The Way of All Flesh

There is a path that all flesh must take
We’ve always known this from the start
It’s the very awareness of this fact
That reveals the nature of our heart

For the spirit of immortality
Wrestles with the ways of form
Tempting us with corporeality
As if it were the norm

There are hearts that surrender to this way
As long as we are here
While other hearts struggle with time itself
Certain that eternity is near

The struggling heart will not surrender
It crams eternity into space
Living life with all it has
And in its wake leaves waves of grace

It knows the way that flesh must go
But it and flesh are not the same
And on that day when the two must part
It receives that which is its to gain

© Copyright 2016 Pedro S. Silva II

bruce-2The poem above was written by request for the Rev. Bruce MacKenzie Pastor Emeritus of the church I serve in Boulder, CO. “The way of all flesh” was a saying Bruce loved to say when referring to anything that is temporary in this world. At one visit I had with him before his passing he said to me,  “Soon I will be going the way of all flesh, but you and I know that is nothing to be concerned with. So no tears.” I said to him, “Well we teach that Jesus wept when Lazarus died and he was just about to resurrect him, so I cry when you leave.” He laughed at that and changed the subject.  Bruce’s body might have gone the way of all flesh. But though the outer man is beyond our seeing, the inner man remains eternally abiding.

Twisted

People,

In the wake of all that is going on with the violence, fear, hurt, and anger in this world, I challenge all of us who are seeking to transcend status quo to read this poem and take it into your heart. If you get something out of it share it. It’s autobiographical, but in the end, it isn’t about me. It’s about taking responsibility for the world that we are all creating. It’s time to wake up or die in our sleep.

The Love,

Pedro S. Silva II

Twisted
Open up your ears and hear
The story that I’m telling you
When I was a little kid
I used to get dissed on the regular

I used to get picked on
Poked at and made fun of
Because I was a sensitive cat
Always talking about One Love

Other kids my age
Had multiple distractions
Where as I was more focused on
Putting words into action

So when I took it to the streets
I didn’t expect to get straight dissed
‘Cause my shoes had too many stripes for Adidas
But not enough for K-Swiss

My words were for nothing
I only evoked laughter
I tried to get them focused off my clothes
But it just didn’t matter

They called me church boy
They said I talked “white”
But they were living cartoon
While I was living real life

I wanted to show love
But all they knew was hating
Perpetually playing themselves
Because they were mentally masturbating

They believed the lie
It had been passed down from their mama
Generations infected by an attempt
To keep the black man in drama

So I took it to the adults
I thought they would understand
But they were too “whitewashed”
To see this burgeoning black man

So I took it to my history teacher
Then he said this to my face
“You’re a smart boy
And a credit to your race”

He thought it was a compliment
Only a white man could say that
If he understood anything about me
He’d have known I wouldn’t play that

But I knew he had good intentions
I could tell he didn’t know
He was caught up like everyone else
So I decided to let it go

I then took it to my Grandma
But what she said left me unsettled
She told me tell white people I was Portuguese
So that they would treat me better

What the hell was that?
Was this some conspiracy?
Everyone and their mama working together
To try to instill fear in me

They saw something I thought was impossible
While I saw something else
They were choosing to believe a lie
But I chose to believe in myself

I knew that God had made me
And I know He only makes the best
So I knew the fact that I was not white
In no way made me less

Someone had gotten it twisted
And I was going to find out who
There was no way I was letting these scared victims of society
Tell me what to do

So at first I examined the white man
Since everyone thought he was so smart
I discovered so many despicable deeds
It was as if he had no heart

Then I checked out the black man
I figured they were more like me
But I got pissed to find out some of them helped
When we were sold into slavery

My mind became consumed with anger
I had to let it out
So I decided to tell every black and white
What I was all about

Well both sides called me a racist
In that they agreed with each other
Whites said I was an uppity nigger
And blacks called me siddity brother

So I then turned to God
Well turned on Him is more accurate
Because I didn’t like the way He made this world
I told Him I wasn’t having it

I said “You better do something
Before I fix this world myself
If You are the One responsible for this
I might as well pray to someone else”

He responded, “While you’re sitting here pointing fingers
How about looking in the mirror
I am the One that made all you see
Call nothing I made inferior

Who are you to judge?
Are you the scale by which all things are measured?
Are all things imperfect as compared to you?
Did you put this world together?

