The Tao of Pain

Chronic pain is the Tao, the Way,

like Fibro or Arthritis.

We live to love for one more day,

with frailties that unite us.

Life is a beautiful mess -- and we're all in it together.

TRUST -- the saddest poem I've ever written

I remember the first time, twelve years ago,
   when a spring-loaded kitten
      jumped down from my desk and sat on my lap.
His name was Shamus,
   but we sometimes called him "Wild Thing",
      so I was delighted to have earned a little trust.

Today, "Wild Thing" was sitting on my lap for the very last time,
    as we waited for the vet to open that dreaded door.
He was serene -- I was sad,
   but also delighted that he put all his trust in me.
I remember thinking how his life is truly in my hands,
     and how it troubles me to have already made a decision
         that he doesn't know about ...
 or does he?

Consciousness, Creation, Buddhism and the Bible in 60 seconds

What's the Fuss?

The world is in turmoil. 
So it seems.  On a global scale, nations are dealing with terrorism, disease, genocide, natural disasters and poverty.  On an individual level, it's the same -- people are struggling with their personal fears, health, mortality, physical security and finances.

How do I know this? 
My perception of everything that's happening in the world depends upon how I process electrical impulses in my brain.  Everything that I perceive, everything I've seen, heard or read about, plus everything that I conceive and that I believe, is electrical impulses in my brain.  All Creation ... the Present, Past and Future of the Universe and all that dwell within and beyond it, are merely electrical impulses in my brain.

Does it matter whether there is more to Reality than that? 
For practical purposes, everything has been reduced.  These electrical impulses are mine to do with as I please.  So, just for fun, I'll take my view of the world and stir in some fantasies and some memories. My vision of the future is imaginary, of course.  Memories are my perception of things that happened in the past, minus the details that I've forgotten, plus whatever I now imagine to have perceived at the time. Let's be honest, memories are (to some degree) imaginary.  The Truth is not naked.

So, it's all the same, huh?
When I recall the past or envision the future, it's all just electrical impulses ... like my perception of the present world in turmoil.  Everything is just electrical impulses in my brain.  
But wait! 
 Surely, my brain is not the true center of the Universe. I'm just a lowly pilgrim.  
So why, I humbly ask, is everybody making such a big fuss about my electrical impulses?

If you have an answer to this rhetorical question, I'd like to hear it. It will become another electrical impulse to be processed, then stored or forgotten, like the rest. Ho, Hum!  Of course, that's no excuse for you to be apathetic. I have mine. Go get your own.
   
FINI

One More Night

When my ashes are entombed,
my soul will go into the Gloom
to feel the Burn
                    or see the Light.     

I asked the Keeper of the Gate,
"Do I really have to wait?"
 I want to learn.
                    She said, "Alright."

If you perceive a fuzzy glow,
then you will know that I went Home
but have returned
                    for one more night,
                    for one more night.
                    

Port-of-Call

At birth,
      we disembarked to a port-of-call
             full of joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure.
We may view it as a furlough,
       as a life sentence of imprisonment in a body,
             or as an all-day pass at an amusement park.
When the Captain blows the whistle,
        we stop what we're doing, return to the ship
                     and sail on.