midst of peace?  Being almost 40, I humbly accept this is a fact of life if you are not living on an ashram or seclusion from the world...but I do wonder at what point do you drop the conflict of others?  I think there's a balance of dropping the most conflicted friends with less conflicted friends, but when you live with family and friends--there's bound to be sketchy emotions.  I suppose it's humanity.  

Maybe that's my answer: I was born to be human.
At least today.

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