Still, This

dharma life has a way of leading me toward the dharma

On hopes and expectations, both met and surpassed and refuted.

Looking back so much has changed
At least as much for the better as in the other direction
Anyhow... good bad who’s to say 
Yet when it’s against my preference
When the pain of change seems too much to bear
What I must break or burst
I find myself confounded and bitter
Realizing I am not getting what I want
Nor likely will I
There I am, still
Digging in to stubborn habits, rituals and routines
Resisting and running
Craving and clinging
Closing tightly my eyes from what’s in front of me
Acting as if there’s a true need for things to be a certain way
As if blindness were a solution
With much out of my control and so very little within
I do my best
Make my way as skillfully as possible
To the degree I am able I lead with kindness
Forgiveness is present
Loosen the shackles of anger and resentment
Cultivate a willingness to be awed
Struck grateful by the cool spring breeze across the prairie 
And still life has its way