Un-blogger

The UNblog

I’m unblogging, unclogging, undoing

The constructs that hold, that contain, the claim, that entrain

To find Your voice.  Yours. Mine?  Beyond the sound itself.  Or maybe just the sound itself….

Is to unravel years, decades, lifetimes

Of conditioning

Not enough.  Too much.  More of this.  Less of that.  

Trainings that bind you.

Advice that derails you.

Systems of self understanding that undermine you.

Been there. Done that.  

Over and over and over and over again.  

I no longer care if I am mis-under-stood.  Making Sense is non sensical.  

Scratching through the surface, digging past the dirt, until I reach water. Fluid. Re-arranging.

My thoughts are often on a collison course with each other. 

Good. Let them collide.  

And from the wreckage let me find something else.  

A love note.  A shard. A sound.

It's sticky in the corners that limit movement through comparison and shoulds. 

I see you.  

Your intellect, your philosophy, your curiosity.  I am drawn to that.  But I am not that.

I see you.

Your plans, your logic, your organization. I am drawn to that.  But I am not that. 

I see you.

Your artistry, your beauty, your perfection. I am drawn to that. But I am not that.

Herein lies the rub.  In a house of mirrors, there is no reflection that is real.  

So to find the truth, and to be free from the illusion, you must close your eyes.  

Eyes closed.  Here I go. 

–J