Breakthrough: Mindful Discovery

To do, to do:
Making macaroni and cheese stew.
The colours are so lovely,
The cheese so creamy,
Mindfully eating this should be easy,
But I still rush, rush, busy, busy.

What is my big hurry?
If I slow down, what’s the worry?
For what am I tearing from?
First to last spoonful?

Where am I attempting to get,
Or get away from?
Am I trying to win a bet?
Or, is this just habit?
To grab and run,
To stuff my mouth and fumble around,
Eating at my desk,
Always reaching for the next task.

It seems so foolish
But I can’t seem to
Stop doing this.
Perhaps today I will cease
Speeding like a thief being
Chased by the police.

Otherwise I don’t see how
I will enjoy any peace;
If I keep on racing to the finish
Only to start in on another dish,
Or another job or chore;

That is, unless
I learn how to find
Some stillness in the chaos.
Then maybe I will rest.
But until then I will just
Have to do my best.

Breakout: Is-ing

Every moment is already ‘like this.’
There’s nothing to pursue,
Not even happiness.

I always find my way
Whether I am mindful or not,
Even when I’m sleeping.

Although I fall into dark waters
I always save myself,
Though not necessarily
As soon as I’d like it!

I think up great lines
And then forget them
Before I write them.
As soon as I try to
Set down the words
I lose them, perhaps because
Writing is not the point,
Doing is;
Thinking is not the purpose,
Being is.

Action is paramount
But Non-action is essential too.
Seeing what is
Is just what it is;
There’s no need to think about it;
Effort only makes reality
More difficult to perceive.

I’m getting all storied out,
Telling tales
And figuring,
When I should be
Putting the past behind me
And living.

Breaker: Deep Waters

Doubt, doubt, doubt:
I can’t seem to get out.
I’ve tried going in
With insight;
I’ve tried going through
With metta,
But it seems to me
That I just can’t win.

Is it the practice?
Or, is it me?
Or, is it monkey mind,
That’s got me out of my tree?

I don’t know really,
And I feel so stuck
Am I just depressed,
Or genuinely out of luck?

It’s so dark in here
When I get so blind;
I can’t look forward,
I can only look behind.

The view from here
Is mighty bleak;
I’m afraid to look around
Fearing I might freak.

But what will happen
If I just take a peak?
What will I find, I wonder?
I quiver and squeak.

But I must keep looking
If I want to see,
The end of this black mood;
And then, perhaps I will break free.