authenticity

The Reaching

A hand reaching,
across a table,
no agenda concealed in its palm,
no desired outcome fluttering
like a bird in a cage.

Only the space closing,
skin meeting skin,
a silent current flowing,
unbidden, unexpected.

Not to gain,
not to fix,
not even to comfort,
though comfort may unfold
in the quiet that ensues.

It is.
A gesture stripped,
of calculation,
and of the relentless chorus
of why.

In that naked simplicity,
a resonance.
A weight that comes to rest,
not heavy, but authentic.

Meaning unfolds,
and discovered,
like a vein of gold
buried in the plain stone
of existence.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Whispers of Essence

There’s a story within each of us,
spun from hurt and quiet victories.
Yet beneath the details, the echo of our years whispers the same essence-
a shared longing for connection.

Friends from the cradle,
yet a few sculpt the world with illusions,
spinning the idea that unity is forged
only in the fire of a common enemy.
But how can that be true,
when kindness is our first language?

Life grows complex
beneath the veils we sew,
when its essence thrives
in the simplest of truths.
Water flows freely,
gifted by nature’s grace.
Food flourishes in soil
untainted, unclaimed.
The breath we take—pure, unseen—
renews every atom, every pulse of life.

Would we not thrive,
if we cast off the burdens
and embraced the abundance
that was never meant
to be possessed?

Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.
The Stranger’s Truth

It is hard being misunderstood,
Like a book written in a forgotten tongue.
Misunderstanding denies
The existence of identity,
Self and truth,
A erasure of the soul’s fingerprint.

Feeling misunderstood,
Is a feeling of non-acceptance
Of who we are,
A rejection of our inner landscape,
Mountains of experience flattened
By the bulldozer of presumption.

Accept or pass,
Don’t deny.

My misunderstandings are
Simple to understand,
Like clear water mistaken for air.

I am always a stranger,
A traveler in a land of familiar faces.
And I always become
A stranger,
Even to those closest
To me.

People sense the breath
Of depth,
An ocean beneath a still surface,
And assume intentions,
Sometimes they assume,
Bad intentions.

But the truth is
What they sense
Is an unfiltered directness,
A deeper meaning,
Waiting to be uncovered,
Like buried treasure beneath
The sands of superficiality.

There is no veil,
There is essence.

In this world of masks and mirrors,
I stand naked in my truth,
Unbreakable, a paradox.

Misunderstood, yes,
But in the quiet of self-knowledge,
I find the acceptance
The world often fails to give.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Born Naked

Born naked,
No boundaries,
But bonds of
breath and being.

Born naked,
Free, with no borders,
Just curiosity’s flame.
A lighthouse in the fog.

Identity,
Not in this chapter,
Not in this lesson,
A blank canvas,
Awaiting society’s brush.

Meaning and service,
Imagination and tranquility,
Gratitude and exploration,
Yet often traded for
Comfort in conformity.

We teach ours
And theirs,
Presentation and acts,
Masks worn daily,
Truth lost in the act,
Authenticity, a forgotten script.

Who’s watching over us?

We don’t teach faith,
We teach worship of idols.

We don’t teach questions,
We teach answers prepackaged,
Easy to digest,
Hard to escape,
Mental fast food.

We don’t teach thinking,
We teach status,
The climb over others,
A race with no end,
Sisyphus in a suit and tie.

Likes over essence,
Thrills over purpose,
Moments of euphoria,
Digital applause in an empty auditorium.

Who’s watching over us?
Our forgotten selves, perhaps,
Peering through the cracks.

From naked truths
To clothed deceit,
We walk life’s wardrobe,
Trying on identities like costumes,
Forgetting the skin beneath.

Beneath the layers,
The naked child still breathes,
The flame flickering,
Waiting to be fanned.

Who’s watching over us?
The answer lies in the question,
For in asking, we awaken
To the watchers.

Born naked,
We return to nakedness.

