I Was That Boy

For A.

I was that boy.

Filled with love and *wonderment

(*a better word twice presented itself as the best descriptive word, but was lost into the ether from not being in a position to write it down. If it shows up, can and will erase the content between these parenthesis)

Smiling at nothing to be smiled at, just an essence constantly rising to the surface.

Happy as a clam at high tide just for being a clam, protected by the waters of consciousness.

Playing with any toy as if it were the greatest toy exploring what it is while learning to use hands and fingers to hold it, coordinating with eyes and ears.

Being able to be oneself with out fear knowing the guides chosen are the best guides, who actually want / get to be guides.

The mirror appeared by circumstance and timing recognizing the lost soul / self within myself. Wondering if I could ever recapture and be that “self” or was it too…..(like the “best” word) lost into the ether?

A grandson opted to plop himself between myself and his Nana, when it occurred to me, that I was once that boy.

Something inside me told me I still was / am.

Was it beaten out of me? No.
Was it molested out of me? No.

Was it systematically drained through the repetition of deception, coerced into servitude in exchange for artificial love and pseudo affection? Yes.

By people who were obligated by society to be guides who would have much rather been doing something else. Anything else.

Was it constantly registered that its only value was based on the revenue it generated trading labor for dollars. In a constant state of busyness for the sake of being busy? Yes.

Perhaps this blog is that quest to find that “self” as many posts question the existence of God. Which in turn question my own existence and relevance.

Do I need to retrain my brain or search for that heart to get to the heart of the matter?
So that I may matter to those who matter.

Or will I be like the fading light in the center of an old black and white *TV, once its energy is exhausted……disappear?

*(For you young-uns, Googling that reference will get you nowhere)

Maybe the closest technological comparison would be that of watching the battery percentage meter on whatever electronic device countdown from 3….to 2….to 1 before it is “dead”.

Only time will tell, if I can / may be that boy. Knowing a self made path is as long or as short as one makes it.

“Just an observation,
Maybe I need
Different glasses.”
.
Angelo Devlin