I used to wonder why it seemed like my heart hardened with every year that passed?
I was mindlessly becoming a thick fossil of judgments and beliefs that people will someday dig up long after was gone
and what will they find?
a person who was so stuck in the amber of his own need to be right about everything that they stopped fighting to explore the mystery of existence
a person who is suspended in the moment in time where they felt the most self-righteous
a relic that was forever entombed by their own sticky pride
oh, my love,
I allowed myself to be seduced by the cozy little cottage my narcissism had built for me to spend the rest of my days hiding inside of
it was well-constructed hobble
that allowed me to become a hermit whose only friend would be my vanity
everything was easy and the days passed quietly
then came the great earthquake that rose up out of the mantle of the Earth to rip straight through my comfortable little home of certainty and self-importance
it turns out that the jagged edges I allowed to form around my heart weren't designed to survive an apocalypse
and I was left with nothing but the shattered remains of my once comfortable selfish life
it was there in my desolation that I decided I would never build my home out of the granite of my hardened thoughts and opinions
the next home I would live in wouldn’t have any doors or walls
it would be a place where all things would come and go with each passing breeze
it turns out that I traded in my ego’s comfy cottage for
a roaring wind tunnel
where each moment is a wild gust of newness
where every grudge that asks me to hold it is taken away by moving air
where every judgment I used to cling to is swept away by blustering mercy
where all of my certainty I used to hoard is stolen by the flurry of mystery and wonder
and once I became an open passage
my heart immediately melted from a rock into singing wind chime
because it turns out that we aren’t here to become stationary fossils
we are here to become a clambering hymn amid the rushing gale of life
but first we have to untether ourselves from ego and our addiction for controlling our time on Earth
and let the wind rush through us
and then we will hear it…
our song
and we won’t ever become a jaded rock ever again
because we will be of the air
my love,
our egos make for the worst retirement home
as the years pass and our hair greys
let’s live our our time together on the breeze
and I swear,
every single gusting day that remains will give us a brand new song to play
so, let the wind come steal our hats and unravel our hair
because the adventure into our wide open heart
is going to be such a wild ride
~ john roedel
(art by Linzi Lynn)
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