The Sculpting of Self

Conversations with the dark angel, and its path to freedom

How do we train ourselves into not wanting more ?
We are expectant of everything:
Our efforts
Our dreams
Our friendships.
Perhaps the issue is we see these things as "ours".
Therein our attachment.

We want to be attached to everything.
After all, isn't that how love works;
Tethering itself to things?

Yes, we are alive in our bindings,
Despite the "tut-tuts" from the Buddhists.

We, who are their inverse.
We want everything from everything, but everything never cedes ground.

Result:
This gentle, ubiquitous modern misery.

Do we want to belong?
Or to smother ourselves in needs?

We, who want victory without the race and to rise up without the shredded sinews.

I made a rite of passage:
To trash expectations.
To trade the global dream for the joy of tiny increment.
It re-knits the mind. 
To let go the longing and be alive in the wrestling of the grizzly.
Moment by moment.

Whatever it was I wanted to become:
I did not.

Arriving in the future,
There is no semblance of something once dreamed.
Maybe in echoes.

What I became is something else.
World-shaped.
It carves you out the stone.
Brutal flint on brittle sculpture.
Therein:
The darkened angel.
Fallen but free.

Never count the price of your knowledge.
It is paid for in fluctuating currencies.
Trade it for nothing.

This, right here, right now -
Is who you were meant to become.
And gate way to all you can be.

Celebrate that.
In doing so:
You arrive in life.