Grapple
with the false self
Until
it falls waywardly,
Like
a sack mask of flesh.
Am I
more myself
Than
this tangle of limbs
And
fur and oddly shaped teeth?
Who
goes there
Beyond
the lamp
Of
perception?
How
to accept the gift
Without
the wanting.
Toodles
to you
I'd
like to say.
I
imagine that place
Beyond
preferences,
A
train running out
From
the real thing.
Arise
mighty heart.
I
pound my chest to wake you,
To
stand there galvanized
With
the gold in the field.
Words,
Failed
metaphors.
I
stitch shut my lips
With
the sacred thread,
The
only thread
Of
my making.
--S.P.
Could it be that Swami Prajnaparamita is leaving me messages on bathroom walls these days? His transcendental subtlety grows even as type this. Either that, or I'm getting a little more receptive to the signs that everywhere point to our true nature. One can only hope.
This week we took advantage of the cyber Monday holiday and got ourselves a Christmas tree. I looks nice. It's shedding needles like a mutha, but it's still very full and so perfectly shaped it almost looks fake.
That's what you get when you buy a tree from a store, I guess. At home, we used to go up in the hills and drag one down through the snow. They never looked like this tree, but it was still better that way.
We hung up some the ornaments that belonged to my family. Anyone else out there have a parent who was a Christmas junkie? The day after Christmas my mom would hit the hallmark store right when it opened to get the best deals on wreaths and ornaments and holiday jujubes and gegaws.
My mom always got a good deal. She knew how to do it. Me? Not so much. I wouldn't say I'm a spendthrift or anything but I'm not afraid to pay full price for something. I guess my fantasies revolve around never needing to buy anything at all rather than getting a bargain. I imagine myself some kind of Spartan hero (by which I do not mean a hero of Sparta).
Happy Holidays everyone. I don't know when I'll find time to post this, but I'm sure I'll get it up there soon. It's funny trying to make peace with the holidays. I always get so depressed around this time of year. How much Christmas meant to my mom and the fact that they died on New Year's Eve. It's exhausting, the entire month of December. Actually it starts around Thanksgiving. I realize I'm angry, and a lot of the time I can't figure out why.
For years I didn't even know I was angry. Then I went to psychoanalysis. Turns out I have feelings and they're happening all the time. Don't laugh. You might be surprised by the things of which you're unconscious.
It's dark now. Zoop is in bed and we're hoping it will stay that way for a few hours. We tried to get her down earlier but she was not in on the plan. Here's a picture of her from her one month birthday, which was Saturday.
Who needs Christmas gifts?
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