For the first time in my adult life, I’m truly listening to and understanding the lyrics to Whitney Houston’s “The Greatest Love of All”. Yo…this song is seriously amazing. It contains such an important message.
I am a process. You are a process. We are a process. Each of us is perpetually ‘becoming’. There is no [natural] end. What doesn’t grow is dead.
Perfection is illusory, yet I strive to manifest it in the most possible way by simply being better. Sometimes, I fail. Sometimes, I succeed. Some lessons take a while to truly get and some changes take longer to implement than desired. Everything in its course as everything happens in its own time. Knowing that, however, shouldn’t negate exercising effort.
Just today, I told my cousin how I feel like a late bloomer in some ways. She said, “I don’t think you’re a late bloomer, you just have your own lessons to learn and you will. Be patient with yourself, you’ll get it in God’s time.”
I’m not who I was and at some point, I won’t be who I am now. The term “growing pains” is appropriate for so many phases in life, if not the sum of it. Growth–change–can hurt. Does hurt. But taking refuge in stagnation is no remedy.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been sitting back, watching and analyzing: myself, people, life. I’ve gained some insight and direction in the process. I spent some time walking around the city and in the burbs along Fox River thinking and seeing. Soon, but not quite yet, I’ll be ready to share more of those insights; I’m still processing. I encourage everyone to change scenery at some point for a bit–alone. Embrace your be-ing. Dissect your patterns. Explore your growth, or the lack thereof. Oh, and do something that just simply makes you happy.
I don’t write poetry often, but every once in a while I will. It feels a little unfinished and I might regret posting it a bit later, but I’m not a poet and such is life. The mythology of the phoenix has been on the forefront of my mind for a while now. More on that later. For now, think about this:
i set fire to myself
and bellowed sounds of agony
burned in degrees unmeasured
as the passersby passed by
bothered only by my position
surely this should be done out of sight
not when ripe
but convenient for the crowd
burnt skin curled up aginst itself
revealing my Ã¢â‚¬Å“iÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m like youÃ¢â‚¬Â-ness
but i burned publicly
those who saw thought it a display
art or gimmick
it was neither
i just stopped where i was to light the match