I Cry

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' I cry for self, tears of doubt as i follow my soul

I cry for you, tears of helplessness
as we all follow our path alone

I cry for us, tears of joy, for we are together

I cry for soul, tears of life, each tear a miracle '

~ ki ~

I CRY FOR THEE

I cry for you. I cry for me. I do not really know why I cry, sometimes. And other times, I know quite well. This thing we call life is quite an experience. I am not sure we give it the attention it deserves, what with the complexities of what has come to be known as the 'daily grind'. Our lives are a wondrous adventure, and we only capture such a small part of the opportunities that are available to us, each and every day. And the sad observation is that these pleasures are not only numerous, but in almost every case, they are yours for the taking, free of charge.

Be it evolution or God, or both, I really do not care. The greatest gift man will ever receive is to discover life through his own abilities, his own senses. The beauty that we can see with our own eyes, if we take the time to look, can be breathtaking and has no boundaries. The people and the textures that we can touch bring us an intimacy with the essence of life that has no equal. The sounds of the forest and the creation of music brings a profound peace to our souls. The tastes of life are both extraordinarily varied and at times sensual. And the ability to perceive all of these things through the sense of smell makes them all that much more memorable and enjoyable.

I cannot help but cry in pleasure for the chance to experience such fantasy. And I can do it again and again. Everyday. Wherever I am. Whenever I wish. Is that not a reason to cry in joy?

At the same time, my joy turns to sorrow for those that not only do not try to find a way to bring that pleasure into their lives and their souls, but mostly for those that do not even have the ability to use some of those senses for their own enrichment.

To not see! To not hear or taste! I cannot comprehend a life without these abilities, and I truly cry for those that will never experience the ability to enjoy such pleasures in life. And this does not even take into account those people, all around the world, many through no fault of their own, who destiny has placed in the worst possible situations. Where the ability to enjoy life, even with senses that work perfectly, has been restricted to such a degree, that they barely seem to exist.

The children of poverty, and abuse. The victims of war and oppression. Those that live at the whim and dictates of the worst kind of human beings ever to walk the face of this earth. I find myself hiding from the reality, behind protective walls of self-preservation, just to exist sometimes. How can I enjoy those pleasures of the senses, when such pain and suffering exist? How can I not cry for each and every one of them? So I do. If the world was just populated by nothing but 'me's', these things would never come to be, but it would be a boring place indeed, especially for me.

But there are not only the five senses. Some people say six (which is where I reside). Others say seven. Or nine. It goes all the way to twenty-one. It may be an overthink of sorts, or maybe not. I have given it some thought, but continue to revert back to my comfortable six. Most of the others are offshoots of the originals. The sense of time certainly deserves consideration. If I entertain a seventh, time it would be. So what exactly would be that sixth sense? What could possibly be as beneficial and satisfying as the other senses?

The bottom line is that we need to organize all of the information that we are gathering through these external senses and for want of a better word, make 'sense' out of all these experiences. Not everyone enjoys the same tastes. Mushrooms, mayo, hot peppers, meat, whatever. Some people love it, some people hate it. Some could not care less. But why? Isn't it all 'a good thing'? It is the same thing with visuals. For some people, a waterfall is to die for. Others love the city. Art. Monet or Dali? Abstract or realism? Smells. Touch. Same things. And music? You could not be further apart with opinions on rock, classic, opera, and rap. Why isn't everything beautiful, or soothing, or tasty? Why isn't everything a good thing?

We are all different. We make choices every day. We make decisions to make our lives work for us. And we use our sixth sense to do so. From my perspective, it is the lynchpin of the senses. The great computer in our heads. Our mind. We think.

We take the totality of our experience and find structure. Our mind processes everything and we come up with options. Those options translate into choices, and finally, decisions. What we value. What we think is good. It is the power of the mind. It is the power of thought. It is the power of philosophy. It becomes our template for our path through life. It gives us direction and purpose. It supports us and sustains us through whatever difficulties confront us.

And it tells us when to feel, and it tells us when to cry.

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I Cry