There’s a point to all of this
Just listen to what I’m saying
Perhaps I created this entire world
Just to have you right here praying

In Me anything is possible
To all those who believe
This world is as beautiful or ugly as you see it
It depends on what you choose to perceive

I made this world out of perfection
But in your Ego you thought you could fix it
This world will change when you change your mind
You are the one that got it twisted

© Copyright 2004 Pedro S. Silva II

 

 

Nothing Is What It Seems

Nothing is what it seems

There’s always something underneath

Hidden worlds in every event

Taking action to be released

All you might see is what’s in front of you

Meanwhile a mystery unfolds

While you’re focusing on the “important things”

Secret stories are being told

Like the alarm that you just slept through

That will you make late to that early meeting

You will experience as an inconvenience

When in truth it’s an Angel’s greeting

Or that relationship that ended

That you thought would be forever

May be causing you a lot of pain right now

But it would be worse if you stayed together

Or what about that job of yours

That leaves you daily stressing

You think it’s about how much you’re paid

When it’s about how much you’re blessing

Your child who will not listen

That one who never stops debating

May be getting on your very last nerve

But you don’t know what they’re cultivating

This is what I remind myself

When things don’t seem to go my way

That God is shaping something in my soul

That is not always on display

And this isn’t true for only me

But for everyone around me

Even the people I consider not so nice

May have souls that would astound me

That’s why Abba tells me not to judge

My sisters and my brothers

Because we might see what our bodies do

But most times we can’t see each other

Of course you may not like this line of thought

I’m not suggesting that you should

All I want to do is encourage you

Because there is underlying good

It may be difficult to fathom

Especially when looking at the past

But even if everything went your way

It still was never meant to last

This world is like an incubator

That’s meant to help us build our strength

Not a place for us to make a home

Or seek to stay beyond its length

And everything that happens here

Is always more than it appears

Because we’re learning how to better choose

Between what’s from joy and what’s from fears

We’re being prepared for our true nature

That was not meant to stay in time

We are practicing being human

So we can handle what is Divine

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

Life Without Hunger

My body has just revealed the news

I’m not the only one who’s ever me

Others will walk in these tattered shoes

And see what I can see

Perhaps you’ll be attending

The event we call this person

And I’ll attend from the other side

Our situations now reversing

You will see I cannot be lonely

So far this has kept me away from you

Since the fear you have of abandonment

Has been guiding what you do

I also cannot be thirsty

And this will change the way you think

When realizing all that’s been cut too short

Every time you pause to take a drink

Plus you’ve been taught you die from hunger

It’s just their ploy to keep you filled

What I’ve found is that by running on empty,

The truth of who we are cannot be killed

At first this thought is frightening

But you cannot figure why

I say it’s because to you death is release

You have parts you want to die

Now you feel that death’s deceiving

You’re still you after it’s all over

Death’s not the escape you thought it was

You still have yourself to shoulder

It’s the cross you have to bear

Until you accept what we’re trying to tell you

Be an empty vessel or lose yourself

The very lesson of the deluge

In the midst of being nothing

You get the chance to see it all

Becoming everyone who ever was

Until you never had to fall

Then we’re standing face to face

You know the secret that can’t be told

Minus hunger we all are One

Emptied fullness reveals the soul

It’s the Life that has no hunger

Desiring nothing you are complete

Every step you take is a victory

No more suffering of defeat

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

The Mirror In the Man

I talked to the Man in the Mirror

Who led me to the Mirror in the Man

The thoughts that I reflect upon

That shape how I understand

He told me that to know him

I first had to let him be

To go back to his original state

Untethered and wholly free

Before he was a father

Before he was a son

Before he was just a survival tool

That state where he is One

His suggestion threatened my ego

I feared I would not exist

Without my mind to remind me of who I was

How could my ideas of me persist?

