More Tea, Going First

The gurus often do this. In story after story, it is said that the guru asks a question with the force of his presence and the student achieves the change of state that marks real spiritual progress. So often the question seems to come from the situation but not as an answer to some direct question. This is because the guru cannot actually answer the seeker's question. Or more precisely, the question is not for answering. Every answer closes a spiritual question and the question must remain open. Living the open question is the only hope for the change of state, or as I said in the last post, seeing with God's eyes.

More Tea

He brews tea with snow
Heated over hardwood fire,
Only the best leaves.
His gaze is farther than mine,
Reaching beyond the great sea.
I ask for the truth.
He smiles tenderly, amused,
Then, "More tea?" he asks.

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I no longer follow, but once I was an avid Peanuts fan. Here's a poem about trust. It's Charlie Brown's poem, Charlie is getting a little cynical, but it's not really about the football. At least I don't think it is about the football.

Going First

You said, "You go first,"
But I won't. I don't trust you.
The last time it hurt.

I landed flat on my back
Trying to kick the football
You held, promising, "This time."
So you will go first
Or someone, not me.

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On a personal note, no poems today. I did have some emails to write. My left shoulder has a muscle in it toward the front and side, near the surface that is completely in spasm as I write. I can barely move this arm now.

Earlier this week I was carrying the pain in the first two fingers and my thumb. That's basically gone but I can feel the connection to what is happening because there is some tingling that appears connected to the spasms. This muscle is engaged at certain points of my arm movement which is now extremely limited. I have to shout and groan under the lash of the full brunt of the pain.

I hyperventilate a little. My face is different. All the usual pain manifestations. I have no idea what I did, my best guess is sleeping on it wrong. I don't have certain choices in this regard because of other issues. I have been having really bad days alternating with not bad days. This day seems the worst and I will probably appear in some kind of urgent care tomorrow. All this to say I did not have the stones to write my two poems today, and probably won't tomorrow either. I will let that take care of itself. Wearing socks is beyond me. I can barely get dressed. I must use my right arm for most things. I'm left handed. Shit.

Did you people know that the single most common phrase coming from the cockpit at the last before the plane screws itself into the earth is SHIT? They have that on record because of the radio and the black boxes. Imagine that. It is part of air traffic controller lives that they occasionally have the privilege of hearing a pilot's last words. Want the job?