Photo by Crazy Cake on Unsplash
I am not who everyone thinks I am
Or I like to believe that
Predictability is boring
I like a little surprise sometimes
What’s difficult is that I run out of steam
Trying to be not what everyone thinks
You are zen
No, I am hardly
You are nice
No, I am a b***h
You are confident
No, I am so scared
And I also run out of steam
Trying to be what everyone wants
Loving, kind and generous
Cheerful, approachable and present
I want to gag
I am not any of these at all
Somewhere deep within
knows none of these defines me
I am not trying to be modest or humble
It’s the genuine truth
A truth trying to reach me
But I can’t yet steadily grasp
The truth is I am not anything you think at all
Neither am I anything I think I am at all
If I am constantly changing
according to some reference point given by others
How am I ‘somebody’?
How is there an ‘I’?
The depth of this awareness is boundless
I can’t put it in words
I rest in my frustration
Knowing that is my mind trying too hard
To have a who to attach to
To have a who to show
So what do you hide from the world?
Thinking no one should see the real you.
Tantrums, jealousy, vulnerabilities, weaknesses?
What if you are protecting nobody at all?
Or what do you strive to show the world?
Thinking no one should see the real you.
Denying the full human experience
Missing the point of it all
Be outrageous, audacious and fearless
Be scared, desperate and childish
Neither good nor bad they are
A branch of the river that joins the whole
You can be anything and anyone
When one feels this in their core –
There is no I
There is no self
The self —
empty
Hence life —
wonderfully full
