Home→Forums→Spirituality→Ah James, Oh James Poor James
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anita.
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September 9, 2025 at 6:39 am #449541
James123
ParticipantPoor 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.
September 9, 2025 at 6:51 am #449542Alessa
ParticipantHi 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. ❤️
September 9, 2025 at 9:01 am #449550Thomas168
ParticipantCarry 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
September 9, 2025 at 9:16 am #449556Alessa
ParticipantI love that song! 🎶 ❤️
September 9, 2025 at 9:30 am #449558James123
ParticipantAmazing song.
Ms. Alessa,
Thank you very much, it is your beauty ❤️❤️❤️
September 9, 2025 at 11:33 am #449568anita
ParticipantDear 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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