Clay and Light

This is a poem I come back often. I think I will spend the rest of my life thinking about it.

Bismillah

It’s a habit of yours to walk slowly.
You hold a grudge for years.
With such heaviness, how can you be modest?
With such attachments, do you expect to arrive anywhere?

Be wide as the air to learn a secret.
Right now you’re equal portions clay
and water, thick mud.

Abraham learned how the sun and moon and the stars all set.
He said, No longer will I try to assign partners for God.

You are so weak. Give up to grace.
The ocean takes care of each wave
till it gets to shore.
You need more help than you know.
You’re trying to live your life in open scaffolding.
Say Bismillah, In the name of God,
as the priest does with a knife when he offers an animal.
Bismillah your old self
to find your real name.

I feel that I exist in one of two modes — Clay and Light.

In Clay, I am driven by desire. I am hungry and I want food. I am lonely and I want company. I am tired and I want sleep. I want revenue and so I talk to customers.

In Light, what I do doesn’t seem to make sense. I might walk for hours. I might sit in the darkness. I might call my mom and tell her I love her. I might code something purely for the joy of seeing it come alive. I might spend the weekend alone writing.

In Light I am driven by a euphoria that I find hard to duplicate.

I think of this often as my Lower and Higher Self. My lower self is not evil. But its fruits are not as nourishing, its just that its demands feel so urgent.

I am used to negotiating with my lower self: if we go to the gym, then we will feel better throughout the day, we will have more energy and we will be hotter and people will like us more.

But that’s all that is- negotiation. It is walking slowly. It is learning to carry the heaviness.

With such attachments, do you expect to arrive anywhere?

The higher self doesn’t negotiate, it just exists. It’s waiting to be heard. It is so quiet, but its fruits are so tender.

I just have to give up to grace.