Selfishness is leaving through the back door Love is pushing it out Compassion is pushing it out Joy for the happiness of others is pushing it out Equanimity in the face of longing is pushing it out.   I knew I should get rid of it – But I couldn’t. “I” wanted - I really wanted “I” desired “I” was willful “I” could have never done it on my own. I had to be deeply loved and to love. And suffer disappointment for the good of all beings.  Love trumped the “I”  What the Fuck says

Scrambling over boulders in the hot sun to reach you.  Sweaty fingers sliding off outcrops,  Old worn boots searching for a foothold.  You can’t reason someone into loving you.  With my idee fixe and your idee fixe - We’re in two bumper cars or we’re body slamming into a concrete wall.  Why are there so many obstacles to love?   The wheel of samsara tumbles on.  I want off this merry-go-round of suffering.   Breathing in, I’m here, my boots planted on the mountain. Breathing

Time exists between longing and getting - Waiting, waiting, waiting, restless waiting.  An opiate haze of euphoric recall of an imagined past or a deserved future.    Time, with its heavy boot, or elfin scurry, scrambles onward. Even so we carry them with us, these sacred longings.   The longing universe expands, a lover reaching for the beloved. We bend toward the light and open to catch the rain. But some lilies die of thrust in the field you know. You can’t make up your lo