Making up the Mind

I take this phrase one step inward. I pin this thought to top of mind where it broadcasts outward from.

In my morning rituals, I put on cosmetics – a dark line over & under the eyes (I know these cosmetics are unhealthy, but the feeling I have from thus improving my appearance counteracts the nasty stuff put into the eye pencils, IMHO.)

I sponge on a bit of color to the cheekbones. I always forget lipstick until I remember it just long enough to apply it, forget it & live with a tiny dot of color here & there.

I made up my mind to be this or that for my whole life. I put on the glowing mask of being “in love” for many years – tho now I joke my car loan lasted longer than any of my marriages. I put on “competency” & “superior intellectual skills”. Now I wear the knowledge of what is behind the scenes I see & how useless principles really are when not carried through. Decisions are less than fulfilling when they are not enacted. (Decisions are like crossroads, new directions & new town names are enticing until realized, when that attraction may change or wane – but aren’t we here to try on the new? To exchange ideas like colors? To watch the look reflecting in our own mirrors?)

I add a blush of feeling things will be better elsewhere, a kohl line of fulfillment I think I’ll find on arrival. A careful application of lip color is really an idea I enhance with, but do not follow on so at the end of the situation, I have a dot or two remaining, but the luster is faded away.

At night, I come home & wash my face, use a toner, add soothing lotion. One mask off, another on: the resting, un-made-up me, wrinkly and tired-eyed.

I am learning to love this honest face, this faced-the-facts face: collagen has collapsed from grapes to raisins. I see that the only time I’m really beautiful is when I smile, my face lights & lifts & only needs to wear that as I make up my world.

I see from several levels at once & I get unhappy with the need for politesse. I notice there is no unity at Unity. There is little enough carry-on of the principles we preach: about enough for a backpack but I need a cedar trunk. I edge my way around when I should march, brazenly forward with a blade in hand. No prisoner of negatives, I see now where emotion rises from & I no longer need to own whatever arises – I can sift thru the mix, pan for the gold flakes on that river.

So once again I find my soul has accelerated on, pulling ahead to test the path for what brings it satisfaction. Then it waits for the rest of me to reach the crossroads it has set up to see which way I’ll go, what decision I’ll make. A kind of chant or mudra rises from limbic brain panting, “Change! Change! Change!” If I don’t go willingly into that good morning, I’ll be doing so into that good night.

I am always in teaching mode but I’m the only learner present.