The Way

When you begin to follow the Way, you think that It will be tubular, like a wave to surf or like a water slide at an amusement park, the excitement mounts as you swim out, or as you climb the stairs, and you anticipate that with a whoosh, stomach dropping, you’ll arrive at the end of the run, just letting It do Its Thing. It should not be difficult, should It?

But the Way is not tubular, dude, it’s just a┬áround hole in a plain plane, with eternal depth

(Whatever that means, “eternal”)

I am a square peg

Try as I may, it’s never quite a fit

I’m either too small, I slip and fumble about within the Way, grasping nothing,

Traction-less, spinning free and free-falling, not even believing I can fill the space enough to touch the circumference at my own four corners, or,

(more often) I’m too large, over-sure, arrogant,

unable to wedge myself into It at all.

The Way’s diameter never changes. I am the one who is inconsistent.

I am the one in need of endless calibration.

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