Anxiety of Feeling

Under the blue tent, square hay bales line the perimeter and sun shines as sticky children chase each other. I watch, docile and dreaming. A playful dog runs past followed by a little girl in a white and pink dress. The tent shudders in the wind. A child stumbles and falls into a hay bale. Does fear lie in mortality? That the wonder around us is relatively unconcerned with who and what and where we are. The understanding that life is unknown, even if you are Billy Graham or Buddha or Da Vinci. Does fear lie in the unknown, unknowable and the unseen? I don’t know.

Everyone says when you have enough happiness nothing else matters. When you surround yourself with good energy you will always be happy. That's crap. I’ve had happiness. I’ve had joy beyond joy and I’ve enjoyed the trust of love but happiness cannot be trained. It cannot be taught. It cannot be forced. Without sadness and melancholy there would be no dreams. There would be no art. There would be no life. No freedom. In only a few souls does the desire for freedom hang from their stomach like a hook from a line. In others too, so rare, so far removed from the world, does the desire for justice leak like puss from a wound. The silent sadness that lingers in their eyes stands as a rare testament of humanity. Their thanks from God and the gods and society is as rare as an albino butterfly. Their tears leak into pillowcases of pitiable honesty but it is this tenderness that carries humanity forward.

And I feel this sadness now as I watch a child dig a hole. His fingernails crumbling with dirt and mud, white shirt streaked with finger-painted mud marks. I feel sorry for him. I hope he does not have this pain, the anxieties and fears and hopes and dreams. I hope he blends in and feels wanted. But for me, for my soul, anxiety roams like a feral cat and the question resounds, why am I tortured and to what end will my soul be healed?

There is little doubt this torture comes from the fact that we think we live in glorious movies while sitting on front porches watching cars lumber past as cicadas play the dramatic soundtrack. Each day is one film containing many tragic comedies subtly undertoned with death. That the last movie cigarette will keep us alive, even if we don‘t want it. It’s smoke circles into the air and descends out of our sight like a ball over the fence. And cars drive past, its occupants slow silhouettes. Some stare back, perhaps wondering what memories lie in our souls and when we make eye contact they look away as if hungry alligators tremble at their feet. A pink-orange sky throbes behind their car while the sun sets and ants scatter. Knowledge of existence engulfs us while we try to mask it with alcohol, but existence keeps reminding us after 365 films that we are getting old. Ten years fade and another ten diminish into cemeteries where we expect to be remembered for TV, video games and golf scores.

The child who had fallen into the hay bale screams as her cheeks glisten with wetness in the sunlight. Her mother runs over to offer comfort and soon the sobs subside and the child quickly on her way around the tent again. How quickly we regress pain. I suppose it is our greatest defense mechanism. But why not embrace it? Why don’t we enlist all our passions into one grand army within our soul, happinness stands next to melancholy, tears next to cheek-cracking smiles, and tell our fears, anxieties and depression to stand as it were and fight alongside our joys? It is this I intend to embrace within these entries. To experience dreariness for its own sake and to laugh with it, fight it and embrace it. But most of all I want to live.

Dandelion

I went for a walk today
A dandelion seed ran into my chest
Before I said farewell and picked it off
I said,
Little seed float yourself above
Away from the raspy concrete
The friendless mirrored black roads
The hectic streets of commerce
Float yourself over the semi-trailers
The smoking automobiles
Their charcoal tailpipes
And cruise control pollution
Float yourself through the concrete and glass towers
Weave among birds through avenues

Little seed plant yourself
Reinvigorate us
Show your yellow bosom
Your unmistakable hue
Little seed take back this world
For the oak, maple and juniper
Little seed float yourself into the ground
Bury your tip into crevices
So that we may see again
Take over this world that kills

Little seed grow yourself
Without fertilizers
Between traffic lights
Be brave!
The dotted white lines
Yellow lines
As you know assassination awaits
Show the natureless who owns what

Little seed kill the artificial nature
Of parks gardens zoos
In retail stores who profit from your brethren
Lend your voice to the grapevine
Let it engulf everything that destroyed you
Eat and be merry
Among shopping carts
Plastic wrap that rolls around your stalk
Float yourself away
Little seed float above clouds
Float yourself away

Maybe

Maybe it’s my aquarian hope and humanitarianism. Maybe it’s because I have some sort of insomnia and depression. Or maybe it’s just that I don’t belong here, among this corporate world of greed and amidst flying accusations demanding that everyone be perfectly attuned to everyone else. Maybe it’s the insults and insensitivity on every corner. Maybe it’s that everyone seems to hate everyone else with all their gossip and back talking. Maybe it’s because I’m just angry at it all and cannot choose just one simple thing to fight because it’s all lawless. Every inch of false justice that parades itself in cars that read “To protect and serve” and government department’s fictitiously entitled “justice”. Whatever it is it makes me sad.

I can’t explain it. But I know that I’m tired of the insensitivity, injustice, false advertisements and gossip directed toward our fellow human beings. There is no one in particular I am referencing but I want each person who reads this to understand, I am attempting to no longer act in this way. There are certain reasons for this, some spiritual but mostly because treatment of people should be respectful. If you do not find someone agreeable with your inner self, your choice should be to separate ties with them unless it is family and I’m sorry to say, you must accept the fact that this person will be in your life indefinitely. For those in this situation, it should be noted that while certain aspects of the relationship are disagreeable, there is something that you find acceptable or even likeable about the person. If you cannot find a trait you enjoy, try everything in your power to feel empathy for this person.

I am not above criticism, because none of us are better than our neighbor and I caution against use of knowledge to make others appear unintelligent. It angers me and I wish it did not enrage me so when people treat me condescendingly. I find it disrespectful and unkind. But I am guilty of it. In the future I will attempt to view those who do not share my knowledge as someone who knows more than I do about something and perhaps I may meet them in some other place to gain their advice. Knowledge really is power and power is dangerous. I find this world extremely unfair especially when power is given to those with arrogance. Police officers and politicians seem to abuse power the most. And among those, each one was born, each one has a conscience and each one will die. Attributes we all share. It is for these reasons my respect for mankind lay in their humanism. I do not respect class distinctions nor titles nor power.

The president is my equal. The police chief is my equal. The homeless are my equal. I also do not recognize countries when told I cannot go somewhere I am aghast because if not for us, who is this entire globe for? Aren’t we all flesh and blood and mind? Why are there borders and green cards and passports? We should all be free to do as we wish and go where we wish. Alas, there are those for whom true freedom would allow abuse and for this I am upset. If we are all part of this world why must we destroy it and each other?

Maybe it’s respect for life. Maybe it’s simply that compassion is generated all around us in the trees and animals and sun and moon. Maybe it’s the ‘little things’ I see from time to time. Maybe it’s the small acts of genuine helpfulness and self-sacrifice that some offer to others. Maybe these truths are the small things that keep me going. Maybe it’s that I care enough to keep trudging along in an attempt to dispel all the mindless, ridiculous myths about the darkness of mankind that keeps me going. Maybe it’s that I want to be a better person for myself and for this universe.