Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Grasping For Straws

The biggest heartbreak in my life was when I realized that just because I had seen made no difference, gave me no privilege, offered no shortcut.

The Buddhists claim that the point of the practice is precisely a shortcut built into the scheme of things. They claim that otherwise there is a really long path, measured in uncountable lifetimes. With the shortcut, it is remotely possible (though highly unusual) that the job is done in one lifetime. On the other hand most of us can’t do that even if we want to, even though the shortcut is there.

As usual, there is responsibility and accountability. I am responsible and accountable for the risks I take or refuse. Ignorance is indeed no excuse, and there is no excuse for ignorance. There are so many resources now.

Well. That lacks compassion. Of course ignorance excuses, but it doesn’t change outcomes. Resources are no longer scarce but distribution really sucks.

I hide in beauty, hide in love, hide in things. I trap myself. What can it mean to hide in love? I want to believe that love is the answer. It is not true. Love is not an answer, it is an open space. There is no place to hide.

Grasping For Straws

I am not now whole
and have never been as you
say. You ring the gong.
Too much fear and pain
for that, too much chasing dreams.

I hide in beauty,
hide in love and things,
attempt to make them all last.

There is no secret,
slow progress only
because there's too much grasping
for straws in the way.

May 19, 2009 12:53 PM


  1. Yep. It is so is it not. I find myself in a place of straw grasping and it's not pleasant. I think I will let go now :)


  2. Erk! That means you have to trust that letting go is okay...

    What if you fall off the cliff, oh no!

    I had a dream of trying to pantomime ripping my own arm off and beating myself over the head with it. It was supposed to be a joke. It didn't work as a joke. I was embarassed. The girl in my garage, sitting alone in a chair was a total stranger to me. She had short black hair and I had thought she was a friend of mine, a man I know who had recently lost an arm (he hasn't, and she was small and slender while he is curly blond and large). It turned out she was very sad, and hardly noticed my antics.

    The house was not this one. The garage was on the wrong side and empty, but the house next door seemed to be rather like my neighbor's next door. As usual, my dream life is not about here.

    I have no clue what to make of this one.

  3. I think perhaps you are right but I am content to flounder in love and beauty for now.


    (thank you for your kindness my way...for all your kindnesses, really.)

  4. No, love is not the answer, nor a hiding place. But love can be companion and strength for the journey. In the same breath it can be a crutch. Ever elusive...love.

  5. I don't mean to quibble but I wrote that love is not an answer. I did not write "love is not the answer". I think there is a crucial difference in that replacement of a word. Love stands on this side of questions, on the asking side, not on the far side of questions, the answer side.
    Ask with love, do not seek love as an answer. Start with love. Let the ending be what it is. Do not demand love but offer love. You see what I mean? Love is in this sense a space from where I come. When this focuses down through the question, then love in the moment of asking becomes a force. This is the heart of white magic.

  6. like a drunken bird in a midnight choir i have tried in my own way to be free... or something like that.

    through a soda straw
    grabbed greedily
    at its flexible throat
    from a triple thick shake
    comprehending life
    in the only way
    i can

    sticky empty cups
    in a public garbage can
    flap half open
    content strewn
    on the sidewalk

    grasping straws

  7. Imagine my surprise and glee when I found you in my comments. I shall invoke the spirits that they may fly to your side and assist you in your possibilities. I shall lay a small suggestion down in the back of your ectoplasmic synapses (all twelve of them) that you should find your orbit in a tighter shape and your landings here somewhat more frequent.

    I miss you.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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