Who’s watching over us?
Let it be our truest,
Guardians of the flame,
That burns at our birth.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
You Can’t Lose What Is True

You can’t lose
What is true.
You can’t lose
What is authentic.

You can not lose love.
You can not lose friendship.
You can not lose kindness.
If it’s true, it shines back,
A beacon in the dark.

Freedom is an accepting
Connection between two.
Both are allowed to be themselves,
When both accommodate growth.
A dance of give and take,
A symphony of shared space.

Two together.
Be curious, learn.
Avoid the harmful.
Quench the fruitful,
The uplifting towards the light,
And the motivating to illuminate.
In this garden of togetherness,
We grow towards the sun.

Save, hold back
Shrink the comfortable
Space to be,
And you lose.
For true connection
Needs room to breathe.

To love
Is to give of
The love within,
For self.
Love between two,
Is love in
The space between.
A bridge of light
Connecting heart to heart.

Authenticity,
A reflection of the soul.
Be vulnerable,
Reveal, don’t hide
The true meaning.
See the soul,
In yourself and others.
For in this nakedness of spirit,
We find our truest selves.

In the mirror of authentic connection,
We lose only our illusions,
And gain the world.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Control

Control over a person
Takes many forms:
Thoughts, emotions, movements,
Environment, habits,
The pace of a relationship,
A group, an organization,
Natural resources,
The wealth of a nation—
The list goes on.
And on.

A relationship
Bound by authority
Cannot breathe,
Cannot thrive.

Wisdom lies in respect
For the other.
Control is rooted
In disregard.

Those who seek
To control others
Reveal their emptiness—
Lacking meaning,
Trapped in their own
Prison of dominance.

But those who love,
Who feel empathy,
Who offer kindness—
They experience life,
They create and become.
For them, freedom
Is the wellspring of meaning.

We live in what we
Create for others.

But how do we embrace
Our abundance?
The abundance of rights
And freedoms—
Individual, collective,
In harmony—
The rights of our earth,
Above and below.

The freedom to express
And…

We see, hear, and feel
Peace in its beauty—
And its horrors
In the chaos of survival.

One lives fully,
The other clings
To survival.

We do not live
Our abundance together.
Why?

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Journey on

There’s a question
Most never ask
Simple, yet profound
The key to your path

How do I get there?

Some chase wealth
A million in the bank
A mansion on the hill
A fancy car in the drive

Others seek contentment
A family’s warm embrace
A life of quiet joy
Just enough to get by

But whatever you choose
Whatever life you crave
This question burns bright
Like a guiding flame

How do I get there?

Without it, you drift
A leaf on the wind
Reacting, not living
Surviving, not thriving

You turn left for a fallen tree
Right to avoid the wolf
Dizzy from the dance
Of life’s random tune

But ask the question
And the fog lifts
Your road becomes clear
Your steps find purpose

How do I get there?

It’s not a secret
It’s not profound
It’s the map you draw
The compass you follow

Don’t be hypnotized
By the world’s noise
Create your identity
Choose your own voice

When you know the way
Obstacles become challenges
Your authentic self emerges
In harmony with your dreams

Journey on,
With purpose in your stride
For you’ve asked the question
That lights the way inside

How do I get there?
Now you know.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
The Paradox of Preference

People prefer politeness
Over kindness.
Politeness creates boundaries,
Within the comfort zone.
Kindness is intimate,
It penetrates through the skin,
And touches the heart.
Politeness dresses nicely,
Kindness is naked.

Politeness is a mask we wear,
Kindness, the face beneath.
One shields, the other shares,
Our true humanity.

People prefer the shallow,
Over the deep and true.
Skimming life’s surface,
Afraid to dive into the blue.

People prefer entertainment,
Over reality, journey, friendship,
Exploration and discoveries.
It is harder to consume
The fabricated,
Than it is to feel
Life.

Reality demands presence,
Entertainment is a mere distraction.
Only one shapes our essence.

In the quiet of authenticity,
We find our loudest truths.
Yet we cling to noise,
Evading the wisdom of our youth.

People’s preference is
A paradox.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.