it's enough 9-26-05
Monday, September 26, 2005

Have you found me?
I don't think so.
You've scraped my surface & examined the shavings under a micro scientific scope.
You'd think that such a scrutiny would reveal the multitudes of truth.

and it doesn't.

I've been written off, told I was unqualified, told I simply didn't have it, or posessed of whatever it was that it took, that it would seem so many others had.

But I do have one thing, I've always had it.
The deeper me.

I faced a mockery of my passions in younger days.
Spent time in the principals office for something as harmless as my faith. I prayed at the lunch table! Lock me away!!!

Never have I been oh so understood and to even stand to be in the presence of those who just might indent me and find that the spirit does not snap back into place like a Mountain Dew bottle.

But I fall back upon myself, in my safetied world, tis far from a mask, or a layers, or a skin, it is a hidden soul, that is so often worn on my pocket, and sometimes on my back, a large logo of three rings & a bull's eye in the middle.

I once asked, "why" as my lunch was rudely interrupted by someone who decided I was worthy of a solid hit square in the face. My paisley shirt stained in blood, my blood. The shirt now cast aside as was my resolve in that stupid, stupid moment. And a wave of selfing punishment like a greying cloud thunders around.

In here is healing, in here is understanding. In here, is

I never asked to be understood, I never desired to be appreciated, I never signed a dotted line for a petition for anyones approval. To myself I found my greatest fan and harshest critic.


Why do I pour out my depth, and tear back the layers of myself saying here look at me, beneath my skin are muscles and organs and bloody covered things that lie within every body else. and every else's body.

But there is a deeper me. Am I satisfied with what I do? What I do? Is that my definition of myself? I sure hope not. No I long for more, to walk beyond yellow walls and bricking buildings.

I want to walk back out to the field and be at one with the ground. To hold something natural in my hand. A sandy moment staring into the depth of the earth and there finding something of a greater beauty.

and these are the ramblings of a stranger day. And yet, somehow, I write them, if only to ask, am I the only one. I know the answer is "of course not"

And so I tie my shoelaces, and dust off the front of my shirt. I pick up my intangible books off this grey tiled floor. and realize life goes on. And I go on.

And I realize with a chuckle, how in the midst of my greater geekdom. I found something beyond a show. Beyond nine actors & costumes & premieres. I found a motto, an inspiration. I found a creed to hold tight and never let go of.

And I smile as say to myself, "I'm still flying & it's enough" and my smile grows brighter as I realize I'm not beside myself, but that she is beside myself. My ever faithful, ever loving, and ever understanding.

She who would not let me hide in this self-made world. She who broke down every wall, and sought invitation to this solitary place. And I see her there sewing needle in hand, stitching an unstraight line on the sleeves of a pair of goodwill tan coveralls, and with bubbly paint she has written on the pocket the word "Shiny"

And I will wear my brown coat.

This is our world, our verse and our sky and when it is ours it is always enough.
-R. Harris



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