made, a thousand decisions
between the dim and fearful
view (I can't do this. I've
bitten off far more than I
can chew) and the other
side (somehow this will
all work out).
The mind insists on
choosing sides, pitting
pessimism against optimism,
not content to let life be
exactly as it is. I imagine
the best or worst, and react
to mere possibility, not
present fact. But the desire
to control and judge, to pick
one experience over another -
is that just what humans do?
Every ingredient is welcome
at life's banquet. There's
nothing wrong with this stew
I'm cooking up. Whatever's
here; the bland or spicy mix
of shadow and light, the
grasping and the pushing back -
it's all equally sacred in the
eyes of the creator. The only
operative conjunction is "and"
not "but". How much
can I let in - both sides
and the middle, front and back,
the water and the wine glass
each are full. The feast of
life is laid out for the tasting.
One Soul: More poems from the heart of yoga, Danna Faulds, pg 55-56
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