Steel Made of Jello & Frosting


how can i be teacher, yet still be student?
easy? i do nothing but live to example what i’ve learned and believe to be true.

how can i be student, yet still be teacher?
difficult? i do nothing but change how i live to example what i’ve learned and no longer believe to be true.

how can i love others this way?
easy? i do nothing but love myself in all conditions to example that duality, more or less, is always true.


Thoughts
In my youth, I’d get angry at my grandmother for being kind to folks I thought she should smack in the head. It’s what I’d grown up watching, so back then, some part of me felt violence was warranted. Hell, even now, the thought of smacking a person in the head crosses my mind, but only to get to the other side.

It seemed as if my grandmother let the whole world walk over her, but in adulthood, I’d look back and see it differently. I’d see how she separated herself, and I’d come to think that was her method of keeping herself. She enjoyed being around others, and though always in a crowd; she seemed to keep two leading roles – servant and listener.

Although feeling like her student, I didn’t necessarily believe what she was teaching since letting people walk all over me hurt. I thought she had a mind lined with steel and a heart made of cotton. I thought mine was fashioned with jello and pink frosting, melting in all situations, instead of hardening to stay together.

Meeting upon the teachings of priests, prophets, and saints, I found that all seemed to be like her in some way or another, but only one unclothed member of the clergy led me to put it all together.

That one I wanted to touch, and he led me to the question of

“How can I love (them, the world, you) best?”

That question led me through places I imagined my grandmother went through to arrive at the peaceful position she appeared to operate within. It led me to the question of

“How can I love (me) best?”

Perhaps we love best through honoring the process and results of our baking in all conditions, creating separately from what others order or want to taste, such that flavors are always edible to self.

The one I wanted to touch has ultimately touched me, by swimming through jello and moving fingers through curvy paths of warm pink frosting, and he is my guru.


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