Thursday, January 12, 2012

"Once good friend"

I walked away because you don't see me. I'm not a person. To you, I'm a thing. It's a mathematical certainty and I shouldn't take it personally. It never occurred to me this whole time on the planet that I would ever encounter someone who does not see or value the other in anyway that is clear, honest and true, genuine or sincere. I don't understand how that can be...when the word God rolls off your tongue so easily...when your head and heart reach for the heavens...well, with all that Turning you do. It boggled my mind how you could practice such beautiful things and yet nothing about you ever changed or reflected that which you preached.

You argued that you were just playing a role and nothing more...and it shows...oh, how it shows...the absolute nothingness of it all. That's why I'd always been guarded. Not because there was something wrong with me but because there was definitely something not right about you. I quickly learned what discernment means, how useful and sword like it is with a blade so sharp, it cuts through every thing to get to the truth and can not be tainted by distortion or distraction.

I saw what you are which is not what I had thought...against the hue of the yellow bus passing through. I had to put my head down in my moment of shock when the universe decided it was time for a revelation or perhaps, I had simply been awake to witness the landscape of my reality. And I small you were...dwarf like...sitting in your chair. I could no longer hear your words. They sounded muffled and distant even though you were but three feet away from me. How ironic, that you can make so much noise for such a small man.

You lack substance and I have too much heart. You knew this about me. There was a time I believed you were generous and considerate, compassionate and beautiful...but then I realized you were simply reflecting back to me who I am. After all, it's the mirror you're fascinated with. How convenient for you and destructive to the rest of us. But tell me, doesn't it get tiring...all that acting you do?

How cruel you can be mistaking the iron fist for kindness. You're all personality and nothing more. That's all you'll ever be and become. How sad. So sad. You can't be reached no matter how much you turn or beat on that drum, how many exercises you practice or rituals you engage one will touch your depths because there is no depth to discover, nothing to penetrate or affect, to move and stir. There's no one home. You tell yourself, "Well, we are all asleep. None of us are home." And you are only correct to a point. You are unlike us in that you operate from a false sense of self whereas we, from a true sense of self. You do see how the results change, yes?

Your aim is to escape from yourself, from the reality that is you. I aim to get closer to myself, to know myself. Spiritual practices help me understand this struggle. Your spiritual struggle has become distorted and twisted. You only use the teachings as masks to hide and continue being what you are, to continue making excuses for yourself and your behaviour. You have no desire to change. You want things to remain just as they are and how convenient for you again, that you are able to manipulate words and concepts to convince others you have their best interests at heart. What heart?

I figured you out my "once good friend." Even that had been a role, nothing but a role, an act.