Still searching for the book
that has the answers…
I search in
ooks on self-love,
books on forgiveness,
books on leadership,
I read and I read and I read.
I keep searching
for that one piece of information
that will save me.
Then it occurs to me,
Maybe the book I need to read
is the one I need to write.
I have been searching and wondering and questioning.
I have been hoping and wishing and praying.
I have been dreaming and writing and visioning.
I have been singing and dancing and running.
And always, the object of the search eludes me.
I am exhausted, fighting battles with myself,
spurring myself on, telling myself to push through.
And then it occurs to me that I have it all wrong.
I’ve been headed in the wrong direction all along.
If I could just get still and silent and listen,
I’d see that the only direction I’ve left out
is the answer to every seeker’s agonizing request
to be shown their purpose and their path.
When every other option has fizzled out
and it seems like there’s no direction to turn,
After all of this questioning and soul-searching
I remember brother Rumi talking about
how the quest leads us away
from the object of the quest.
Have I been searching in the wrong places all along?
Or was I led to all of these places
only to force me to see that they were
always pointing me back home?
I’d like to know how surrender works,
Show me, Essence of Life,
how to flow with the present moment
in gratitude and peace.
I keep misplacing things
and spending my time looking for them.
I look in deeper, beyond the things.
What have I misplaced in myself?
What am I searching for within myself?
Will there come a time
when things can come and go
and I will be just as serene without them
as I am with them?
Can I find myself and know myself well enough
that I am complete
with or without the things?
It’s a story as old as time.
Let me be one of the blessed few
who can be happy no matter what.
I have this question bouncing around in my mind.
It has something to do with responsibility,
evolution, speciation, becoming, belonging.
It isn’t fully formed.
It’s just the feeling of a question.
I’m not looking for an answer.
I just want to ask the question.
I want to know what it is,
find the words,
and just ask.
I think I’ve found the answer
but then I’m left with more questions,
Depending on my mind state,
this is good news or terrible.
Questions are open doors
leading to new worlds,
and I do love exploring—
I just want to feel safe.
I just want to be held
in a safe little world
How then to make peace
with the questions
and love them
like treasure chests
as we crack them open
to reveal the jewels inside?
How to use this currency
to travel to faraway places
and expand even more?
One thing is for sure:
I’m learning every day
that I’ll never be done learning.
I keep asking myself
What am I holding onto,
and what am I willing to let go of?
The answers don’t arrive
in neat little packages;
they feel more like waves,
and they come as urges,
sensations, intuitive bursts.
When I get still and quiet,
when I listen to what’s being said,
when I feel my way fully
into the experience of this moment
all the signs
point the way
to something deeper.
It sinks in finally:
What I’m seeking
is beyond words.
What I wish to grasp
cannot be seized in my hands.
What I want to understand
exists beyond understanding.
I recognize I know nothing.