Tag Archives: compassion

THE VOW

THE VOW

THE VOW I took at my first breath
was the one about survival
That one I couldn’t really resist because it was instinctive
but i have to admit that it feels like a vow

It needed to be a vow for me,
not just an instinct
because i needed to survive
my delicate mindedness was too refined for the coarseness of this experience
and i fought this vow with fists up and a sarcastic posture
so that i could take the easier way
and just let go
of this experience

But my soul knew me too well
and made me take a vow
so that i would survive
and make me stay here
despite myself

Okay, that makes sense.
the vow to survive so i wouldn’t give up before i was done

But then a secondary vow was made
this one was i made voluntarily
and that was love
I think I’ve made that vow every day of my life since i could think
not love in the sense that most think of it
not mushy love
dreamy love
romantic love
but love as the action
as the pursuit
as the living breathing experience of my life

to love as a discipline
to love through confusion
and discomfort
to love the unlovable
in me and in others
to love when my own heart is broken
to love through thick and thin
to love through hell and back
to love to heaven
to love with all the meanings of love
the ascension of love
the devolution of love
to keep loving
open eyed
standing there as a witness to love
to dissolve into love
to evolve into love
a pillar of carbonite crystal
that doesn’t move
that doesn’t hesitate
that only discerningly poignantly exactly and generally
keeps choosing love
in the face of not-love
that is the vow i take

And now, my new vow is take that big love of mine
and aim it at myself

So that i can complete that circle of love
and not just pulse and pulse and pulse
out
with no return
but to let it return
love to me
love for me
love as me.

© Diana Lang 2018

A minute on compassion

A minute on Compassion with Diana Lang

Merry-Go-Round – a little story

Demerry-go-roundlightedly giggling, she whirled and twirled around and around the merry-go-round. She loved the up-and-down of it and the round-and-round of it. She laughed herself silly until she noticed the other little girl, four horses back and behind her, who was crying and holding on for dear life to the swirly, golden pole with her eyes tightly closed shut. She got off her gorgeous turquoise unicorn with the striped silver and gold horn, and wended her way back through the sea of horses to the little girl who sat on a zebra with a bright red saddle and long yellow tail, and said, “Pretty zebra you’re riding.”

The little girl on the zebra unsqueezed her eyes and peeked out of her blurred, tear-filled eyes.

“I just want to get off,” she cried.

The unicorn girl just stood quietly next to her, then softly touched her shoe as she looked up into her eyes and said, “Don’t worry, it will stop soon.” The little girl on the zebra sighed with relief but held on all the tighter.

Before she knew it, the carousel did stop. The grand calliope music stopped, too. The horses stopped going up and down, the merry-go-round stopped going round and round, and the little girl who rode the unicorn still stood next to her.

It wasn’t too soon for the little girl who rode the zebra. She jumped right down off the platform and into the dust and noise, and the parents and children who stood all around. The little unicorn girl jumped right off after her, loving the pink dust that poofed up under her feet when she landed.

They both stood there looking at each other for a moment, and the little zebra girl shyly said to the unicorn girl, “Want to go again?”