Told and not Told.

This prose poem was inspired by Irest meditation developed by Richard C. Miller, Ph.D. (https://shop.irest.org)

Irest is a form of Yoga Nidra. It is a nondual practice where opposite beliefs, concepts, and emotions are simultaneously held in Awarenes. Irest uses the concept of cognitive dissonance to enlighten and promote healing. It comes from the perspective that everything and everyone is whole to begin with and not binary, fractured, or broken. From this place of wholeness comes healing and health. Irest is well supported and validated by research. It works for many aspects of mental health and wellness. It has been used as a healing modality for many mental illnesses including its extensive use in the treatment of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

I want to thank Conrad, LPC, PLLC, for teaching me Irest meditation. (https://palosantotherapy.com/)

Told and not Told.

Even in the absence and presence of limpid obscured faith and unbelief, when stripped of and engulfed in the comfort and discomfort of religion, and the structure and fragmentation of philosophy, there remains and does not remain an undeniable and deniable being and unbeing.  It is and is not the momentum and stagnation simultaneously and discordantly that propels and retards life and death.

In the minuscule and vast expanding and contracting firmament and void, the matter and antimatter trace and wipe ordered random paths. Each moves and freezes towards to and away from something and nothing unknown and known.

Insects crawl unsettled and stationary, with and without irrelevant purpose. They follow and lead in ordered and disordered,  patterns and derangements— minute, monstrous, intricate, unexacting, relentlessly irresolute, in their marches and retreats.

In  the bloom of a flower and in the decay of leaves, in the caterpillar and the butterfly, the same principles and perversions guide and confuse. What it drives towards to, what it drives away from, what end it serves, what beginning it creates, is beyond our grasp, and completely known.

In the soul and flesh, there is and there is not a longing and loathing for connection and disconnection, for meaning and futility, for understanding and misunderstanding. The journey and torpidity ahead and behind is continuous and fragmented—towards and away a destination and a start.

We stand apart from and together with, both and neither shaped and demolished, created and destroyed— in a season and an age.

Passing moments, moments frozen. The silence and cry of an infant at birth, and the laughter and tears of it's dying aged self.