Bristol- Croyton, UK

Whereís the sense of belonging?
The part where I fit in?
Could I be making this all up?
Casting myself apart by means of old behavior
An old behavior that Iíve never allowed to grow old
A rowboat tied behind the bus, dragged bouncing along the motorway
With itís own dark black cloud overhead
The ticket written in my own hand
What is at play here?

The holder of a checklist, every box ticked
Get out, get out, get out
The job, the tour, the life, my head?
Competence and bright spots only confuse me
I should be writing prayers, capturing the lessons
Of God, growing , learning, feeling joy
Laughing, crying, helping others, living, moving
Standing still
My heart strong and able
Only see shadows
What have I become?

I think it is a valid question
Iíve come so far with the spirit
Is it going to waste or am I missing the point?

I must hold some truths evident:
I am not my job;
Never work for your heroes;
Turn to self and you get what you pay for;
Look for differences and youíll feel alone;
Try to survive and youíll only survive;
Respect yourself or be unable to respect anything.

I need a transfusion of loving kindness
And the willingness to be of service, not just to serve
To stroke and be stroked
Iím beginning to hear the voices of the ones
Who canít say it enough
ďHappiness is an inside jobĒ

Now I just feel selfish and small
Perhaps this exercise has helped
Tomorrow is another chance to try again
Not with extremes, but with balance and love
Gratitude not compliance
With a heart and not a tongue.