Is there an awake version of who I am now?
Can I flip a little switch and turn this melancholy-tinged moment
into a richer, more beautiful version of melancholy,
full of deep feeling, resonant with acceptance and peace?
How about my bored self, or my bubbly one,
or the confused person when he comes around?
Can I allow a ray of light inside
without evicting the current occupant,
without becoming the oppressor of myself,
at war with those parts ‘deemed unacceptable’?
If not, maybe the culprit is simply my conception of ‘awake.’
Maybe that needs to be opened up, liberated,
made infinitely flexible, so that I can feel from the inside
who I am now, then let it sink down
through the untold layers of my being.
Of course, there will be forgetting, and plenty of it.
But perhaps that’s how it has to be.
Perhaps no formula can substitute for doing the work
of both confronting and surrendering
to each moment of this one, irreplaceable life I’ve been given.