today I don’t poison myself for a pension
today I don’t soil my spirit
today I don’t split my soul.

yesterday I was
lightning in a bottle
a watermelon on the vine
a rocket on the pad.

today I’m a rusty old pile of railroad spikes
tossed together in a heap by the tracks
wondering why the trains don’t come anymore.

today I’m quiet
today I don’t speak
today I listen.

today I walk the circle
that leads to the center
from the outside
to the inside
and back again.

today I know that I’m only a sparkle of sunlight
shimmering on the surface of an ageless sea
today I hear the blade cutter in the distance
but I know it’s not for me
today I know the scariest thing I’ve ever known
that I can’t make my life
the life I thought it would be
not today
maybe tomorrow
but not today.

(PDF version)

spirituality is a vibrant awakening consciousness
a deep and present awareness of ourselves
of everyone and everything around us
it’s knowing that our words and our actions matter
even when no one hears and no one sees
it’s listening to the heart and the mind and the body
to moon stars sun and trees
to wind fire rain and earth
to animals and plants
to dreams and daydreams
to grief and anger and hunger and sex
to all of the feelings we’ve been told not to have
and all of the thoughts we’ve been taught not to think
in the right balance
in the right time.

spirituality demands critical thinking
it requires curiosity
a desire to know what’s real
a willingness to strip off conditioned patterns of perception and habit and belief
layer by layer
regardless of personal cost
because otherwise
truth and truthfulness are lost.

spirituality is facing the mysteries of life and death
without hiding from questions that cannot be answered
and without the comfort of tall tales passed down through a million dark nights
it’s knowing that we are not alone
because we’re all here together
and it’s all up to us
together.

(PDF version)

I’m in a wild place
squatting naked next to a lake
no other people around
maybe an animal or two
it’s peaceful here
I see my reflection in the water
the face looks cro-magnon
or perhaps neanderthal
but I feel fully conscious
it’s an experience of
wholeness and awe
wonder and peace
maybe my first visit to earth
in a human-like body.

priest

pre-columbian central america
I lead and perform religious rituals
human sacrifice
vivisections
I inflict terrible agonizing physical pain on others
I perform these cruel acts without malice
but also without compassion
motivated by a religious conviction so deep
that it completely disconnects me
from the reality of the suffering I cause.

heretic

europe
middle ages
my head is being held underwater
some religious authority
is attempting to force me to admit something
or perhaps recant or repent some blasphemy
next
I’m in the woods
hung upside down from a tree by my left foot
as punishment
for contradicting the established order
it’s a form of crucifixion.

zealot

europe
1600s
I’m a member of a religious sect that practices self-injury
I drip hot candle wax on my back
I cut myself because the pain “brings me closer to god”
I shove hot pepper up my nose
to make myself sneeze
“to get the devil out”
I allow myself to be mock crucified
when I’m 24 I hang myself “to be with god”
I’m found hanging
from a wooden beam in one of the rooms of the monastery
I am dead
the walls and floors are made of stone.

simpleton

colonial new england
I’m mentally impaired
my neck and hands have been locked in wooden stocks
as punishment for looking at a pretty young girl
my consciousness is primitive
I feel bewildered most of the time
but I find comfort and solace
in a direct experience of nature
standing in a meadow
awes me
calms me
fills me with peace
I have no concept of why I’m being punished
but I have no ill feeling toward anyone about it either.

diplomat

japan
late 1800s
I’m a japanese diplomat
working to open my country to contact with the west
I want to bring the two halves
east and west
together
I want to build a bridge between
old ways and new ways
I hope to be
an ambassador to the future.

assassin

chicago
1920s
a dark alley at night
I’m an enforcer for the mob
a tough guy
a hit man
but this time
someone’s put a hit on me
the nose of a revolver
kisses the skin behind my left ear
someone pulls the trigger
bye bye.

(PDF version)

the animals seem to be prehistoric mammals
many are quite large
some are recognizable
such as wooly mammoths
although they appear to be covered in leaves
instead of hair
we see some other kind of elephant-like creature as well
but there are lots and lots of other types
of animals I’ve never seen
all are four-legged
all look primitive
as if they’re early versions
or in the first stages of development as species
many have heads and bodies that are oddly proportioned
some have extremely big eyes.

it’s fascinating to watch them go by
they all move with great urgency
I comment that it’s almost as if they’re migrating
or trying to get away from something
my brother says
I don’t see a trace of self-reflection in any of them
I agree.

a large black horse wanders by
dressed in black with black riding equipment
medieval style
but it has no rider
one of us says
that’s the black knight’s horse
it’s kind of out of place with the other animals
but we don’t seem to notice
I think we might have seen the black knight out there too
wandering around
without his horse.

(PDF version)

perhaps we swim with some bigger fish
forms of intelligence far in advance of our own
or maybe just
different
beyond our understanding if not our perception
we may perceive some of them as predatory
we may perceive some of them as benevolent
but no matter how old or powerful they may be
none of them are gods
they’re all instruments of evolution
nothing more
nothing less
just as we are.

(PDF version)

you can’t hold any of it.

we don’t own anything
we don’t get to keep anything
not love or money
not friends or enemies
and certainly not
time.

my life will become
someone else’s life
my memories will become
someone else’s memories
even my face will become
someone else’s face
sooner or later.

someday I’ll be a fish again
and I won’t remember
the taste of a hook in my mouth.

someday I’ll be a baby again
trying to stand for my first time
falling down and getting up
over and over til I get it right.

someday I’ll be a tree stump again
nothing left of me but my roots
watching the other trees rise and fall
slowly fading to dust and dirt.

someday an arrow will take me down
pierce my heart
empty my life
finish me
and when it does
I’ll be an arrow again
the arrow that pierces
someone else’s heart.

(PDF version)