Living with a Dead Body

thoughts on old patterns

This morning I thought this -
finding myself in old patterns
is like coming across a dead body.
I want to run from it, block it out it or bury it.
It smells, I’m tired of looking at it.

But also
somewhere inside me
I must think
it serves me.
(After all,
here it still is.)
It’s almost as if I push hard enough
in just the right way
with just the right force
at just the right time
in just the right place….
the dead body
and everything it stands for
will make me so powerful
I will finally be able to have it all!
Exactly what I want and deserve!

Then I kind of decide
No. That won’t work.
So I drag the dead body out of the house.

But, it’s not that easy
because
I turn back around and there it is!
right where it had been.

Today, instead
I ask this:
why is there a dead body
in my space?

If I allow the stench and the ugly
If don’t try and outwit it
become it
or throw it out
If I don’t let it chase me around
like a zombie
If I simply
dive right into it
with an uncontrolled mind
and ask of myself this:

What did I learn along the way
that made me think
my life somehow
depends on this thing.