Hallway to Nowhere

Tag: kindness

  • Cry Sorrow, Sorrow, Yet Let Good Prevail (Poem)

    I do not fear the monsters of this world.

    I have long familiarity with these.

    Depression, anxiety, and their coterie

    Have almost been my family.

    I dwell in comfort with such dark beasts.

    What has the ability to undo me entirely are the beings of light:

    Kindness, consideration, and their kin.

    The afflictive malfeasants offer predictable torment

    That at times seems almost a shelter.

    I can hide with them from myself and the world.

    Venturing into lambency that flickers with uncertainty

    I find an often frightening task.

    To see others is one thing;

    To be seen in turn unsettles me in the extreme.

    Still I take up this challenge,

    With the words of Aeschylus giving me strength.

    And the company of monsters ever at hand.

  • Where I Am (Poem)

    If I truly wish for all beings to be happy and free from suffering,

    I must apply this also to myself.

    At the moment, with my physical being wracked by pain

    And my mind clouded by bleak depression,

    I find this to be a difficult task.

    Equanimity towards my own state is a struggle.

    Occasionally I relax into spaciousness and acceptance.

    But old patterns return again and again

    To obscure my view and murk the light.

    Sometimes I can see that these are illusion and let them go;

    Other times I grasp them tightly as old familiar friends.

    Indeed, they once were ropes that tethered me in safety.

    So rather than judging them (and myself for holding on to such),

    Let me honor their place, grant them gratitude,

    And treat them gently with kindness.

    I walk the path I do in knowledge that it looks the same

    But, like everything, is always changing.

    I still stumble and even fall. The rocks that bruise me

    Appear like the stones from yesterday and before, even unto the distant past.

    Yet when I pause to see, after the pain of impact, they are not.

    I take hold again of my stick, pull myself up, and even take in

    The glorious colors of the trees and sky and listen to the wind.

    I walk on with my usual unsteady gait until the next halt.

    This is where I am.

  • Where I Live (Poem)

    Where do I take refuge?

    If I build my happiness on external factors,

    I will lose this. Always.

    A futile task, as this brings short-term satisfaction

    Which leaves me wondering where to go next.

    My home will present problems

    So that I move to find a better place. Again and again and again.

    I think surely this time I will be content.

    But there I am, and I remain the same.

    I cannot leave myself behind

    Yet I cast my unease as resulting from the wrong circumstances.

    I want to stay in the place where I dwell

    Without adding to my own suffering.

    Just being alive can bring pain enough.

    Let me learn wisdom, practice kindness,

    Thereby to find peace.

  • Losar Reflection (Poem For the New Year)

    Let me grateful.

    For when I awaken in the morning.

    If I do so with relative ease and comfort,

    This is a joy.

    If I do so with suffering and pain,

    This is also a joy.

    Whatever happens, I have enormous opportunity.

    Whether the day brings a chance to actively study and reflect;

    Whether the day brings time to pause and rest.

    Each provides an expedient time to practice.

    May I seize every occasion possible

    To act with kindness, compassion, and patience.

    Towards myself; towards other beings; towards the world.

  • Power & Light (Poem- Feb 9 PouncePunk Art Challenge)

    How do you survive when the power goes out?

    Thus: During the frigid night, I piled up every blanket I owned on the bed

    While Miss P and I shared our warmth underneath.

    The next morning my taxi driver knocked on my door unannounced

    To buy us both breakfast in a restaurant that somehow had restored function.

    When we returned home, I found someone had shoveled snow from my door.

    Finally the electricity was restored. But I had learned that light

    Does not depend on wires or current. It shines continuously and all around.

    Power is not a utility; power is community. Thank you all for opening my eyes.

  • What Is Simple? (Poem-Feb 3 PouncePunk Art Challenge)

    Life used to be so simple.

    Really? Or does blinkered memory make it so?

    Just being alive, no matter your situation, entails mess.

    Complications always arise,

    And our control is often more limited than we imagine.

    If we learn to handle the uncertain ground that is existence,

    Then we can find meaning and connection.

    We can let go of fear and instead face change

    With openness, resoluteness, and acceptance.

    What if we turn the fight into a dance?

    Hear songs of kindness, joy, and community rather than tunes of cruelty, misery, and division?

    The hard road of suffering is our common path, but how we travel it depends on us.

    Pay attention. The choice is mine and yours and ours.

    It can begin with a single breath.

  • How To Count (Poem)

    How to delineate a life lived?

