Change

Setting yourself free of yourself (or some part of yourself) and changing, usually occurs through the potent remedy that is to become tired of the ways that pile like lose coins upon the chest. Once they brought wealth, but now, having served their purpose, they become dead weight. These metallic ways and royal nothings are collected by one’s own hand, or the hand of external affirmation. Heavier and heavier we grow until we do away with some, or all, of what has become familiar, but seems to be prohibiting the deep longing for us to rise; the longing to be something more.

Ripping away from the tethers of our old self usually happens slowly in the cycles of forgiveness, joy; shame, fear anger, and forgiveness again. It is only in surmounting the truth that who one is no longer deserves to carry such weight - that finally - a tired and rotting rope can be cut away with the humblest and most unassuming pocket-knife; enough to let the old boat, aye - the old clanking elements of the self - sink with previously treasured symbols of success - truly unwanted.

What a relief it is, to bid farewell to the shell of the being that can no longer, with its old thoughts and way - carry the expanding spirit of the one that is brave enough to change.

To keep the mouth speaking; and the body acting in appeasement for the old way, is ultimately, not to change at all. And so, we leave behind the expectations of our caterpillar self to find a new way. And so we also leave behind the ones who wish to remain caterpillars, for now. Who knows, maybe we will soar together one day. But it is true, there in change lies grief.

Many trees who seek to love you at their height, do so block the sunlight. Lest we cut the poppy to keep us all in the same era of normality. And what is normal? The changing version of the soul knows there is no answer.

Perhaps most of all, it is the clouds who truly understand change. To expand into the fullness of the rainfall, the condensed version of yourself; the full version of yourself, you must indeed become so heavy in fullness; that to remain in the same way; in the same place - would be seemingly impossible.

And so we gather ourselves unto ourselves, trusting everything that is ‘us’, with the courage to feel the wild internal magnitude of ourselves, that we might surrender to it. And fall. 
Ah, to fall in surrender to a new version of the self. Timeless and unafraid. Bliss and grief, with no relinquishing bravery. You are changing. Please know it is safe to change, brave soul.

Might we be so blessed in our transition, in our changing. That in our complete choosing of our self, we open our eyes and see around us the glittering droplets of familiar friends, of family; hearts who love us in every cycle - not as a vapour nor a solid, but as a soul. "Be free". We say to each other, and the acceptance creates a rainbow.

"Be free” we muse as we spiral in unique directions - and without planning to; we are journeying together. Not bound. But indeed, completely connected by soul-love and synchronistic grace in the realisation, we will never stop changing.

Passenger

Truth first came gently on a cold school night 

And said, “all that’s living will die. To know yourself, first know I.”

For a bit I thought of death and cried

And then stopped quickly. Abruptly.  And said,

“Go away, I’m fine”

And shut my heart so truth couldn’t come back 

And put stories of myself in an old backpack

And walked out in the stars to that place trains would chug 

And pushed down pain

With a confident stare, 

A shrug 

And clambered on the carriage

And raced out fast into the night 

And celebrated in vain: I was a passenger to life

Years passed; the bag stayed close and grew,

Outside was passing in a whirr while we laughed and drank spirits 

Where we didn’t know our own

And bonds with money and people

began to feel like home

Life grew louder as we filled it right up

And only left space for the things 

that we called grown up

And we were nice mostly, because it seemed like the 

right thing to do

But when vulnerability came close

We would laugh, “Fuck you”

God came back in a moment of quiet and asked,

 “are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I said. And no tears came.

And denial carried on.

I kept telling myself then, 

“You belong, you belong”

And people I thought were permanent left. 

And when my health was bad, I shouted – “theft”. 

My heart broke too, but I stayed somehow windswept 

And filled a void with new glitter 

Though I cried to one I loved, who lied,

And heard an echo with no reply

And in the quiet, god said

 “you won’t find forever on this ride”

And I said, 

“Go away, I’m fine”

Life moved. I kept my eyes off truth 

And the ground became noisier

The carriage became busier 

And my thoughts became louder, 

and someone died

Sitting right beside me. Mid sentence.

Right at the comma,

where you were supposed to take a breath

And people near me 

Who I called dear to me 

All seemed to subside 

Just a bag of bullshit stories at my side...

And god said, 

“Do you want to know me yet?”

I said, “I’m fine”

but I began to lose my mind. 

I held; tried to cling

To every fading worldly thing 

Like confetti – 

You can’t build a home on confetti. 

And finally, at the final straw 

I had everything I could have wanted in the world –

But loss kept coming,

and the train tracks kept drumming,

I cried, “Get me off this goddamn ride”

And god came back and stopped the train

I clambered out then in the pouring rain, 

And truth spoke,

“Leave the bag behind. 

All you are is not your mind 

Come with nothing and follow me

And we walked

And at that slow, slow pace.

I could suddenly see

The cosmos I had never touched

and the star grass I had never brushed 

I saw the moon again and it saw me

And I knew none of them would stay 

Neither would night when came the day

But I was here

And death seemed close and far 

And it was beautiful and intimate:

That we were nothing but an inch apart 

Truth held me in a big, big wave

As I opened then my hollow cave 

And let god pour right through my ribs

Between my lungs, right to my hips and

My feet felt the ground that seemed now strong 

And god said, “you know me”

I said, “I do”

“I am nothing but a piece of you”

Poem from, "From Dust" (book launching soon) Artwork by local Zimbabwean Artist, Phineas Chisango