Another Way
 

                                            On Dissolving the I (inspired by Adyashanti)
    
    I am not the accretion that becomes incarnate.
    I don't mean I haven't done it, or been it, or created it, or possessed it. I don't mean I am not deserving of it. I just mean I don't want it any more.   
    I am not a father. I am not a son. I am not an ex-husband. I am not a divorcé. I'm not a single guy. I am not a cousin. I am not a nephew. I am not a first cousin once removed. I am.
    I am not a writer. I am not a filmmaker. I am not a storyteller. I am not a screenwriter. I am not a producer. I am not a house-sitter. I am not a founder. I am not a teacher. I am not a student.  I am not a former journalist. I am not a college graduate. I am not the firstborn or the most special sibling in my family. I am not the teacher's pet. I am not the smartest kid in class. I am not from a long line of anything. I am not an ex-Catholic. I'm not an ex-Buddhist. I am not an entrepreneur. I'm not an artist.  I am not a visionary. I am not my resumé. I am.
    I say this with complete love. I am not your friend. I am not your long lost friend. I am not your buddy. I am not your lover. I am not your boyfriend. I am not your former boyfriend. I am not your future boyfriend. I am not your acquaintance. I am not your Facebook friend. I am not your uncle. I am not your brother. I am not your cousin. I am not your son. I am not your father. I am not your business partner. I am not your employee. I am not your boss. I am not somebody who knows somebody. I am not somebody who could help you. I'm not somebody who could hire you. I am.
    I am not my wit. I am not my sarcasm. I am not cynicism. I am not my wealth. I am not my poverty. I am not my knowledge. I am not my compassion. I am not my blessings. I am not my fate. I am not my sun sign. I am not too good for this. I am.
    I am not my full head of hair. I am not my jump shot. I am not the legendary over-the-shoulder catch to win the game. I am not my horrendous slice. I am not my back pain. I am not my old shoes. I am not my special socks. I am not my laptop. I am not the cute kid in the home movies. I'm not the school spelling bee champ. I am not my bank account. I am not the house I live in. I am not my next project.  I am not Steven King's lookalike, so just stop that shit. I am.
    I am not my car. I am not my journals. I am not my knick knacks, gewgaws or tchotches. I am not my art collection. I am not the lover of Guided by Voices. I am not my record collection. I am not the songs on my Ipod. I am not my clothes. I am.
    I am not my seeking.  I am not my fear. I am not my confidence. I am not my example.  I am not my victimhood. I am not my victimizing. I am not the stand up guy. I am not the chump. I am not my spirituality. I am not my reliability.  I'm not my authenticity. I'm not my falseness. I'm not my helpfulness. I'm not my indispensability.  I'm not my bitterness. I'm not my elation. I am not my drinking. I'm not my sobriety. I am not my exquisite taste in music. I am not my opinions. I am not my judgment. I am.
    I am not that funny story about visiting Europe. I am not that tragic story about dozens of romantic breakups. I'm not that blog about my amazing trip to Japan. I'm not my memories of sexual experiences. I'm not my memories of getting kicked in the ass. I'm not a book I read. I am not my friends. I am not my enemies.
    I am not my sense of obligation, my sense of duty, my sense of right, my sense of wrong, my sense of justice, my sense of betrayal, my sense of fairness. I am not my sense of humor. I am not my sense of anything. I am.
    I am not responsible for anything. I am responsible for everything. I am neither and both. I am only a passing thought. I am transparent. Can you still recognize me?
    I'll leave the keys under the mat. It's all yours if you want it. But I am out of here.
    The truth is I was drinking coffee from a yellow mug when I wrote this. I was sitting on a leather couch in a living room in a house in Placitas. I was wearing jeans and a pullover shirt. The sun was shining through the windows.
    The Truth is I am empty. I am light. I am one with.
    Now we're getting somewhere.
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Not your son
12/16/2009 07:45:39 am

YES. Now we're getting somewhere!

Jane
12/16/2009 01:18:19 pm

Yep, now we are getting somewhere...thanks for getting us there, I am.

Not your friend
12/17/2009 05:28:58 am

You are not! LOL

In other news ... beautiful piece, You Who Is Not! I mean Is!

Love,
Burgy NOT


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