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Anonymity of Everyday Life
Who I am doesn’t matter. What I am
doesn’t matter. What I believe should be of no consequence to anyone but me
and my God. All that should matter is that I am here. I’m here surviving,
living, every single day in search of answers to bring some semblance of balance
to my life. I am you. You are me. We
are all reflections of the good and bad that live in all of our hearts. We are
all the same and the internal struggles we face everyday to find the best of
ourselves even when we don’t exhibit it to anyone is so attainably close that
just to think about it can make you change your mind.
That’s how fragile the dance we are all a part of everyday can be. So
many people. So many thoughts.
All giving birth at the same time and racing through the darkness of
anonymity and into the light of your brilliance. Even as an anonymous person
during the birth of your creative thought you have been touched, chosen by
something bigger than you could ever comprehend. You are no longer anonymous.
You are in the company of God.
No
one on this earth knows the heart of you. Yet, we claim to know our lovers,
family and friends and we operate under the illusion that we know what lives in
their hearts. It makes us feel safe in the knowledge that we’re not in this
world alone and at the end of the day that there is someone who knows you; that
there is someone who understands you when you don’t even understand yourself.
How can anyone truly know you if you don’t even know yourself? To truly
know yourself, the essence of all that you are, is to at once know what you’re
always capable of doing every single second of every single day. No one has that
knowledge. So no one can truly speak to the content of your heart and mind
except for the one who created you in his likeness.
We see fragments of each other, bits and pieces of the soul but never the
naked truth; we see shadows of light momentarily giving us the illusion of
knowledge. All that is, is our need to belong, to be connected and not be alone
in this world. We call that loneliness’ dark shadow. Loneliness can be
fleeting and the antidote to its dark power is a friendship with yourself and
oneness of knowing what makes you special and beautiful.
The secret truth is that we are all in
pain and in need of God. Beneath the
smiles and facades we show the world everyday lives a breathing, functioning
entity seeping slowly into our bloodstreams, and when given free reign it will
destroy all that is beautiful. The
Kryptonite to pain and the only known cure to stop the infestation to your
heartmindspiritsoul is love. Yes, love. My favorite Psalm is Corinthians 13 and
it sums up what love should be better than anything I’ve ever read.
Love is patient, love is kind. It
does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it
keeps no records of wrongs. Love
does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes and always perseveres.
These are the principles I seek to follow every time I have fallen in
love. I haven’t always been successful, but the pursuit of this ideal I’ve
never wavered from or sought to compromise.
On the other side of this ideal view of love lives another truth that has
to be examined.
We live under the grandest illusion
that love, finding the love of your life will somehow make you whole, complete.
I too have fallen victim to this fairytale rose colored version of love
and once lived the life of one of its most ardent believers (this is not to say
that I don’t believe, but). Love in all its imagined and real beauty can only
take hold of our heartmindspiritsoul when you allow yourself to find peace.
To place love in a garden of thorns, a mind and heart infested with moral
decay will stunt her growth. She
will struggle to find that breath which will infuse her with life and allow her
to bloom eternally. Just as a
bird needs the wind to fly, just as a life can’t be lived without experiences
or a thought being incomplete without a period.
Love can’t feel at home, comfortable in a heart full of turmoil.
She will look elsewhere until she finds a soft place to land.
A heart to call home.
It’s my sincerest hope that something I’ve written on www.deanthepoet.com
affects my readers in a way that long after they’ve left my sanctuary world of
poetry and fiction that my thoughts find them, and resonate with them during the
course of the day. I can’t
count how many times a passage I’ve read in a book has made me search to my
deeper self for answers, and every time I’ve reread that passage it carries me
to another journey. Three books that immediately come to mind are Catcher in the
Dean
Jéan-Pierre
Flawed
Human Being