Pacienca

When you ask God for patience
God gives you the gift of waiting
And the waiting

Goes against our erroneous notion
That time is ours
A possession of sorts that escapes us with effervescent fervor

I lie to myself thinking
I can place the idea back in a thought box
Like clouds that go on
We see that trying is losing

And we are constantly losing

To have patience is actually impossible
You cannot have an idea
The idea comes to you and has you
And can go away on her own accord

Ideas are fickle, because they originate from a void
We are part of that same void
Endlessly searching for a further expanse
Looking for form and finding chaos as a much more likely substitute

No, patience isn't something that grips you
It does the opposite
It passes you by
And you see that what is not given for you to see

The challenge that presents itself
As a test of sorts
An exercise of the will to give up your most precious of commodities
Time and your sense of self

If you are able to deconstruct time
Into its original purpose
It simply becomes an instrument to let us know our direction
Before time, we were a blank canvas, willing to brush wherever the pain(t) stroked

And even more so,
Stillness and remembrance enters the dancefloor
And offers a chance to let go of who you think you are
You are not your thoughts

You are not your emotions
You are not this body
You are not this situation that which illicits an emotional response
Neti-Neti again and again

And then you will see the illusion before you
That deep and formidable mystery
The liberating way of being on the path
And it is there the seeking will have been found

The colors of sound and the stillness of vision
Continues on in an ever expanding method
Into the mind full of empty thoughts that is
Reaching a possession of sorts with effervescent fervor

This is the gift of pacienca