Slippers slipping off my feet
Adjusting my new inserts
Adjusting my old soul
Stopping at the brick lotus
Sitting in the Sun awhile
Material conditions of Mindfulness
Lower back pain
Blurry eyes
Big fat stomach
Dry skin on my forehead
Burning in the cool wind
Some lotion, some rubbing
Facing the sun
Leafs blowing across concrete
Keeping time with Dolly Parton on iTunes.
Assignments for school
Breaking across the shadows
On my notebook
We cry for justice when we realize that all systems of behavior take away our own proper being. Maybe we see that we have become nothing more than degrees of produced information, certificates of deposit, time cards and payrolls, contracts and policies… lines of credit: creditable lives. And all of these independent investments interacting in the MetaNetwork of Global Prosumption.
Death the ever present Ally
The always already reminder
Not much time–do things!
Without benevolence, justice is a bureaucratic shell game, always showing itself doing something… because something must be done. We are cleaved from each other and only have virtual properties to show for it. And the most virtual and least virtuous: the Independent Individual, lacking basic benevolence while overflowing with “rights” and “liberties”, over full of ideals of fairness and specters of propriety.
Leaves skittering across concrete
Beard itching suddenly
Tickled by wind
Raising my hoodie
Enshadowed and shading
On my brick lotus
I feel my self and my circumstances. I am I-and-Thou: we, us. Justice in a world of propriety is just-ice: the splitting berg of isolation, hiding its massive coldness beneath the waters, cleaving the ground of our communities in twain.
Justice just is just-us or it is not righteousness. Justice just is just-us, the expression of our quiet benevolence as those who through an excellence of mutual regard comprehend each other as selves-together. No matter how much each part can become contradiction through individualism, the encompassing experience can (re)ad-just us.
I am You, You are Me,
We are thus: Just-Us.
We strive, we struggle
We labor, we work
We hold, we let-go
We laying down and rising up… We, comprehending, co-inhabiting such that the neighbor and the householder are the same.
Let us welcome to our table the Bread of Compassion that consumes itself as our Companionship. Let us welcome to our dwelling the Water of Life that distributes itself as our Consciousness. Let us exchange the Individual for the Being-Singular-Plural.
We are the means
Of our ownmost Productivity.
There is Nothing to be Owned.
Come… give us our hand…
Let us sit in This Way
Doing-without-Doing
Free
CALL ME MAGGIE 