x + y =

There are some things you just can’t quantify- creativity, balance, sense of self, to name a few. We cannot quantify emotion, we cannot quantify joy or fulfillment or apathy. We cannot quantify the meat of what makes us, us at any given moment.

Unlike days, or years, or the GPS of our external environment, our internal environment has no laws or boundaries. It is in reckless rebellion to structure and order.

The stuff that matters live like nomads in the jungle of our souls and who are we to say where the boundaries are? Where one country, one emotion, begins and where another ends?

I feel like I am learning how to be alone again. Maybe it’s that im learning how to accept myself, as me, right now.

Would’nt it be easy if “right now” just didnt change? But that is the illusion, that there is any definition of right now. Right now can only exist in the framework of there being a NOT right now. But we know that doesn’t exist. There will never be a not right now, there will never be a right now, there will just be this element, this essence of our experience at any given quantifiable breath, that we will try to box into a singular moment.

We elude ourselves.We dance between ourselves, we come up for air from ourselves. But we photo (3)will always be sandwiched and sometimes whiplashed-by this experience and trying to describe this experience.

I think that’s where poetry comes in. Poetry IS the threshold. Poetry is NOT the experience, and our descriptors in words and syntax and sounds are only sign posts.  But poetry is the most gallant effort our hearts make at self reflection, or this insatiable urge to quantify self.

Threshold

Threshold,

A place where the past is complete, but the future hasn’t yet begun.971179_695906810435325_1032533549_n

Between two beautiful worlds exists a world all it’s own. A reminder, that there is nowhere to go, there is no final destination, just chapters.

I’ve come upon an empty page and all I want is to draw myself naked in the middle of a turquoise ocean, floating, face to the sky, warmth above and cool beneath. 

I’m trusting,

that the right combination of salt and H2O will keep me at the surface if I breathe just right. I’ll focus on that.  In and out, simple, right?

These words that want to crash from my fingers and the song that keeps escaping from my lips.

 I must allow all of this.

Even if there is no obvious next step. Even if it’s one precipice after the next. Perhaps these edges are the truth.

Each threshold asks us to dive deeper into now. It asks us to give up the past and the future and do nothing less but drop to our knees and offer up both empty palms.

So we can do nothing less but fill our eyes with new light and our hearts with the pulse of this. very. moment.

Our minds- asked to be empty and bold. And in the grace of letting it go say, “I do not know. I do not know”