But he told me that all my big ideas

Led me further from the Truth

They were just stories I told myself

So that my so called life had proof

He said the Man in the Mirror

Is not really my reflection

That I was focusing all my power

On a mere ego projection

My mind shining through a filter

That casted only a shadow of myself

That I then looked at Creation through

Seeing shadows everywhere else

This was really hard to swallow

How could this really be?

How can I know who I really am

If my body isn’t me?

And what of other bodies?

If they’re not people, who are they?

And if I try to tell them this,

What will these other bodies say?

Maybe what they’re supposed to,

To ensure that they survive.

But if that is all that we can do

What is it that makes us come alive?

If we are not all these categories

And boxes people check

Are we really anything at all,

When further we reflect?

That’s really a scary thought

But one we have to entertain

If we ever are to know ourselves

As more than programs in our brain

In fact, the fear we feel around this

Is just another survival tool

Because the brain’s designed to not admit

When its programming has been fooled

Try it if you doubt it

Just try thinking something new

Say something that you don’t believe

And see what your brain will do

Synapses will start firing

Doing pattern reconstruction

Telling you what you already “know”

Just like the brain is supposed to function

It’s not easy to resist this

Even when higher knowledge has been revealed

We cannot do what we want to do

As long as the former pattern’s sealed

When I heard this, I couldn’t deny it

I had experienced the same

My brain was making all the rules

When I thought I controlled the game

This thought was so frustrating

The cognitive dissonance started hurting

Trying to hold these opposing thoughts

Was severely disconcerting

That’s when I remembered

Something in the Bible that I read

“Greater is He that’s in you.”

So I listened to “Him” instead

The “me” that is in the world

Started running out of time

As I began my transformation

Through the renewal of my mind

Paul said to die daily

Renewing body, mind, and all

Living from our heavenly body

That is aligned with our mind’s true call

But to do this we must surrender

We lose our lives when we try to save it

So the only Way to truly live

Is to return our lives to the One who gave it

This is the Mind that is in Christ

The Mind begotten but never born

According to the Original pattern

And not the ones to which the brain’s conformed

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

Walk Through Walls

Walls do not exist

They’re figments of imagination

Designed to blind our consciousness

From what we’re afraid of facing

There are walls that are made of money

There are walls that are made of stone

And walls that are made of false beliefs

Passed down but not our own

Our walls are what protect us

They tell us who we are

And they also tell us who we aren’t

To keep those who aren’t us very far

Almost everybody has them

It’s how we maintain our borders

So those who know that they aren’t real

Are often caught defying orders

We see them as the outcasts

At best they are the martyrs

We take those who are simply living Truth

And we make them movement starters

That’s how we define them

Using retrospection

Approving of them after death

While in life they got rejection

In our guilt we make them heroes

We make them even greater in our minds

We tell ourselves we revere them

But in truth we’re drawing lines

“This far and no further”

Is what we’re really trying to say

“The quickest way to get a statue

Is to go the martyr’s way.”

Now we’re making walls with dreamers

And most of us don’t know

They want to make us famous

So we have nowhere to go

But here’s the thing that we don’t get

I was serious about what I said

Our walls truly do not exist

They’re all made up in our head

Taking away the body

Does not take away the being

We think we’ve put a stop to Truth

But we don’t know what we are freeing

Yeshua called it the last enemy

Because it’s the one that never was

And from it we’ve created worlds

Built on the premise that it does

It’s the Wall that shapes all walls

Telling the lie, “There’s nothing left.”

