I long to live every dream I have had. I long to ignore all the nitemares I have had. I want, I want, I want. It’s a damn easy thing to do.
Want is a desire that may provide me with a completion of my wants, but most of my wants are unrealized. O, I want to eat when I am hungry, or drink when I am thirsty, I want to sleep when I am tired... but these wants, the big things - lots of money to materialize dreams and desires... it is those that frustrate me.
Have I been mislead in believing that material gain comes through something that I trade for my talent? My job, my talent, up for sale to the highest bidder makes my bankroll. My bankroll makes my reality. The more money I have the greater my reality. I don't know...
My life is quite a novel. I am a writer, a poet, a thinker, a painter, a listener and observer. These talents don't pay worth a damn. They might pay if my marketing skills were improved, but that is not the reality.
My reality is the confrontation with being me. Me wants, me needs, me desires to fulfill. No different from yours. Me is like the rest of we. We all have those same desires, do we not?
So few have won the game, but yet it is those few that we all aspire to become. I remember Country Joe McDonald singing “it takes so many losers to make a winner.” But losers are those that will again and again play the game. The game never truly ends for that is the reality and reality is the game.
Our spirit never loses but this body which it occupies is what wins or loses... this body of tools that we long to use to win the game our spirit longs to obtain. Life is the reality, matter rushing through the timelessness of space to become the essence of our spiritual being. Our game, the Super Bowl of Existence, where we compete with our body using our senses to define our spiritual wants and needs one yard at a time. We fumble and fall, we tackle and block the obstacles before us just to survive, much less to win, but it is the win that we all strive to gain.
My problems are my own. The goals loom large in the distance seemingly always out of reach, but never-the-less the game goes on. Each breath, each heartbeat given freely to play out Self using these senses to create the dream, to fulfill the want, to get the need, to win the realization that I am simply me doing what I do. Should I ever win it will be no thing but a satisfaction in knowing that I played, I learned, I gained experiences to mold this ego into the best reflection of Self that I could. The mirror cleansed of confusion and doubt reflecting the power of Self, the light that never grows dim.
Cecil
06 February 2005
Totem (detail)
[we are stacks of our experiences, some standing tall while others simply fall]
