I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole,
When the night had veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
For example: being punched in the face and swimming in open waters.
As for how, to my knowledge there’s only one way to overcome any fear and that’s exposure to the fearful stimulus. e.g. One loses (at least greatly reduces) fear of being hit by sparring.
One bitter winter afternoon --
Locked under skies so low and gray --
The city slowed in cold cocoon
As what verve remained slid away.
And then the clouds, they broke apart,
And frozen souls began to thaw.
But some needed not the sun's kickstart
To free themselves of winter's maw.
What was their secret? I wish I knew.
To be happy sans the skies of blue.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
A practice of feeling gratitude is extremely beneficial in that regard. Simple meditative practices help one become aware of thoughts and feelings more quickly, before they are fed through rumination, making the down-spiral cycle easier to disrupt.
And, sometimes, I rant. This usually veers quickly into comedic territory and I’m reminded of the ridiculousness of taking human life too seriously, given the absurdity of being primates in pants who love shiny things. (It would be unimaginable if human life weren’t absurd.)
A loose shard of thought
Flips and twists about in
My brain,
Poking sensitive tissue,
And sending firestorms
Riffling through my circuitry.
I can't really say I feel each
Prickle or pierce, but they
Do make me wince, sometimes.
I found bliss.
And cooked it on the
simmer setting
of my soul --
That vacant hole that
I let swell with color
and light.
My only worry was that
it would flash fry all
that I am.
But one worry is enough
to kill the joy,
to kill everything vibrant
& reckless within.
The bliss was quenched,
and it steamed & sizzled,
and all I could hear was its
deafening sound.
When are you most happy?
When I allow myself to be. Hope you weren’t looking for an answer like, “Wednesdays between 4 and 7 pm.”
the lion looks cross,
but, perhaps, it’s just a mask.
who knows the lion’s mind?
The need to break free of the program -- e.g. to be master of fear & anger, not slave to them.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 