Flow down the shadowy path
Where does my pen want to go
in this fresh Morning Page flow?
Who knows, does it actually matter though?
From the page the ink will grow, perhaps smudge,
blot at the edges with a slight touch.
You slept at an early hour
and feel the energy, the coursing power of alertness,
the glow of morning light burning through the mist
of cloudy thought.
Shining right into the gates of iron wrought
that still hide shadowy darkness
like a villain in a lifelong plot.
Into the castle moat I throw the detritus
of yesterday’s hard fought struggle,
like a Harry Potter Muggle feeling stuck in the mud
as others zoom around on witches brooms of fancy.
Lately I bounce between feeling wizardry and stupidity,
flow and struggle, glow and shadow.
Feeling both and the duality of existence,
the quickness and the silence
and the yin and the yang, a balance not to maintain
but to understand the rush and the refrain
in an ever flowing neutrality.
Feeling strong then raw,
child-like growing and wonder into confident thunder,
back into smiling quiet and then still sunlight.
In traveling these extremes I realize
that the labels that we seem to fit into, like Myers Briggs
and Enneagram and astrological signs
are all single facets of the wonderful design
of your ever-shifting constellation of inner stars. You are
so much more than these labels. You don’t need fables
of where from introverts draw their energy,
who Aquariai deem their natural enemies.
When you don’t need to know how your presence fits
into the fabric of fate, your presence is free to relate
to any part of that weft,
at times resonating in treble and others in bass,
no time spent in waste
on if that time and space is right for you.
You already have a compass built inside of you
to tell you if this feels present for you,
if you can spend time and fall into the bend
and flow into that part of the universe you find yourself in.
Seek nectar, find within where shadow and light begin to blend,
and at times contemplate the end
to remind yourself that time is both infinite and punctuated
with beginnings and story ends.
To that end let’s seek joy and play, sit with pain and say
to yourself, “It’s not about me.”
Mental exercise I just went through,
let’s put it down on paper to think through later.
If you’re just going through the bends like the leaf in a river,
how can you deliver like Gengis Khan and change the world?
I forget in that cipher that being one with the flow
isn’t about losing what you know,
it’s about being open to the universe making through you
so you can still have a rippling impact.
In fact it’s about seeing the knobs and levers
that your singular ego would see never.
If it doesn’t need to make sense with your past
the present can transform you, teleport you
to a different elevation from which
you’ll never fear spiritual starvation.
You know that your ramblings don’t need bounds to resound with truth;
we don’t need to elevate you on some booth
because the light in its natural form
will break through your understood norms
and make you float up and forward
on the winds of time
and align with the will of the minds of others
on the same path that sweeps together
with forces of both peace and wrath.
The math will work out, the path will unfold.
Step into the light and darkness with bold steps borne of old.
