a man of convenience

he is one of those who ponders
while others dare to live,
who dreams of embraces
he will surely never know

when anyone cares to listen
he strives to facilitate thought
while his own vague needs
remain ever undefined

he has learned how to say
“yes” and “of course”
and “you certainly should”
but little else besides

he accepts the role he plays
obedient to the whims
of their insouciant loves
fed by his solicitous heart

and yet he must confess
these days are not so pointless
so long as those who speak
have something more to say

he will listen in eager attitude
conveying all the concern
their somewhat aggrieved souls
may choose to perceive

he does know, after all
that there is comfort yet
in remaining such a man
of exceptional convenience

Salt Lake City 21 Feb 2013

19 thoughts on “a man of convenience

    • Yes, living with convenience–living a convenient life–is so far from compelling. It becomes ever more difficult to take the next step.

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  1. Well…come what may…being the constant in the lives of those around, may not be ‘exciting’ but, it is important beyond excitement and more noticeable in the impression on their hearts. It is, a solid deep life of trust.

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    • If that were only true, RL. I must agree with you, yes, but sometimes the impression we make on the hearts of others is vague indeed. Nearly impossible to tell. I am no saint, but a selfish man. I am a teacher. I spend my days working, studying, trying to help others achieve their goals. They smile at this. And laugh. We work hard together. They say kind things and I am so happy to see them grow into their new lives. And at the end of the day, they return to those lives, to their families, to the people who really matter to them. While I return home to four walls crowded with books, and words that fill my thoughts. And fantasies of a very different life.

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      • I am sorry and realized some time ago the realities of your present life… However… I find it interesting…those of us with lives so packed with people crave a little solitude. Those with solitude crave less of it…
        Life feels like a balancing act and a strain of all worlds converging and colliding and at every turn, we feel frustration and pain. Only small precious moments of calm.
        For instance, not kidding, my son is wrapped about my neck as I type this.
        My daughter is pretending she is visiting from Africa, which is ‘across the street’ … And I’m dying to write and need to steal time for it.
        All things come with time and patience and perseverance. And I hope you do find what you seek, for surely, another seeks you, your mind and attention and company. The trick is… Do you admire them as fondly. And life has a way, of twisting that at times too.
        But. I have faith that unselfishness leads to the best gifts to, ourselves.

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    • Thank you so much, Tonia. I wish I could be more humble. And more serene. My heart beats too much these days, while I struggle to calm it.

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  2. So enjoyed this, George….a poem of heart felt by anyone who nurtures. I think the cure is in the smaller acts of alertness and creativity, informed only by the moment. And the wilder abandon of nurturing ourselves.

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    • So well said, J.H. And keenly felt. There are moments in this journey–moments of utter clarity when the mind grows very calm and the heart expands so readily. Then am I grateful. Then I understand. And those smaller acts take on such natural relevance. Sometimes building upon each other, sometimes simply in and of themselves. Sincere moments. Simple sincere moments. I hold them close.

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    • Susan, I am sorry for responding so late to this. I am so grateful for your presence here and your ever encouraging words. I too feel blessed to be able to come here, read your writing, and explore the thoughts and feelings that your words inspire in me. Thank you, my friend.

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  3. You have embraced your words, and your voice is heard, George. The mystery of humans—I need the answer too. A good heart is occupied beneath all this, and this creation is far more better than plastic obedience. Unfolding moments are working through their hours, and to live, to see, the person is creating his choice. The same good heart would live, if revelation arrives after sharing a dialogue with others.

    It is a masterpiece, priceless feelings, George.
    Blessings and love.

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    • Blessings to you, my dear friend. Such gentle kindness you convey. And I know you, too, understand the dangers of, as you say, “plastic obedience.” I hope you are constructing your path of honest intent and unadorned earth. May the stones and trees and grasses green ever guide your steps.

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