"To" To pine for something that is no longer, that is gone, or never will be To cry for something in the heart that no one else can know or fully feel To focus energy, time, talent in the things of sorrow, the things creating yearning and desire to yearn all the more To force these things into the trammeled dirt of the soul, the groove of well-worn patterns of thought and emotion Is to court dessication of life's juices and to promise spiritual poverty for the self-afflictor. To feel that no one else can understand, or will understand, To hate with a passionate hate that they will not understand, that they will not do or be for us what we refuse to be for ourselves To sit in loneliness nursing a grudge or a beer or two or three Never once believing that others can be the kinds of friends we need, when we can't be the kinds of friends they need or even we ourselves need: To draw morose and bleak conclusions from these things Is to limit the Creative Potential of our Maker and of ourselves, being half our own makers Is to desecrate the ground made Holy by our very presence, Is to sit in lack of acknowledgement of the Holy and good that lies within. To do these things is a self-indulgence worthy of being called "sin", as it withdraws from self, from God, from others, from all creation in a catatonic myopia of lack-of-love, in fear, apathy, and finally, in Hell. To realize the wondrous choices we have in every moment, with every breath, in every heartbeat and brainwave, To choose love and care going out instead of pity going in, To choose warmth and understanding flowing out instead of woe stagnating, To choose care for others instead of neglect for self Is to choose Living Free instead of Dying Enchanted yet manacled. To be Free .... 9pm, Sun., May 16th, 1998 (c) David Eisenstein