Thoughts, poems, nuanced inclinations
dipped in lyrical solution drip through my mind.
I can feel the liquid, flowing in the blue rivers beneath my
skin. This blue
is the same as that in the sky, as my
grandfather and brothers’ cerulean eyes,
as the slate blue or sea green in the
roaring fork and Pacific Northwest,
as the blue that reflects in the boughs
of snow laden trees across vast meadows,
in between sky reflecting snow and snow
reflecting sky. This blue
in my veins is that of my ancestors, it
is that of God.
In these blue rivers, tightly coiled
catacombs of my history
and of potential future sin
deoxygenated donut galaxies. Each nucleic acid
has a story to tell. They whisper them
to me as they flow
through my body, nourish my organs,
make this fleshy form tick and wave
through the motions. Their energy, the
energy of thousands and thousands
of years of enlightenment passed down,
vein from vein, capillary to capillary
in trees of life safe guarded in belly
homes of brave women. This energy
tingles within me and outside me. It is
the energy that does not let me sleep,
and if not acknowledged, it squirms and
stretches through each extremity,
anxious raucous demanding expression,
like Freud’s ID,
whose energy can never be destroyed merely
transferred or suppressed.
Transfered with draught or haze, a
fallacious exchange.
To transfer with writing and poetry and
baths and long walks,
make equilibrium this energy with
nature.
For the same riveting, rioting,
expanding, surmounting, boundless energy claims nascence
from the same soil your ancestors
crawled out of, with pseudopodia.
The energy within you is that of the
sun, that of the wind, that of fossil fuels, of hurricanes and earthquakes, of
volcanoes if ignored.
We are not so different from the mother
who created us,
with layers, a crust, mantle and core.
With grinding tectonic plates
always churning underneath, building
and releasing pressure.
This magma, red like the blood that
escapes its epidermal crust, is blue-black underneath. Magma, blood, rivers,
emotions, they are all different forms of the same life-force,
the same energy of god or of the mother
spirit. Religion does not matter,
what you do with this energy is what
matters. Religion is an attempt
to make sense of this, rogers calls it
the actualizing tendency, maslow- self actualization, frued—id, Murray—the
pathways between cognitive affective units, skinner- reaction. When will
humanity stop focusing on all of the differences
and be at peace
that we are all one in the same. All of
our theories, opinions, judgments, values, wars, deaths, births, marriages;
they all stem from the same source of life.
My love once told me, “You were born
whole.”
And we are, but it is a matter of
creating outlets for this energy,
positive outlets, and not suppressing
it, or creating incongruence through introjections
or subsception others ideas about what our energy should be.
Our particular energy is like a
snowflake, the individual veins in leaves
who all fell and were nourished from
the same maple tree. Some fear this energy,
not knowing how to rein the wild horse.
That is where western thought is flawed,
why would you want to put a bit in the
mouth of a wild stallion?
Let it run free.
It will run towards flourishing
pastures and gallop across vast landscapes
of genius, I promise you. But stallions
never run alone.
Along with outlets you must find a way
to incorporate others energy into your being, without this you will never be
whole. Like subsisting on tofu
for your whole life, this keeps you
strong but you are never fully satisfied.
Explore, incorporate and weave rainbow
strings of energy
into a myriad tapestry, so that you can
feel every color splayed
across and through your body like
splintered light off a prism.
The Zoroastrians have but one guideline
to live by,
“in each day, acknowledge a thought
well thought, a word well spoken, a deed well done.” Make this your scope
through which to view the world
and yourself in it. Be patient, and
forgiving.
Punishment is merely another form of
dishonoring your energy.
We all have nefarious inclinations,
whose origins seem foreign from the remaining psyche. Welcome these demons,
forgive them, love them,
there is no other way. For all energy
in action has an equal and opposite
reaction, It is only natural that the yin be followed by
yang, yet without one
we could not define the other. You have
ebony and ivory tendencies, but when will you see that they are one in the
same. It is easy to embrace
the positive, what is harder is
accepting there is a dark side
of the moon. This is essential, explore
yourself
and you will find how they balance each
other out.
Sometimes I don’t know where these word
come from,
they are the coiling and uncoiling
genes in my nuclei,
who bind and spread messages throughout
my body, like electricity,
the words from my ancestors flow
through the blue rivers to the dam
at my skull, where there are no pain
receptors, only action potentials,
a potential we all must cultivate and
learn to control. The first step
is recognizing that which you fear most
about yourself. When it realizes you
have addressed its presence it will
quickly hop up and attempt to wiggle
out of your awareness but you must catch it by the heel, reel
it in it
and hug it. Offer it a place in your
heart and you will find
that it always had a place there, an
empty cubby with a bright child’s name on it, abandoned when you tried to cast
it out of yourself. Allow this child to come back,
learn with the rest of them who
encompass your classroom.
You are the teacher, you control each
thought, each word, each deed,
live them well.
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