Thursday, August 22, 2013

The Incident


The Incident, I

Tripped at the edge, fell
into the cavern beneath,
sliding past the mud
and further than that,
tumbled past your old ashes
and mine. We once loved
in all that time, time,
shivery mounds of long time
full of drudge and fear
and beauty and hope,
that too in great sloping piles.
Drifts pack the small hole
leading out of here.
This means I must dig my way
or wither and fade.

‎August ‎22, ‎2013 8:38 AM

4 comments:

  1. always with the choices, even at the end. choice, absolutely pivotal in our formation, and in our undoing too.

    what will you do? i think i know.)))

    xo
    erin

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. When it comes to saving my life, I find my wholeness makes choices without consulting my usual frame of reference. If that sort of beyond conscious choosing is still me choosing, then I choose to survive. However, it doesn't ever feel like my choice in those moments. They don't come very often. Loving you.

      Delete
  2. I don't think I can put the point any more clearly than you have done, Christopher. In the end it seems all to be about beyond-conscious choice. We, the conscious "I's" just need to acknowledge the wisdom of that deeper frame of reference, and obey.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The sensations of living through those moments best serve me if I can just shut off my evaluating mind. The echo from how judgement and discernment lag behind what is actually going on is too loud and creates a strange experience similar to "out of control". Possibly it is even schizophrenic. If you are okay with it, it could be amusing... At least that was my experience one time, as I was so far out front of my pursuers, so completely getting away that the panic was just not there at all.

      Delete

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


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