Self Belief – Soul Knowledge

Posted on by J.T. Homesley

Ego is tricky business. But don’t let that fool you into thinking it’s an accident. It isn’t. Nothing in existence is. Ego especially. Self-belief. Confidence. Soul and body dance. Energy that is timeless, moving in a biomechanical cocoon that will inevitably break open too soon. And ego. Just might be the only shape the energy that is you knows to take. Self-belief. Soul-knowledge. An overabundance of spiritual confidence. Walking on coals. Stepping into the unknown. Ego allows you to break the thick mold of ceaseless self preservation. The little liar in your heart who tells you you’ll be fine. Go ahead and take off on an adventure. No one has landed one before. But then again, there has never been anyone quite like you.

It’s like the cape on a superhero’s back. It’s like their tight little red underwear. It’s like the only shield police officers carry are badges. Symbols. Ego was the only thing the Wizard of Oz had to offer the last four pilgrims to his temple.

Whatever it takes to get you to fake just enough confidence to put a foot through the door.

And more, eyes open, head forward, take on a world of villains who by all means are probably shaping their identity purely in unveiled attempts to antagonize yours.
You can’t adopt it all the time, and you definitely dare not abandon it either. Ego.
Being functionally egotistical. It’s like a raincoat. Just enough to persuade you to step out into the rain. But if you wear that raincoat all day, you can bet on sweat. You might have been better off without a coat at all. But you’re egotistical. Your belief in yourself is astounding. The whole wide world full with starving people. Every day they get a little thinner. And you. To them.
Look just like chicken dinner.

Ego should be light as feathers. Subtle as spurs. The spark of orange fire in the eye.
Everyone wants you for the worst of reasons. But that doesn’t exempt you from being.
Ego has every reason to stay quiet, sleep in. Stay hidden. But it doesn’t. No.
Ego wakes up and crows.
People say good morning.

Ego says I know.

You’re welcome.

Worst Hiker Ever

Posted on by J.T. Homesley

Climbs hundreds of feet in a single hour, with his two.
Carries a quarter his body’s weight.
Groans like an old man when he sits up or stands down.
Knees dryly creak across dry creeks and he sits on logs and logs.
Butt in a round impression on an iceberg-buried rock. Good.
And cool. And lichen spotted. And dog drool.

Feet worse than snakes about shedding off all their skin. Three hundred in.
Talking miles. Mouth flapping open smiles.
Words work mystic magic over rocky ground
and poisoned leaves of three in faded yellow speckled bouquettles.

Boots.
One boot to stop you.
Two boots can set you free.
Tied up tight. Below the knees.
Harden your sole.

Faster than a speeding pullet chased by foxes after all she’s got,
to the very top, in a single hour, or at least a couple
firewood bundled all tight together.

He is quite possibly the worst hiker ever.

But he breaks hundreds of feet in half dividing them by two.
He draws sugar from the sun lips puckered on the run.
And eats dinner with boulders and calls oaks sisters and brothers
and makes believe nature holds a candle to his own mother.

He is yours. He is not super. But he is here. He understands.
He is here to under-stand. Not long on top of. Under. Stand under.
Under Stand. This is no child of the gods.
What we have here is the restless little brother of Man.