Sidewalk Bends

The perfect life, the dream; It doesn’t exist unless we make it exist. By our doing we force our dreams to become a reality. But what are those dreams? Are they the things that we tell ourselves will make us happy? Is it the dream of wealth, the dream of being heard and recognized, the dream of fame, the dream of comfort through worldly or emotional needs? What is it that drives us?

My dream or so it was a long time ago as a child was to be happy, for my family, my parents to be happy. It was for a world with peace. I wasn’t sure about everything else. I saw that not having to worry about money made some happy, or rather made some think they were happy. I saw that those who had prestigious jobs or a higher education made some think they were happy. I also saw that receiving presents or buying cars and being seen made others think they were happy. All the while, in the back of my mind, but at the front of my heart, I still clung onto that dream of peace, internally and externally for others.

I was never sure how to achieve that dream, my dream as a child. Sometimes I thought the best way to achieve it was to force it on others. Other times I thought I could take away people’s choices, or make a person feel there was no other choice but mine. Demonization and using guilt were other ways. None of these ways seemed to work, at least not for long. People were making choices that seemed to agree with what I thought I wanted, but not always because they truly wanted to make that choice. Some felt pressured. Some felt guilt ridden. Some did it to show face.

What’s peace, without open acceptance? It’s meaningless. What’s happiness if it’s temporary, or comes at the cost of someone else’s happiness? It’s meaningless. Your dream, and my dream; Perhaps they are the same, or perhaps we envision their realization differently? But is what is seemingly good for one, also good for all? At what cost will your happiness or my happiness come?

The cost of happiness…is free.

When a wolf knows he’s a wolf, what will you tell him? Will you convince him he’s a man? Will you try to tame him like a domesticated animal? Will you tell him not to sharpen his teeth at the dinner table? Will you scold him for howling at the moon? Will you tell him not to slaughter the sheep?

When a wolf thinks he’s a man, what will you tell him? Will you dress him as you please? Will you hide him from himself? Will you introduce him to your friends? Will you call him by his name? Will you turn your back with ease? Will you unleash him upon your enemies?

Life is not lived through a window. It is not the image we present or the stories we tell. Life is not the house we have built or the fortunes we foretell. Life is not a collection of friends or the picture of peace we prop up. Life is not about the right answers. Life is vulnerable. Life is being without judging. Life is being without compromising. Life is accepting without being uncaring. Life is a mixed bag. It is joy, and it is pain. It is love, and it is hate. It is happiness, and it is sorrow. It is fondness and appreciation. It is growth in a sea of unending change. Life is perfect in its seeming imperfection. Life is…

Some say I speak in riddles.
Listen with your heart.

Some say my words are confusing, and purposefully misleading.
Let go of your expectations.

Some say that I do not take things seriously and make too many jokes.
Live in the moment.

Some say that I speak above others.
Look beyond the words.

Some say I like to cause mischief.
Tear down the walls.

Some say that I am judgmental.
Let go of your fears.

Some say they know who I am.
Look into your soul.

An illusion is still an illusion regardless of how many live in it. So often in our lives we look to others to tell us how we should live and how we should love in life. We are told how to be happy. We are told how to pray. We are told how to worship. We are even told how to love. No one ever tells us to just be, to be ourselves. And rather than try to be ourselves, we look to others for a nod of support. Little do we know, that those who we look to for support, also look to us for a hint at how they should live. So rather than being ourselves and others being themselves, we lie to each other. We lie about what makes us happy. We lie about ourselves. Rather than living with all that we are, laid out for others to see, we hide ourselves in the illusions we create. And rather than stepping outside of these illusions, we invite others to live with us in illusion. Each in our own illusion, we are afraid to admit our faults. We are afraid to step out and say, I do not have to do this. I do not have to hide myself. You do not have to do this. You do not have to hide yourself. Step out from the illusion and be your real self. Step out and I shall be there waiting for you.

photo: LIFE Magazine

I like to walk on cliffs. Be careful, don’t follow me.
I like to walk in quick sand. Be careful, don’t follow me.
I like to walk the narrowest path. Be careful, don’t follow me.
I like to walk a crooked line. Be careful, don’t follow me.
I like to walk through fire. Be careful, don’t follow me.
I like to play with the other side. Be careful, don’t follow me.

If you can see past the illusion, come walk with me.
If you can put aside our differences, come walk with me.
If you can cast aside your doubt, come walk with me.
If you can understand, shhh. Come walk with me.

Surely there are many illusions in this life. But even among the illusions there is truth. There is truth in the things some find despicable. There is truth in the horrific. There is truth in silence. There is truth in all that is. What we each decide to do with that truth is up to us. We can hide it, we can fight it, or we can choose to peal the layers back. Even in the chaos there is peace. How we each carry that truth is up to us. Though sometimes warped by our mind and by our desires, it exists without judgment or blame.

If we judge our life and our experiences by a measuring stick, then we’ve already lost. All too often we judge the circumstances of our life by the perceived accomplishments of others and even by the occurrences in our own lives. But what if we placed an artificial ceiling over our heads? How many of us would be willing to surpass it? How many of us would reach beyond it? How many of us would even realize we could reach beyond? What if the only boundaries were the ones we placed in front of ourselves? We are our own worst enemy. All too often we succumb to expectations, whether they are our own or others’. We place others on pedestals. We idolize and worship. Whether it is wealth, fame, stature, or one’s place in society, we find ways to distill that which cannot be separated. We set ourselves apart. And in that process, we measure ourselves against our dreams and expectations.

What if what we perceived as the ideal was in fact an illusion? What if the greatest illusion, or delusion of all was desire, whether it is the desire to reach a state of enlightenment, or the desire to cling onto a memory or moment in time. In this state of want, do we not lose perspective? Do we not try to relive the past, or try to grab for the future in a veiled attempt to catch what cannot be captured? In that process, do we not become slaves to our desires?

Do not get lost in words for they do not tell the whole story.
Do not get lost in images for there is surely more than one view.
Do not get lost in stories for surely much has been forgotten.
Do not blindly hang your trust on another’s beliefs for what they know is no more than what you want to accept.

Beyond the words,
beyond the images,
beyond the stories,
beyond belief,
there is you, waiting to be heard.

Listen with an open heart.
Listen with an open mind.
Look beyond these words.
Do with your heart, what your eyes and your ears could not.
Be not afraid of what it tells you, for it is not anything you did not already know.

Not every dream is a vision;
Not every vision is a dream;
Not every dream is a message;
Not every message is from spirit;
Not every spirit is a guide;
Not every guide is what they seem;
and yet some speak in absolutes.

What is written has been changed;
What is spoken has been distorted;
What is seen has been covered;
What is felt has been destroyed;
What is taught has been convoluted;
and yet some speak in absolutes.

Not every memory is the past;
Not every memory is the future;
Not every memory is our own;
and yet some speak in absolutes.

Not everything is what it seems
and yet some speak in absolutes.