Letting Go of Control & the Known

How about those times when something totally unexpected arises? We think we have an idea of where life is going and -whoosh – we’re standing in front of the unknown with the mind scurrying to understand, to get things back on track. We can watch with amazement and wonder to see how life will now manifest?

I wonder about the ego mind’s need to know, to live in the delusion that it can actually control events. I wonder about the depth of that insecurity and fear.

To that mind, the idea of going into that fear and insecurity makes no sense. Though I have ventured in there many, many times, I often sit on this threshold feeling the tears and apprehension. Is the scent of despair real or is the mind projecting that, trying to turn me away from what it sees as an abyss.

This place always fascinates me. I am surprised once again as the heart swells with love and interest in this new state of affairs – something much bigger than all of my history and belief envelops me as I take that first step into ??????

Here is an old poem that reflects part of the turning:

The Same Old Story

The story’s the same
The story’s the same
The heart ever hungers
while mind hunts the game

A heart once young as grass in the spring
dries with the lessons a harsh world can bring
Childhood’s innocence ran through the fields
and suffered the trauma that judgment yields
As I grew up and followed directions
spontaneity died from others’ inspections

The story’s the same
The story’s the same
The heart ever hungers
while mind hunts the game

Now that I’m molded like a lump of old clay
my insides turn brittle as I bake day by day
My face is chiseled in a permanent frown
once green pastures have faded to brown
The body’s a sieve full of old holes
and life a collection of meaningless roles

The story’s the same
The story’s the same
The heart ever hungers
while mind hunts the game

When life is a cup emptied by grief
the heart is readied for famine relief
A single tear falls on parched desert ground
prompted by childhood’s shocking rebound
Pain is a flood like rains in the spring
swelling the heart as new life they bring

The story’s the same
The story’s the same
The heart never hungers
while mining its claim.