do you want to know a secret?

yesterday… i met a beautiful person. shy. quiet. unassuming. and… colored with a vapid hue of fear. as we sat and talked, i wondered just what forces had brought us together. what does this person need from me? i thought. and… what do i need from this person?

but then… the veil dropped. my curiosity faded and was replaced with acceptance… and contentment. i didn’t know what to expect, and neither did that person. but it seemed we both knew that whatever was going to be… it was meant to be.

it’s so beautifully… amazingly… peculiar how certain people drift into our lives at certain moments… and how we drift into theirs… and how it all happens in precisely the way that it does. i sometimes pause… and ask… why? but the truth is… it doesn’t matter at all.

nor does it matter if the relationship be good… or bad. what matters is that the experience be nourishing… and teaching… and filled with blossoms. and all manner of blossoms are welcome, as far as i’m concerned. the poisonous and the innocent are equally appreciated… and equally nourishing.

as rumi says: “this is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. first, to let go of life. finally, to take a step without feet.”

oh, how diaphanous it is to just let be… and let free!



another mindful serendipity...

sunday newspaper hurled
outside my office window

timeworn thud
new resonance



she said,
i don’t know where i am,
sometimes. i am here,
but not here. what do you
make of that?

i said,
take what you can from
being elsewhere,
but always come back.



i have been writing. and reading. reading diaries. reading letters. reading journals. i prefer to read the unexpurgated versions of all of the above. i don’t like reading writings that have been cleaned up and made “appropriate” for the general public. my take on it is: if you don’t want to read about someone’s sordid private life… don’t! we all have the choice not to make that investment, after all.

i remember when vaslav nijinsky’s diary was first released… the diary of a man who had lost his senses. except. his writings had been cleaned up. scrubbed of all the madness. and oh, how the words glowed with perfection! then, after a spell, the publishers got their wits about them and released the original, uncut version. a masterpiece!

why would anyone take the liberty of censoring the words… the life… the essence… of another? i find it ridiculous when adults try to protect other adults… or children, for that matter. no one can protect anyone from the truth… from reality. even children will seek out their own truths, and they will read whatever they hunger to read… secretly.

we all seek the learning experiences we need in order to grow in the way we need to grow… and be. we all find what we’re seeking… somewhere.

it all begins with desire… uninterrupted… unfiltered.

and nothing is more desired… more uninterrupted… than what is forbidden.