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.