Dark places

Wisdom

What is it about human nature

That makes us want to know

The unknown

To discover

The undiscover

To seek

The unfound?

How do we learn

How to live?

I could spend my life

Reading all the books

In the world

Then reach the end

And realize

I had all the information about swimming

But never got in the water.

The world is filled with light

And with darkness too;

Perhaps there is a time

To shine our torches

Into the gloom

To find explanations

And connections

To learn and comprehend;

Yet

Perhaps there is also a time

To accept

That which we cannot perceive

Or explain

The corners where our torches

Do not reach;

Perhaps,

Even greater than intelligence

And knowledge

Is a sense of respect

And reverence

For its limits;

For the dark places

Where reason

Cannot penetrate.

The Misbehaving Child

The Misbehaving Child

(A metaphor for detached mindfulness)

The small girl tugs impatiently

On her nanny’s skirt.

Getting no response

She tugs again

More insistently this time.

Still nothing.

Her nanny is talking to the shopkeeper

And doesn't even look down.

This won’t do;

The child is used to getting

What she wants

When she wants it.

Pouting,

She stamps off

To the far side of the shop;

She looks back

But the nanny doesn't seem

To have noticed.

She begins to stomp her feet

BANG BANG BANG

On the hard linoleum floor

Then kicks at a shelf

THUMP!

Still,

She gets no reaction.

The child scuffs her toe

As she kicks again

And begins to wail.

She doesn’t see

The quick glance

The nanny casts her way.

Angry and frustrated now

The child screws up her face

And begins howling;

She kicks the shelf once more

Then jumps up and down on the spot

Her hands clenched into fists

Letting loose

A full blown tantrum.

She’s sure she can feel her nanny’s gaze now

But no voice tells her to stop

No arms reach out to pick her up;

AT the other side of the shop

The nanny has a peripheral awareness

Of the child

And although it’s a struggle

She stays just where she is

Continues her conversation

Not engaging

Or making a move.

 She reminds herself

There's nothing breakable on the shelf

No harm can be done;

Sooner or later

 The child will tire herself out

The tantrum will subside.

Sure enough,

Within minutes

The little girl is out of breath;

The howling dies down

And the stamping ceases

She has realized

Her nanny is not coming over

No matter how loud

She yells and screams.

Pursing her lips

She sinks down in the corner

Arms crossed

Defeated,

Her back against the wall.

The nanny lets out a silent breath

And as the tension begins to leave her body

She allows herself a half smile -

She has won another battle.

Panic Attack

Electric Fence

If I ever believed

That the mind and body

Were not interconnected

I was wrong.

I hang up the phone

It's the final straw;

As if opening my eyes

To another day

And the truth of my reality

Wasn't bad enough.

I want to be sick

My stomach

Is tied up in knots

Twisting and writhing

As if filled with

Coiled up serpents.

My head feels like a balloon

Someone has blown up so much

That any second it will explode.

My muscles so tight

That my whole body aches

Neck shoulders jaw

Back arms toes.

My spine is rigid

Poker rod straight

Fists clenched into tight balls;

My breath comes out

In short sharp little gasps

Like a goldfish.

Physically I can see

But I am blinded

I can hear

But am deaf to the sounds.

I can feel

Everything

Like I’m an electric fence

Prickling and sparking

With a high voltage

Running through my center.

I am still me,

But I'm not.

Or am I?

I don't know anymore.

But I do know

That right now

Being trapped in this body

This mind

This moment

Is terrifying.