Sometimes something might catch your eye, yet even so you might still dismiss your own awareness…
Day 456: Welcome 2: A Statue of Zero
Coming from the outskirt hills and into town, I look down from the fly-over, and through the window of an Audi showroom, and see a statue of a zero; just a detail flashing by, something from the edges of the urban landscape, that soon slips out of view, while our vehicle becomes immersed in the interiors, where buildings crowd us in, streets and crossroad lights, and my attention is absorbed by close up things, pedestrians and billboards, a mynah bird, a pot-hole, the antics of a truck in front of us straddling both lanes. And yet I carry in my mind that statue of a zero, undecided whether or not to let it go.
What significance or value had I seen within those words? Looking at it now I see that it was as if what had woken up in me was that part of me, call it say the poet of my youth, who in relationship to words would recognise a movement, or a signature, like a seed of inspiration, seen within plain sight; that in moving me in a certain way, I then took it as a recognition of a hidden key to a different understanding, where back then I would devote myself to an exploration of the chemistry of the words involved, and I would experiment with this seed as if it were a new-found catalyst, see what else might open up around it, see if it might perhaps become a poem, or an opening up of something in a world that seemed so closed.
So in a way contained within that question of whether or not to just let go of what had caught my eye, that seed of ‘A statue of Zero,’ was the question of what to do with this part of me, that I had let recede into the distance of my life, a part of me that was actually still alive and well within me, where in my mind and in my relationship to me, now I see how much I believed that I had superseded it, and overruled it, judged this part of me as immature, almost like as if that parts of me were objects in the landscape of my life that I was passing by, justified and maybe also partly driven by a definition of myself as in being a man, having put away those childish things.
And so yes, I brought it with me, saved it for later on to have a look at, and what I see is changed in me is that the chemistry of words now has other aspects for me; where once I started from a mystery and was satisfied to end in mystery; in which a poem for me was something floating in the air offering a glimpse of greater depth; that in this example of A statue of Zero, where I had picked up on a resonance, where that resonance for me was enough within itself, like seeing for a moment the synchrony of the physical world with words and with my life, and then simply as a child, celebrating that; not seeing that mixed into this resonance were also tones of loss and of regret that seemed to validate a song of life and give it weight; that in the resonance there was a reference to my childish self for whom emotion was the deep reality.
So for myself and for that child, to whom emotion was the deep reality: I bring that part of me to me here now, and live this welcome to this part of me; I give myself the choice of how I am to relate and also to respond, and listen to that childhood story of a world that seemed to me back then to have missed and driven past the point, and left behind a wasteland littered with the fragments of a poem; and so within myself acknowledging this child I bring to me, that rather than reject and leave behind this child, instead I recognise this underlying passion, though it has expressed through anger and regret and self pity, and that I have justified it through a belief of chemistry that came from an acceptance of emotion as the current language of the world; so what I leave behind instead is this relationship with me in which I was reacting to myself and judging me, I forgive myself for standing for a reality that was actually not real, and support instead this primary standing.
I support this part of me that looks out through the window of a car and catches on a Statue of Zero as an expression of myself, as part of me that still shows up in my perceptions, as a seed that can open up into an understanding of a part of me that was unacknowledged, by me, and then became a chapter of my life that seemed in retrospect to be like a wasteland littered with the fragments of a poem.
This is all quite personal and specific: after all, it is my Journey into Life, yet what can happen to a life when that lack of self acknowledgement is projected out upon the world is an aspect of my story here, and what I’m sharing here is also an example of the outplay of a redefinition process of the word Steadfast, and of Welcome as my choice of words to walk as I come to realise to what extent my relationship with me is actually in my hands, and here, my choice to either judge myself and walk away from parts of me or else to welcome me, and in that opening of a welcome, give me space to understand myself, and through that understanding, reunite myself.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to live with an acceptance of a dis-honouring of part of me by me, and I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to live acceptance of that.