But once we see the other side

We know there’s no such thing as death

Now the walls begin to crumble

Once we know that they’re not there

And all of a sudden Yeshua makes sense

When he tells us don’t be scared

You can’t imagine what you can imagine

When there’s nothing there to stop you

The first thing that you realize

It that the ego self is not you

We’ve just been dreaming limitation

When in reality there is none

But soon we’ll know ourselves as we are known

The very image of the Son

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

When I’m In Poetry Mode

I have many states of being

Most of them conditioned

Circumstantial ways I am

Depending on my position

If I’m on top I am a certain way

If on the bottom I’m another

Each one relative to what’s going on

Which determines how I’m covered

But when I am in poetry mode

I’m not circumstantially dependent

I enter into a different realm

Where I am consciously transcendent

There’s no thing as linearity

Removing the cause of the effect

For when life turns into poetry

All frames of reference intersect

At the point of their convergence

We find the poem’s entrance into time

Emerging out of no where

Thus impossible to confine

Always open to interpreting

It’s expression has no end

And as the author I am one with it

So who can say where I begin

Perhaps the poetry created me

To bring itself to form

Pre-existing my corporeal self

A possibility outside the norm

Now I’m not just a person being

But an event within creation

Composed of seen and unseen forces

Forming a poetic destination

I’m not encountered but attended

Participation is a must

If you ever want to know me

Before I turn back into dust

For when I’m not in poetry mode

I am a man devoid of being

Processes functioning mechanically

With eyes that have no seeing

Here to do until I’m done

Trying to get my tasks complete

My meaning and my function one

Until I’m considered obsolete

Then I am replaced

With a newer model off the shelf

That’s why a life without being poetry

Is like living without a self

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

We Dig It!

We Dig It

There’s something I feel I must say to you
Don’t get angry just because it’s true
This is something I feel I have to do
Now let me break it down for you
We dig it!

When we see those people with nothing to eat
Somehow it makes us feel more complete
So we dig it.

We see they’re so poor so we’re comparatively rich
But if it were not for them, there would be no rich
How would we know if we all had the same shit?
So we need the poor, ain’t that a bitch
Can you dig it?

Man, so and so’s kid is bad as hell
But it makes my kid comparatively well
So I dig it.

Now here is something else for you
Once again it’s extremely true
Someone has to be down to look up to you
So thank God for losers because I’m one too
Can you dig it?

If it wasn’t for the darkness
Would there be light?
So thank God for the madness
Does that seem right?
This is something I won’t explain tonight.
But still we dig it.

Now there’s one more thing I have to say
None of you are wrong today
If it wasn’t to be, it wouldn’t be this way
It’s all part of the process of becoming OK
Can we dig it?

Luke 18 offers a parable attributed to Jesus that tells the story of a man who, while in so called prayer, compared himself to other people and found himself to be comparatively righteous.

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other men—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I possess.’ And the tax collector, standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

How familiar does that sound?  Have you ever looked at other people and thought like the above Pharisee?  I’m sure most of you have.  I know I used to and I would venture to say that 99% of Americans do.  It is part of our indoctrination here.  And I think it is safe to assume that this is done the world over to the same degree.  It clearly was happening in Jesus’ locale and time and as we know it is still happening now.  The fact is that most of us would have no concept of who we are outside of the context of other people.  Like the Pharisee, we compare ourselves to others and either exalt ourselves or look down on ourselves in relation to the people we are comparing ourselves to.  This practice is rampant in humanity and operates at every so called level of society from the poorest of the poor to the richest of the rich.  From the highest IQ to the lowest.  From the least attractive to the most.  Do you see what I am doing here by calliing up these spectra?  When I say high isn’t that where you want to be?  When I say low isn’t that what you want to avoid?  The question is, who is determining what is “high” and “low”?  As you can see from the parable, Jesus doesn’t use our standards of judgment.  Most of us would be kissing the butt of the Pharisaical equivalent in our own time and circumstances.  We’d believe his hype and step all over ourselves to get into his entourage.

I remember one time some friends asked me to play basketball.  I tried to explain to them that I never cultivated my hoop game, but I was willing to play if they could concentrate on their game instead of mine.  They played all of the time and it was a waste of all of our energies to compare my skills to theirs or to get frustrated if I passed the ball into the bleachers or dribbled on my foot.  They assured me that they could live in the moment and just play for fun and drop the whole competitive thing.  “We’re just playing for exercise”, they swore.  Well, the game began and ten minutes in, I could tell that my partner wanted to punch me in the mouth.  It would not have been the first time I was punched on the basketball court for “making someone lose”, so I knew the signs.  But, this time  I was playing with adults, so I figured the frustration would not get pass the evil eye and the occassional scream of “COME ON!”  So I just did my best.  We were only playing to 21 and my only goal was to make at least one basket before the game was over.  I was actually having fun.  I was in my own world, rating myself solely by how close I actually got to getting the ball in.  Air, air, backboard, backboard, air, rim, rim, backboard.  Then it happened.  There was no hope.  We were going to lose, but I kept playing like the game was as close as one of those Mighty Ducks movies.

According to programming, my teammate was dying inside.  Why did he get me?  “Pass the ball,” he yelled.  I guess the possibililty of losing 21 to 6 seemed more appealing than 21 to 4.  But I took the shot and by God’s grace, we were 1 point higher on the defeat scale. 19 to 7.  I’m jumping up and down.  I made a shot.  And then the game was sealed as the other guys took it home.  As they reveled in their glory and proceeded to throw it in my face, I said, “Yeah.  You destroyed a guy who played the game 5 times in his life and only twice with other people.  Woopity doo.  But did you see that shot I got on you?  I’m only 5’4″ and I got that shot over your 6′ head.  How were you not able to block that?”  Of course he looked at me like I was crazy.  On top of that I took all of the fun out of his gloating.  “If Jesus were calling that game he would have said I won, but who’s keeping score?” I added.  After the dust settled and they decided that I was officially crazy, one of the guys asked me why I wasn’t bothered by the game.  I told him that I knew one of us was going to lose.  That’s just how it is.  If there were no losers, there would be no winners.  He needed me in order for him to feel like a winner.Because I knew that, in reality I had nothing to lose.  My role completes the universal balance.  It’s just how it is.

This is the reality y’all.  The Universe does not need our judgment.  It is pretty pointless in the grand scheme of things.  When we compare ourselves to others and try to determine our status in relation to them, it is an exercise in futility.  As long as we do that we will never be able to truly desire for the fulfillment of all life.  How can we?  How can we be happy for people if we think of them as being better off than us?  How can we see eye to eye with those in temporary need if we think we are in a position to pity them or feel sorry for them?  One of my favorite quotes is from the actor, Kevin Costner.  I read an article he was featured in after he won a bunch of awards for Dances with Wolves.  When asked how excited he was about all of the achievements he said, “Hey, I am just a guy living a life like anybody else.”  And that’s it in a nutshell.  We are all people living lives and making choices.  Comparing ourselves to others and gauging our value based on what other people are doing adds nothing to our lives.

With this poem, I hope the reader is willing to admit that we have this tendency to compare ourselves to others and base our worth on a false sense of value, if in fact that is the case.  We need to know that each and everyone of us is of infinite value to our Creator.  Do you know what it takes to get us here?  It takes everything.  God does not hold back.  God gives everything to everything.  God literally pours God’s entire Being into everything that IS. And then once we become self aware or should I say self conscious, we begin the futile attempts to break it down, categorize it, and judge it according to our limited points of view.  What if we could just stop it all?  What if we could just be with each other, appreciate each other, and just live our lives together?

So the next time you catch yourself putting yourself down or lifting yourself up solely based on other people, just admit it.  No one can really judge you, so don’t judge yourself.  And as Jesus beseeched us, “Judge not, lest thou be judged” (by yourself).

Matthew 7:1-6

Do Not Judge

7 “Judge not, that you be not judged. 2 For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you. 3 And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove the speck from your eye’; and look, a plank is in your own eye? 5 Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.6 “Do not give what is holy to the dogs; nor cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you in pieces.

The Man I Am

The Man I Am

I am the man society made

I had no choice in me

Your anger, your love, your joy, your frustration

Are all that I can be

I am a man without a Voice

All I say is what you need

Never able to speak for me,

Until all of us are freed

Have you ever felt like you had no choice in the person that you are?  It’s as if everything that you do is interpreted in a manner over which you have no choice.  I’ve felt that feeling and I have known many people who have.  Sometimes it works for you–at least until you start to question it–and sometimes it doesn’t.  For a long time it worked for me.  I ended up looking like the good guy no matter what I did because that was the role people assigned to me.  There were even times where I deliberately set out to do wrong and it turned out good.  I couldn’t stand it.  I was trapped by goodness.  I couldn’t even be a jerk if I wanted to. I was what they said I was and there is nothing “they” hate more than being wrong. The ego is so crazy that even when I admitted to being wrong and tried to punish myself, the people who were invested in my goodness would not support my own summation of myself. That is how crazy we are sometimes. Here’s a good example.

When I was in the military, I started out as a super shiny and crispy airman. My uniform was pressed, my boots were shiny, and I was super respectful. I drank the kool-aid in basic training and asked for seconds. I liked the order and the core values and all that rut. When it came time for the reviews, I deserved a 5 out of 5 and expected it. I honored the system, followed it, and deserved to get the scores it said someone who followed it was supposed to get. So when my first supervisor who didn’t know anything about me since he was deployed my entire evaluation period tried to give me a 3, I let him know that wasn’t happening. Everyone else who got to know me in the office knew I was a 5 so they would not accept his recommendation.

I know I sound arrogant, but is it arrogant to call a red rose red? No. I was a 5, because “they” had already decided I was a 5 because I did what 5s were supposed to do. I had paid enough attention in life to know that there was nothing he or anyone could do about it without getting into some serious crazy stuff. Of course, he doubted my take on things and went into the NCOIC’s (Non Commissioned Officer in Charge) to tell him I deserved a 3. His reasoning was that I did not work well with others, because he heard me tell a fellow airman to do his job or get out of my way. Well, after a few minutes, he emerged from the office looking like he was going to cry. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye. I was then called in the office where the NCOIC proceeded to tell me to ignore everything my supervisor said. “Obviously he does not know you. I will do your evaluation and it is a 5.” All I said was, “Ok. Thanks.” After that, my supervisor and I never really talked much. He knew his opinion didn’t count for anything. The irony is, neither did mine.

Fast forward 2 years. I went from shiny and crispy to dull and flaky. I was overweight, angry, and was sweating alcohol. I put getting haircuts off to the last minute and my pseudofolliculitis barbae (that is medical talk for razor bumps) was getting out of hand since I had finally started to grow facial hair. I was a mess and I knew it. On top of it all I was having crazy heart palpitations. I was no longer 5 material even in my own summation–especially in my summation. In retrospect I guess I was in mourning from a relationship ending. But at the time I did not have sympathy for myself so I decided that I was just a punk. I felt so crappy I didn’t even think God wanted anything to do with me. And so out of anger, I turned my projection of God’s imagined sentiment toward me back onto my idea of God and then rejected it. In short, I didn’t even have God to lean on at that time. And I started going out to clubs and drinking and generally trying to make up for lost time when I was “good for no reason”. Still, somehow, like Solomon I was able to see myself acting like a fool with some clarity.

When evaluation time came around again, I was able to be honest on the form where it asked my opinion of myself. Being a little generous for the extenuating circumstances of my break-up, I gave myself a 3.5. I didn’t care that the lower score would effect my ability to get promoted or anything. I still had respect for what the system was designed for. I didn’t think someone acting like I was acting should be headed toward promotion anyway and so I told the truth about my decline. Guess what happened. I got called into the office and was essentially told what my old supervisor had been told. I was not getting anything less than a 5. I protested that it was unfair and that people like me deserved 3.5s or else the whole system would be corrupted. My new supervisor eventually begged me to accept a 5 for his sake and I told him, “I don’t care what you do because this system is fake.” He told me that if it made me feel any better, he would write in my areas of improvement that I talked too much and was too hard on myself. I remained a 5.

