Are we born
already knowing
all we need to know
to be happy?

Were all these years I’ve spent
striving for understanding
merely a distraction,
avoiding the simplicity of being,
afraid to surrender
to what already is?

What compelled me
to build these edifices,
these walls
against the rawness
of naked truth,
when it is only my resistance
that chafes me,
not the truth itself?

Before we learned to doubt,
did not nature
nurture us completely,
absent the demons
that our restless minds conjure?

Are we not born
into paradise,
but with the power
to imagine Hell?

Can we not, then,
imagine our way
back from our fever dreams,
and back to the heaven
from which we came?

In fond memory of Fred Rogers

Do you like to be yourself
because that’s who you are?

Do you like to be yourself
because that’s just who you are?

You’re not better
than anyone else,
you’re just who you are.

You’re not so different
from anyone else,
you’re just exactly
who you are.

Do you like to be yourself
because that’s who you are?

There is no one
just like you,
and that’s just who you are!

How can we be complacent,
when we live in a universe like this?

We are surrounded by wonders,
sometimes hidden,
too often ignored.

To open our eyes and hearts
to the grandeur around us
is to let ourselves be overwhelmed,
carried beyond all understanding,
beyond ourselves,
beyond the little limits
of our lives.

We are tiny particles of the limitless,
destined never to grasp it whole,
but blessed to rejoice
in these little glimpses
we are given.

The beginning of kindness
is to notice your own cruelty.

The beginning of compassion
is to notice your own indifference.

The beginning of love
is to notice your own fear.

At this window,
I stand in a tableau
of past relationships,
mementos of learning,
bit by bit,
how to love,
and be loved.

This cat beside me
is a token of my marriage,
my adopted second son;
at first unwanted,
he has grown in my heart
to be part of my family,
a trusted companion.

Beside him sits an instrument,
a gift of music
that recalls the warmer moments
of a tumultuous romance,
many years past,
its bell tones recalling
the harmony and understanding
we were able to share,
within brief islands
of calm.

Beneath them is a table,
left, as she moved on
toward a new life
(and away from our entanglement),
by a loving friend.

Above us,
a set of delicate chimes
tinkle gently,
singing the spirit
of another beloved one,
now gone from this world;
its soft melodies,
like drifting smoke,
are my inheritance,
my remembrance.

Each of these
is another token of love
tried, failed, or fading
with time.

Standing here,
amidst these reminders,
I see how much reaching for love
has shaped my life,
and how, with its grace,
I will continue to learn
how to give it,
and how to receive.

There has been an accident,
ahead on the highway,
which, for me,
is simply a delay.

Here in my car,
for two hours now,
my discomfort grows -
I am tired and hungry,
and I need to pee.

But what, I wonder,
happened up ahead?

Are all these emergency vehicles,
sirens Dopplering past,
lights blinking in the near distance,
tending to the victims
of something much worse
than my own inconvenience?

What drama
interrupted my peaceful ride,
but interrupted the lives
of people I will never know
in ways beyond
what I can imagine?

Finally, I am released
from my impatience,
as I pass a tableau
of mangled metal,
the scattered carcasses of cars,
the occupants (if they still live)
long taken from the scene.

How would I feel
if I lingered here,
slowed down
by morbid curiosity,
contemplating the fates
of these people
I don’t see?

How strange,
to brush by the edge of this,
only dimly aware
of the horror of it.

How blasé we are,
sailing through our lives,
mostly blind to all the little tragedies
and personal disasters around us,
until they are thrust
directly in front of us,
and we are forced to look.

The magic of a painting
(or a photograph)
is how it seems
to make time stop,
freezing a moment
in this river of change.

In the flow of life,
time seems always
to forge ahead,
leaving us behind
as we contemplate
what just happened,
unprepared
for what will happen next.

How pleasant, then,
for memory’s tableaus
to be spread out before us,
as so many works of art,
objective artifacts
of our experience,
spread out for our perusal,
at our leisure,
as if time did not flow
at all.

And if it didn’t,
what would it feel like
to be alive,
as if in a museum,
a tribute to life,
a monument,
but not in the flow
of life itself?

The world giveth,
and the world taketh away,
in ways both big and small.

It is filled
with random carelessness,
and random kindness,
exquisitely balanced,
if we are willing
to accept them both.

Yesterday,
I strolled the park,
relaxing in the cool night air.

And along came a boy,
racing on his bike behind me,
warning me too late,
not able to avoid me.

Grazing past me,
his bike scraped across my wrist,
leaving a small red wound,
and an otherwise bare wrist.

Where were my treasured watch
(with a calculator and stopwatch built in!)
and the prayer beads
given to me in kindness,
blessed by a Buddhist teacher?

Scattered in the brush,
I found the remnants of both,
watch strap ripped beyond repair,
the prayer beads mostly gone.

The little pains of loss
were stronger than the stinging of my skin,
until, with some reflection,
I could simply let go
of blame and indignation,
and wanting what I no longer had.

I will never know who it was
who carelessly deprived me
of these two cherished things,
and, as I let them go,
I find that it’s okay.

And so, on a new day,
I am sitting in another park,
writing and relaxing,
on another beautiful night.

As I sit,
a woman approaches,
and, in a kindly, exotic voice,
asks if I would like her pizza,
which she could not finish.

Box in hand, I take it home,
to share it with my son.

Hot from the oven,
the smell of herbs and garlic
permeating the house,
I luxuriate
in what is, perhaps,
THE BEST PIZZA IN THE WORLD!

I will never know who it was
whose kindness
brought us this little feast,
or where the best pizza in the world
could be found again,
and, upon reflection,
that is okay,
as well!