And I sip from it . . .

a deeper sense of being

I wanted to do what I was good at.

That’s the contract

I was deductively lead towards.

So I put out for it.

It was better then

what was happening without it.

I needed to feel good from others.

I wanted that success to appear natural.

I can’t help it that what I do is boring.

I don’t know what to do

about all the emptiness.

I try to be busy.

I want to care.

I mean I care

but I don’t communicate I care.

I don’t initiate from a soul place I guess.

I come from protection.

It’s a popular interaction style!

Some people are even aggressive

in their guardedness,

like they are trying to enroll others

towards a proof or justification

of their position.

It is a kind of a waste to me.

I mean I find boredom interesting,

in a way.

I try and get who is doing that for me.

Who gives me those frames of reference?

And that voice inside

has an expectation appetite for something.

Not sure what.

And it’s listless

and I have to hear all about it.

I go away.

I don’t really like it as distraction either.

Now that’s also popular with folks too!

Lots of people use distraction.

It’s like a collusion

that we somehow all agree to do,

but it’s also not,

because at any point in the collusion,

something spontaneously interesting

could break out and happen.

And then the collusion is off

and everything is real again.

Well, it’s all real

but it feels connected again

while we are doing it right then.

That connectedness is like

a constant form of permission,

some sort of unsaid agreement

but yes . . . a definite go.

So then everything is on

and people are friendly

and available to share,

not that it is fluid all the time

but surprisingly rich.

I feel rich inside then and so do others.

I like it

and I like that we share from there also,

a lot.

I don’t get why we do anything else,

but from there.

I mean it’s all a slippery business,

being separate but together.

Finding commonness

that was previously unrevealed

but maybe always was there.

It’s such a long search

for a kind of acceptance like shared.

It could become a lifestyle as an effort,

just to do the search

much less express oneself!

Once we’re there,

I don’t get why it is constructed like this.

Why do we have this as ritual?

Why it is agenda and directive?

How did we get so separate

as to pretend a world of differences

as so important?

Even care denotes a form of separation!

I guess I am not always up to this task.

I mean there are times I just don’t care.

I mean I care,

but I am not up to giving appearances

that I care

when actually caring is not appearances

but something else,

something else from inside,

something more quiet.

Something with feelings

that doesn’t run off into words,

that doesn’t stand up

and make a pledge

or make it into a pronouncement

for others to hear.

It just is there

and sometimes others are just there

and receive it

without some much clamor and salute.

I like it that way most of all.

It’s like a passion for something

but it is a secret passion

and it exudes

a quiet reverent shared passage

when it happens.

But it is no big production.

Nothing is excessive about it.

It streams along.

And I sip from it,

a deeper sense of being . . .