13throwcenter
02-26-2001, 11:28 AM
I've been spending a lot of time thinking lately, thinking about myself, the people I know, just people in general... thinking about relationships, thinking about the history of family shit we are born into. I was thinking... man, it's a wonder we are able to function at all given the level of dysfunction that abounds in families and relationships. I've always thought that half of finding the right mate is finding someone whose baggage is compatible with your own, because we all have our bags that we bring along with us wherever we go... we don't dare let go of any of that shit... we tote it along with us so proudly. No way, that shit is OUR shit and by god, it's coming with me til the day I die, even if it kills me. I once described to someone this image I have of we people and our attachment to our shit and it went something like this…
It feels like I am walking a tight rope, a very heavy, cumbersome bag in either hand...I'm wobbling back and forth on this thin line, trying not to fall...desperately holding onto my baggage, not wanting to let go and fearing that I might. I look down, and far below me is a pit of mire, I look ahead and in front of me is a platform with a rope ladder that will lead me to this "better place"... as I look at the ladder I'm realizing, there is NO way I'm going to be able to climb that sucker with all this shit weighing me down, if I even make it to the ladder at all.... and even though I can see beautiful colors and hear wonderful sounds coming from the place above the ladder, I'm holding onto my shit for dear life, because it's MY SHIT, god dammit.... and the reluctance to let go of the shit makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, yet the urge to hold onto it is almost overbearing... even if I WANT to drop the shit down there into that pit of mire and be free of it, it seems I can't because I just don't know how; somehow, I just can’t pry my hands free of those bags, no matter what the incentive is…. Even if it is a life of relative happiness versus a life spent drowning in shit.
Why do we do this to ourselves? It’s counterintuitive, isn’t it? It doesn’t make sense. "Seems that needlessly it's getting harder"... It should be easy, don't you think? It should be easier than it is, I know that. Why do we make it so much harder than it has to be to be happy? Why is it that we just can’t seem to let go of the shit and rise above the mire?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
What if the Hokey-Pokey *is* what it's all about?
It feels like I am walking a tight rope, a very heavy, cumbersome bag in either hand...I'm wobbling back and forth on this thin line, trying not to fall...desperately holding onto my baggage, not wanting to let go and fearing that I might. I look down, and far below me is a pit of mire, I look ahead and in front of me is a platform with a rope ladder that will lead me to this "better place"... as I look at the ladder I'm realizing, there is NO way I'm going to be able to climb that sucker with all this shit weighing me down, if I even make it to the ladder at all.... and even though I can see beautiful colors and hear wonderful sounds coming from the place above the ladder, I'm holding onto my shit for dear life, because it's MY SHIT, god dammit.... and the reluctance to let go of the shit makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, yet the urge to hold onto it is almost overbearing... even if I WANT to drop the shit down there into that pit of mire and be free of it, it seems I can't because I just don't know how; somehow, I just can’t pry my hands free of those bags, no matter what the incentive is…. Even if it is a life of relative happiness versus a life spent drowning in shit.
Why do we do this to ourselves? It’s counterintuitive, isn’t it? It doesn’t make sense. "Seems that needlessly it's getting harder"... It should be easy, don't you think? It should be easier than it is, I know that. Why do we make it so much harder than it has to be to be happy? Why is it that we just can’t seem to let go of the shit and rise above the mire?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
What if the Hokey-Pokey *is* what it's all about?