Friday, December 3, 2010

Don't Go to Hinksville

Oh I don't want to move to Hinksville,

The life they lead there is no damn good,

They like to tell you God is love,

But they'd kill you if they could.

I love ride this old blue marble

As it spins its' way through space.

I'd much rather sit on a grassy hill

And stare at my own true face.

No, I'm not moving to Hinksville,

For it's just a state of mind.

Where we think our thoughts unkind

And the blind deceive the blind.

My friend Barry Briggs over at has been running a thoughtful and thought provoking series this week on the topic of Wrong Speech. So I post this poem today with more than a bit of trepidation. It's pretty much a grumble about the daily world of samsara, the unhappy realm where we all spend far too much time. You all know the place, where we say one thing and think or do another, and where we impose our expectations on others in a similar fashion. I hope I'm not bringing you down, dear reader, with this rather negative meditation on one of our more unfortunate states of mind.

It is the hope, however, of all who practice mindfulness, to escape the snares of samsaric mind and dwell instead in the reality of the present moment, free from the self-deceit that makes Hinksville such a pain in the butt! Free to enjoy the ride on this lovely blue marble.

Today's image is an uncredited work I found on: