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Ah James, Oh James Poor James

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  • #449541
    James123
    Participant

    Poor James.

    He tried so hard.

    Tried to be good. Tried to be strong. Tried to be someone.

    He read the books. Sat in meditation.

    Chased enlightenment like a hungry man chasing a shadow on the wall.

    But the more he sought,

    the farther he felt.

    Poor James.

    He thought awakening was a prize.

    That God was a goal.

    That peace would come if he just tried a little harder, fixed a little more, understood a little deeper.

    But James forgot,

    you can’t polish the wind.

    you can’t frame the sky.

    And now he stands before the Truth,

    empty-handed.

    Exhausted.

    No more words. No more masks.

    Just poor James,

    with nothing left to hold,

    and nowhere left to go.

    And in that poverty,

    in that total collapse of “James”,

    something begins to shine.

    Not as James.

    Not for James.

    But as what always was,

    waiting patiently behind the veil.

    Poor James…

    Finally, what remains is rich beyond measure.

    #449542
    Alessa
    Participant

    Hi James

    Might not be able to escape suffering, but you’re a pretty swell guy! You are appreciated and loved for being you. Just as you are. ❤️

    #449550
    Thomas168
    Participant

    Carry on my wayward son,
    There’ll be peace when you are done,
    Lay your weary head to rest,
    Don’t you cry no more,

    Once I rose above the noise and confusion,
    Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion,
    I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high,

    Though my eyes could see I was still a blind man,
    Though my mind could think I was still a mad man,
    I hear the voices when I’m dreaming, I can hear them say,

    Carry on my wayward son,
    There’ll be peace when you are done,
    Lay your weary head to rest,
    Don’t you cry no more,

    Masquerading as a man with a reason,
    My charade was the event of the season,’
    And if I claim to be a wise man,
    Well, it surely means I don’t know,

    On a stormy sea of moving emotion,
    Toss about, like a ship on the ocean,
    I set a course for winds of fortune,
    But, I hear the voices say,

    Carry on my wayward son,
    There’ll be peace when you are done,
    Lay your weary head to rest,
    Don’t you cry no more,

    Carry on you will always remember,
    Carry on nothing equals the splendor,
    Now your life’s no longer empty,
    Surely heaven waits for you,

    Carry on my wayward son,
    There’ll be peace when you are done,
    Lay your weary head to rest,
    Don’t you cry no more,

    Kansas,

    Lyrics by Paulo Antonio

    #449556
    Alessa
    Participant

    I love that song! 🎶 ❤️

    #449558
    James123
    Participant

    Amazing song.

    Ms. Alessa,

    Thank you very much, it is your beauty ❤️❤️❤️

    #449568
    anita
    Participant

    Dear James:

    “Poor James. He tried so hard. Tried to be good. Tried to be strong. Tried to be someone… But the more he sought, the farther he felt… He thought.. That peace would come if he just tried a little harder, fixed a little more, understood a little deeper… Poor James… Finally, what remains is rich beyond measure.”-

    This is very meaningful to me, it speaks to me. It resonates with my own experience of childhood and beyond:

    I tried so hard, too hard to be safe. I tried to be good enough to be safe. I tried to be someone so to feel safe. My feeling of safety hinged on how others feel about me. I was terribly AFRAID of people.

    “Finally, what remains is rich beyond measure”- for me, what remains today is indeed rich beyond measure: the fear is weaker, softer.

    Thank you, James for this beautiful poem!

    Warmly, Anita

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