gratitude | Stepping Into The Canvas®

Death of the Father

Radical Acceptance Returns

Perceptually different are the varying thoughts of how it used to be. One-sided is the stories tale — giving a young lad everything they needed, being there for every turn as the car rolled off the highway.

A flip of the coin — tales are telling of another side. Absent was the one leaving a child alone with a flame and combustibles — swallowed temperament as volatile as the burning winds.

A flip of the coin — leaving knives as sharp as a sword — severing thumbs and tearing into the flesh of past chapters of broken wings. Then to comfort the wounded soul with fiery winds of burning words cutting through to silenced dreams — left alone was the young one, mastering the elements of Shangri-la.

Recounting the time — entering the skeleton-filled closet of forbidden truths — mastering the art of fabricated twisted stories. One after the other — lie to cover up the one before — just as the one taught. And it made him fucking proud.

Vomiting regurgitated thought — sharing to this page — as guilt and fear bring us back to broken arms. Not shocked — opening the Webster defining words — there at the center of the narcissism was a picture of the one.

Alone is the one — by his own doing — with greatest fear of coming to fruition. He remains alone — rotting in his flesh of misery — buried in his life of lies and sworn to take them to the grave.

Fleeing time — ticking clock — stubborn is the one wrapped in these words: “They’re dead to me.” Now, with two remaining, the one chases one of them out of the house of Ivan Illych — last breath emanant as the pain in Tolstoy’s chest greatens with heart-breaking thoughts of how it could have been.

The end is near — time will tell — uncertain are the children of the one who taught them how not to be — greater are they for learning how to be. Trapped forever — pain and suffering as the mystery of misery pools in a toxic wasteland.

One last flip of the coin , knowing it was a twisted tale , absent as it was. Merely a donor — a provider — doing his best as selfishly as one could. Yes, his heart was as big as the sun , hidden behind the ash of burning wildfires — started in the closets, hidden truths.

Radical Acceptance — all that remains.

~Ani Po

The One returns to the story — day after day — on a loop recorder, wishing for the torment to end — while my heart melts into Radical Acceptance of this person who doesn’t know how to be.

Sealing this wounded heart with tears flooding broken timelines — this chapter is closed — a flip of the coin.

Thank you Wry Welwood for sharing this prompt. Yes, it was something needing to come out. Much gratitude for Scrittura.

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

I Can See Clearly Now

The rain has gone

“I can see clearly now, the rain is gone.” Wait…it is actually raining at this moment. So, how does one see clearly amidst the rain?

Dealing with our own triggers of life, often referred to as shadow work, or trying to understand something at deeper levels, we peel back layers of understanding. Our reality is based on current beliefs and our clarity of life is or is not clouded by thoughts of our current belief system.

Sitting in the rain can be comforting or the opposing, depending on ones own attachment to what is good or bad per se. Wandering mind, leading to what we cannot do or lack of sun…fearing that we cannot survive in this very moment, we are left in a gloomy state of being.

Some might say the rain can effect ones own psyche, triggering moodiness or gloominess. Maybe this is true? Or maybe it is a reflection of ones own belief system? There is data that suggests that the weather can effect ones mood, while other data suggests it is merely a mirroring effect: what a person thinks or feels is what the experience may be.

Is there also a possibility of a collective consciousness happening? Meaning…a region attracts certain thoughts, while everyone is influenced by these thoughts. Every moment of the day is regulated by these collective thoughts. Even weather patterns can reflect these thoughts.

A thousand people meditating on Love or Peace, collectively changing the present moment of fear based thought process. Mastering ones own thoughts, collectively contributing to ‘The Field’ of consciousness, potentially altering or enhancing the collective whole.

What about a belief that another has? Whether religious, spiritual, political, everyday events. How can one be on the same page as another? Willingness or openness to accepting another path on this road of life. Many roads leading to similar destination, whether one sees this or not it is true. We are all heading in the same direction. But where does this path lead? That is another time and discussion.

For now…our understanding is what it is. Today, we sat pondering within the rain…only to have a foreign idea, from years past, come to understanding with deeper ‘knowing’ of things.

Our willingness to be present, allowing varying beliefs to surface, practicing non-attachment to ‘All’ things, accepting The Great Mystery of it all, we come to a place of deeper clarity…singing, “I can see clearly now, the rain is gone.”

Like a roller-coaster, up and down weathered extremes — frost returns, thawing realities existence with pouring rains during an unseasonable timing of thought.

Gloomy days enter realities mirrored reflections, introducing multiple universal thoughts given way to what may be. Short is the shadow of a doubt, entering bright shiny days — evacuating again with threats of frozen tundra’s grip.

Bundled up — warming by fireside chatter’s inner dialogue — we are holding sacred space. New beginnings promise — swiftly come — not soon enough, we hold onto springtime’s budding birth of another passing year.

~ Ani Po

Joseph Lieungh

Stepping Into The Canvas®

Living a Syncrosensational Life

Tag Archives: gratitude

Death of the Father

Death of the Father

Radical Acceptance Returns

I Can See Clearly Now the Rain Has Gone

I Can See Clearly Now

The rain has gone