junk detox

“We shape clay into a pot, but it is the emptiness inside which holds whatever we want” Lao Tzu

To the friend who sent me these words today, being in the same boat:
the first step to getting what you want is having the courage to get rid of what you don’t

You said it reminded you of some advice I’d given and I want to say I’m sorry.
About the advice I mean. It was a glib show;
dressed up in the satin-slippery glamour of poetic quotes
it got in the way of nakedly saying I don’t know.

For the state I’m in right now lends itself to purging
In between bouts of nausea I’m prowling madly through the house, making a mess
as I dig like a dangerous animal searching for prey
killing anything that doesn’t give me beauty, joy or usefulness.

All these corpses. It’s not just objects past their goodbye date I’m hunting down;
I’ve unhooked myself from every online magazine self-help program and blog
business or otherwise I’ve collected over the years
sick of their reproachful unread status cluttering up my inbox

I want surfaces. Space. Emptiness.
Sell up. Sweep out all the stuff inside my head I think I know
and start all over again. Beginner’s Mind.
It’s all marked down. Like those huge sales where everything must go.

Being empty I’ll have no more advice to give
nor can it come regurgitated from the mouth of social media, a thousand-fold said
I’m blocking those channels; trading aphorisms seems a poor exchange
when something risky, still unspoken, intoxicating could be said instead

So it’s quite uncanny you sent me what you did
for it’s only from this newly spacious mind that I can say
how much I like it that someone on the other side of night
thinks of me in the emerging light of day

Making me wonder
what I want to make all this space for

Friday Fictioneers – Taken Apart

Today I was in the mood for an inspiring challenge that was also fun.

And it arrived. Click here if you want to find out more about Friday Fictioneers and read all the other entries here. Briefly the challenge is to write a 100-word story inspired by a picture prompt. Here’s this Friday’s prompt and my story below:

Copyright: Sean Fallon http://theequiaticbind.com/

“Jesus Miles!” his wife laughed.  “You run just like a girl!” She and Sally exchanged amused glances.  Bruce grinned.

“Well done, old boy!”

Miles, breathless and puffing, felt himself go red.

Wordlessly, he handed his wife the soft pink scarf the wind had snatched from her neck.  Philippa had shrieked and Miles had immediately raced after it – rescuing it from the wind’s grasp, bringing it back to her like a prize.

She accepted it graciously. “Thank you my precious sweet! ”  she said solemnly and patted him, smiling at Bruce.

Everyone liked Philippa. You couldn’t fault her.  She was so disarming.