On Becoming

The tests of survival in today’s state of economy, culture and employ seem ever more challenging than in the past. When I was young I used to think I was born in the wrong age and longed for a simpler, more basic existence of life closer to the earth. Then after I got married we bought a farm. Life did not ease up. Working a full time job, raising a family and living by the earth was more than my sanity could reconcile at times.

There were lots of new directions since then, but every one was a choice of intent with the goal of understanding better true meaning in life. And I have come to find that life on this planet never gets simpler without the realization that true life is one of a higher bearing.

Yesterday in a meeting at work, in discussion of managing our workload during a twice-yearly, pre-conference ramp-up, our manger said, “It is time to act in a more masterful way in all we do.” I see some ease from that level—a stepping back to a place of balance, peace, and being.


Still, we continue in our stride, perhaps more consciously.


A poem:

On Becoming


A song of soul predominates this being.

The fabric of past -- rich,

vibrant,

and worn.

Yet now –

so much to complete,

re-weave,

And in its review -- an overtone

as a summer wind

a forest awakening.

How many years? How many weeks?

In which hour

is the turning?

New pages of cloth,

bleached by the sun,

renewed in autumn’s blessing

and bound in a book of becoming.

The seasons of life try each soul

by the song of divine intent

I am becoming.

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