So you see. In that case, I was the man that society made. I had no choice in me. Unfortunately, I know several people who did not benefit from this human tendency to see what they want to see. And believe me, I have been on that side too. This place has a way of trying to force you into conformity with the story “they” have already written for us. I could have easily told you a story about brothers in my neighborhood who were convinced that there was “nothing for a nigga to do but sling” after being crushed by the pressures around them or of a friend who was so tired of being looked at like he was going to steal something that he snapped and did it and was consequently labeled a thief. I could have, but I used the example above because I think it is important to know that there are people who benefit from some of our systems who are just as trapped as those of us who don’t seemingly benefit. We’re all in this world together and I think that the sooner we realize that we are serving systems instead of being served by them and serving humanity as a whole, the sooner we will be able to erase the lines we think separate us from one another. Jesus told the religious robots of his time that the Sabbath was created for humanity, not the other way around. The same is true for all of the systems we have in place. I don’t think that there is anything wrong with systems, but when people are being herded into them like cattle forced to play roles that may run contrary to their spirit, those systems need to be questioned. If they are not open to questioning then none of us are free.

This poem calls to consciousness that feeling of despair that colors many of our lives. Like Eminem said, “I am whatever you say I am. If I wasn’t then why would you say I am.” That’s what many of us feel like after years of being fed this story of who we are or who we are supposed to be. I want you to know that we have a choice. When you read this poem, I hope that you acknowledge any feelings that come up around it and then decide whether or not you want to keep allowing them to dictate your life. Because you do have a choice even if it may not seem to be an easy one. The key is to follow Jesus’ advice to the rich young ruler in Luke 18:18-27. If we can do that, then we go from being someone society made to someone God created. That’s where the freedom lives.

Why I Wrote “It’s All In Me”

I made this blog, because after stepping away from this book for nearly seven years, I have authentically used the book, It’s All In Me, for the purpose for which it was originally conceived–as a roadmap back into consciousness.  It provided me with a breadcrumb trail back to the core of my being when I stepped off the path and entered into the wilderness of life.  That’s no joke.  For the most part, I am a person that avoids tumultuous situations if I can help it.  I try to learn from other people’s mistakes and circumvent making my own.  But I’ve discovered that life is “dirty”.  I’m convinced that we’re meant to get the grime of life under our fingernails while somehow remembering and/or maintaining the awareness that we are of divine stock.  I trust the witness of Christ to that effect and try to live my life with the anticipation of realizing in myself and others that which I believe he saw in humanity.

John 3:16-17 teaches that  “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”

For the past 30 years, I have been trying to figure out what Christ saw in us that was worth dying for.  That’s what I want to know, because I do not think that one can truly live without that knowledge.  This is one man’s opinion.  Engaging life from this consciousness is not a religious thing.  It is a reality thing.  And that is what “It’s All In Me” is striving toward.  I do not try to escape from the fact that the best and worst of what we witness in humanity dwells within me and in everyone of us.  And yet, I believe that every dimension of my being–of all  of our being is wholly loved and embraced in the reality of what many of us call God.  I think Jesus engaged humanity from that reality and that each and everyone of us has that option.  That’s what this book tries to remind us of.  We have choice in how we engage humanity no matter what our story is.  This book was written in poetry so that the reader can help create it as they read.  I want you to project yourself into the poems and own the fact that the best and worst of what you encounter in these readings is within you. The question is: What will you do with that consciousness?

“There is so much good in the worst of us, and so much bad in the best of us, it doesn’t behoove any of us to speak evil of the rest of us ”  — Edgar Cayce

Get copies of It’s All in Me on Amazon.com at: (Paperback)  It’s All In Me  (Digital) It’s All In Me

Also, if you’ve read this book and want to review it, just go to one of the above links and scroll down to customer reviews.  Thanks.