Confusion stems from the assumption
that each of us is a unit
and no more
and no less.
We are, however,
both more and less.
Each of us is both
in macro and micro contexts
multitudinous and fractional.
A kingdom of subjects to administer
through an agile, learning mind
and also but a cell in the larger organism.
A twig in the tree,
a tool of the work,
so vast we hardly grasp.
A stone of the ground
a wave in the sea
a unit of life.
Oblivious to the hierarchy within,
human states words such as:
"I am good", "I am bad", "I am to blame", "It is my gift", "I am capable", "I am better than you", "You are to blame", "You did wrong", "I say truth", "I want this", "I deserve this", "I must have this", "I must do this", "I need that", "I failed", "I win", "I succeed", "I am responsible",
and he uses them referring to self as an indivisible unit, not knowing these statements are but statistical aggregates of his system as a whole.
Failing to consider oneself as a multitude of parts, is conducive to not knowing how to process the signals one receives in life. Signals of pain, of fear, of relief, of disappointment, of anger, of joy, of sensations and ideas.
Just as pain in a part of the physical body may indicate a cry for help from that particular part of self,
so does emotional pain often manifest a signal from a specific piece of self, asking to be tended to.
But lack of knowledge about the systemic nature of our being often disallows us from understanding that the signal is preciser
than a generic signal of "blame" or "shame" or "anger" or "gladness" upon our whole system.
That it applies to specific pieces of our psyche, often minute,
which can be tended to and processed with proper attention and care.
Lacking this knowledge, human tends to disseminate and blur the signal onto his entire self,
producing overarching and fallacious conceptions about self, such as
"I am good. I am bad. I am to blame. I deserve reward. I am to praise. I did it wrong. I did it right",
statements which, though holding some valid meaning in the context between human units,
are woefully inadequate when tending to and caring for self,
in the quiet depths of self,
where one can narrow into signals precisely and see and hear oneself deeper
than what one once thought was there.
Thus each of us is a kingdom
composed of many lesser.
Likewise, when human believes that
his self is but his skin,
his flesh, his clothes, his losses and wins,
his debts, his riches, and his failures,
the steps he, with others or by himself trails,
only the part no one else claims,
only the permissions others have conceded,
only the approval others have given him,
only the health his body boasts,
only the thoughts his own mind dwells on,
only his own pains, fears, and joys,
only the knowledge that he has grasped,
he bottles himself
in a transparent jar shaped by
his own separated frontiers.
He keeps his identity contained
small
starved when it desires growth
by this invisible bottle
human wreathes around himself.
And in this scarcity of identity
Believing oneself to be anything other than
the entirety of existence,
human fears and hardens and hoards
As the separated self wills to survive
As the unit claims his space
Within the limitless whole
Yet our lungs and bodies exchange atoms
that we gather from the earth.
We trade moneys, words, ideas,
pains and fears, joys and triumphs.
We share paths and we share projects,
we share structures dense and not.
We agree, gather, clash, or fight us,
like drops in rapids, rain, or storms,
or in lava lamps, coloured blobs.
Sometimes one's own little actions
are dismissed as done in vain,
disconnected from a something
that would justify their gain.
Why continue on this pathway
that will surely lead to death?
Why pour effort into actions
if there is nothing that remains?
Should I just follow the carrots
and but learn to avoid the stick?
Am I but a human donkey
led and driven by cosmic whim?
These questions seek that something
of which we are a part.
They grasp out for the threads around us
that would make our life worthwhile.
For in a world interwoven
betwixt units, groups, and efforts,
our pains and triumphs echo
in the vastness of this web.
The mind that has once sensed this web
believes no more dead ends,
for then every step leaves its track,
and every whisper its voice.
These threads between, are oft not known.
Ignored, neglected, or even scorned,
for selfishness is still afoot,
and it can hurt when what we offer is not taken
when we what seek is not found
in those others, ignorant or unwilling
to admit that they are too but drops.
That all those pains and joys are not just their own,
that dear identity is illusion brief,
a fluid impermanence, a flowing stream.
No core human particle,
no true atomic self.
Only waves and patterns
gathered, reflected, and released.
Cognizing one's own identity stream
requires realizing the truth of the unseen.
Admitting it truly can bring pain and fear
for it requires letting go of what we held dear.
The grasp of survival, the imperative to last,
deep-carried by body for aeons long past.
But once we have learned these skills of a self,
with which we can live, move, decide, and thrive,
we can again remember the web that we are,
the One Being that strives to coordinate its own parts.
The Life that peers outward through all of our eyes,
the Breath that inspires our rhythms and rhymes.
And once we remember how vast we are indeed,
Purpose stands clear, and Meaning is redeemed.
Our fears then trickle out of us, and wash with the wind,
our pains, we understand them, and are tended within.
Our prides turn to trinkets in the arena of the whole,
and we are left with the wonder and work of our Own
Design.
