I Wish I Could Tell You
I wish I could tell you that I just finished two years of Tai Chi training, and that my body and my mind have slowed to a smooth and gentle crawl, opening a wellspring of peace and insight within me.
I wish I could tell you that I have worn a smooth spot in the shape of my prostrate body on the floor in front of the altar, and that the desperate panting of my soul has slowed to a serene, rhythmic beating.
I wish I could tell you that selfless acts of service have carved a circle into my life, where joy is born of goodness, and goodness is born of work, and work is born of desire, and desire is born of joy. And I wish I could tell you that the circle of my life was bearing the fruit of peace both inside and outside of me.
In short, I wish I could tell you that my sword has been hammered into a ploughshare and that I have put aside my need to be at war with myself.
Instead, I must tell you that in spite of dabbling in various disciplines and gaining the occasional glimpse of serenity, more often than not my life is like a frantic dance, begotten of obsession and driven by guilt, fear, and a lust for production.
For better or for worse, the Ultimate Reality behind the universe is letting me run with this line, spool screaming, until I reach the jarring snap at the end.
The good news is that I am getting a few worthy things done, and that should count for something in anyone’s ledger. It is also good news that the lessons of life can be learned the hard way.
For reasons unknown to me at this time, I often learn things the hard way.
rlp
6:54:43 AM 
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