Nothing Less Than Skin-Covered Hearts

For most, I love you means I need you, or feel I do, anyway. And it stops there.
It stops there.
It is made easy to say you love what you fear you might be in need of, if not today then perhaps later,
and yet, to truly love goes so much deeper



and has eventually shown all who try to love that love sours and turns to hatred
as one realizes he or she is dependent upon what cannot be kept fresh as a pickle in vinegar.



It is written that writers mislead. Look solely to what you are.
That is your answer to the question who am I? Which everybody needs...
And, why am I here? Where do I plant my seeds?



Why did you ever think you might find you inside a book? Only you can find you in all things; look within your own heart first and follow the music inside as a forsaken kid follows every attractive pied piper with a haunting tune for you are that forsaken kid. Nobody, and I mean nobody, trusts you.
Only you can do that for you. Make you sad?



I am not against books. I read. But, if it is a good book it has suggested I have my own skin- covered
ache to fulfill,
and,
being only human, after all, is more grand than being angel or saint ever can be. Those concocted images! You, on the other hand,
are re-al.

(Here, I will offer a truly valuable bit: any story you will ever hear concerning the work of a saint or angel or a goddess or a fairy or the like, will have been told to you by an ordinary mortal. Trace every one and it must lead to the same ol' unreliable source...one simple skin-covered heart of a human being. We lie to children because we fail to own our stories. Why do we fail to do that? Is that Hamlet's question after all?)

Socrates said: Know Thyself

A mommy and daddy sit by a fire with two babies; and under the fire's glow the family is at peace and mellow. All is well. Mommy stirs soup, daddy stokes the fire. Children coo and giggle. Watching from some higher level, one sees how the same or similar scenes in many places around the Earth correspond as families prepare for evening. Chores are done and family needs addressed. The family pets play and frolic. Peace abides. With or without modern appliances peace abides.
Seen from a still higher level, one notices in a suddenly ominous tone the connection between a family's security and preparations for war. What is that? From a higher level than that, something more becomes clear: one or more wars are already, actually, underway to protect such families. From what? Other families? In fact, some families are being attacked now and babies are being killed and wives raped as husbands lie dead, or dying, on the ground. On close examination one finds that it is young sons and daughters in uniform doing all this killing and torture and rape. One must wonder.
Is that sweet little family dream really the source of all such horror? And ask, Is there any way out of this awful pattern?
The way out is understanding. The way to understanding is inward. Know thyself.
The way to understand is to cease. Cease now all but what is real. A sentence may contain a morsel of truth while its mainstream lies. A seeker must look very closely to separate chaff from wheat, so to speak.



Those sweet families look sweet on the outside, but, as packaged lies, how do they really feel inside?



At this point, I see a chance to find out whether there is anything truly reliable since I need to rely so much? Once all illusion melts away, it is a real skin covered heart we are.
And, what is reliable ends up being me. I simply choose to live my story. My story.
And, what sounded selfish is known to be selfless. Funny, how selfishness is born of the concept of we. Also funny how once my true nature is accepted, as one individual, well, all the we concepts are tossed away as obsolete. Who needs 'em? One is the answer.

That is correct! I am and there is no center of my being. All senses alive! It is now only a question of readiness. This I express is a feeling you must have to know who you are and how glorious is one skin-covered heart, fully engaged!