A 5 percent version of You
There is such an overwhelming sense to completely withdraw from the world when you are often confronted with the realization that the compromised five percent watered down version of you is still too much for the world to deal with. Too much passion, too much love, too much intensity, too much joy, too much compassion, too much of words spilling out, too much of your voice speaking and hearing the echoes across the empty rooms... and yet you also understand too much silence, too much austerity, too much withdrawing and too much endings and deaths... and suddenly the one thing one realizes is that there is no longer too much pain. One realizes then that one has developed a thicker skin, a few necessary strong walls to keep a safe distance from the world and a willingness to let go of anything and anyone without too much protest to keep your happiness and peace. From amidst the depth of too muchness, one understands the shallowness of attachment-detachment.
As one celebrates with the five percent version of oneself pouring oneself into everything one does... carrying the ninety-five percent of unrealized possibilities aching within, even the aches don't really matter. It is okay to be gone tomorrow, it is fine to bloom today in celebration. No one cares, and neither do you. Not enough for it to hurt. And, you learn happiness and peace in a steady, dull way.
When the benchmarks are lowered, Nirvana becomes a lot closer and easier and then you realize Nirvana is probably overrated too. You look indifferently at various enticements of entanglement that life offers not getting sucked in, and yet you are in the midst of it all, more alive with your five percent watered version than many around are and wonder. And, you realize your wondering too lacks a certain intensity and you drop that too. You make goals, and you meet them with greater ease and lesser fuss. Everything eases off without a struggle, and the universe cloaks you in abundance. You are grateful for all that you are and understand yourself as a mere instrument of creation. And, you let yourself just be.
Alive because you are not dead. And, okay to die if you had to go soon... Maybe, the ninety five percent unused versions of you need to burn themselves out in another life... as you learn to make the watered-down version of you the complete you in this one. Deep down you know, there is more to you than the world can handle. That it has barely scratched the surface of who you are and can be.
This then is the poetry of life. The tragedy, the comedy, the romance, the unsung poetry of the self held in check while the world grapples with the few scrambled lines you share of a song called you.
- SS 4/6/2018