    Let us use not temporal posts of days or years

    But limn the finer measure

    Of love given and received

    Of kindness extended with a free hand

    Of compassion shown in minute and larger ways

    Of laughter shared with those around.

    Choose to see joy

    And continue to delight in our communal dance.

  • My Response To My Christian Troll

    You sent me repeated mesages that were not nice at all. You attacked my beliefs, or rather my lack of belief, and then you went to criticize my attractiveness. And you did this all in the guise of Christianity, in a attempt on a DATING SITE, to convert me. The only thing I did to provoke this onslaught was to mention in my introduction that I was an atheist. That apparently was enough to justify inappropriate behavior that borders on being seemingly unstable.

    I usually would have responded snarkily. But I had been pondering the deep divisions I see around me and I made the decision that wherever possible I would not contribute to this on an individual basis. I do not know what a person is struggling with that makes them act or say the way they do and so I resolved to endeavor to try harder to treat others with kindness and compassion. And that means you. That means the person who gets in my face at the laundromat to berate me about Trump for no apparent reason. That means every single person I encounter, whether I like them or dislike them. I have generally approached people with the idea everyone I meet is a decent human being struggling to do the best they can with what they have at that moment…until they prove differently. Now I’m making an effort to eliminate that last clause. Some people WILL do their best to prove me wrong, true. But I am going to treat them kindly and with respect. Because that is what human beings do. Will I fail sometimes? Sure. I’m not perfect. But I will make the effort.

  • The Kindness Of Strangers

    The Kindness Of Strangers

    I’m struggling with a herniated disc right now. I was at our local representative Evil Empire (AKA Walmart) to pick up some Dream Bones and Community Coffee, those being the only two items that I can’t get anywhere else in town. I come out of the store to see the bus leaving the lot. I must have looked visibly distressed, b/c this man passing by stopped and asked what was wrong. Now, after traipsing from one end of Wally-world to the other, I was already in pain and the prospect of waiting for another to catch the bus was daunting. But I didn’t tell him anything other than I had missed the bus, darn it. He sympathized and walked to his truck. Then he came in a few minutes and inquired where I lived. When I told him, he offered me a ride home.

    Now, I’m not normally in the habit of acepting rides from strangers, especially at Walmart. I covertly checked his groceries-no beer was evident, just food-and checked my internal warning system, admittedly not the best thing, but gut instinct will at least say, “hey, don’t go there”. Everything seemed normal. I said, “Thanks, that is very kind of you.” and followed him to his truck. He put my groceries in his truck and we proceeded to drive off.

    On the way he told me about his daughter who was around my age who had just finished going back to school to get her degree in education. I told him about my newly discovered back woes and some stories from the library. We both agreed that Abingdon is a fine place to live. He said  that if I’ve been in Appalachia since my 30s, I should just go ahead and now start saying that I’m from here. When we finally got to my place, he said it had been nice to meet me, I thanked him for the ride, and we parted most amicably. No creepy Deliverance music ever made an appearance.

  • The Kindness Of Strangers

    The Kindness Of Strangers

    I’m struggling with a herniated disc right now. I was at our local representative Evil Empire (AKA Walmart) to pick up some Dream Bones and Community Coffee, those being the only two items that I can’t get anywhere else in town. I come out of the store to see the bus leaving the lot. I must have looked visibly distressed, b/c this man passing by stopped and asked what was wrong. Now, after traipsing from one end of Wally-world to the other, I was already in pain and the prospect of waiting for another to catch the bus was daunting. But I didn’t tell him anything other than I had missed the bus, darn it. He sympathized and walked to his truck. Then he came in a few minutes and inquired where I lived. When I told him, he offered me a ride home.

    Now, I’m not normally in the habit of acepting rides from strangers, especially at Walmart. I covertly checked his groceries-no beer was evident, just food-and checked my internal warning system, admittedly not the best thing, but gut instinct will at least say, “hey, don’t go there”. Everything seemed normal. I said, “Thanks, that is very kind of you.” and followed him to his truck. He put my groceries in his truck and we proceeded to drive off.

    On the way he told me about his daughter who was around my age who had just finished going back to school to get her degree in education. I told him about my newly discovered back woes and some stories from the library. We both agreed that Abingdon is a fine place to live. He said  that if I’ve been in Appalachia since my 30s, I should just go ahead and now start saying that I’m from here. When we finally got to my place, he said it had been nice to meet me, I thanked him for the ride, and we parted most amicably. No creepy Deliverance music ever made an appearance.