Death of an Egotist

September 25, 2007

Soft, what bit of Shakespeare
Can I apply to this moment of my life?
Surely the Bard has words aplenty
On human frailty and endless need.
What wisdom can I pull from the pages of the Greats
Who populate the world with
Anti-heroes
Humble peasants
Prophets and warriors
And maybe, somewhere, someone like me?
Psychology tells me "ego boundaries" decide
Where I end and others begin.
Despite simplicity of key terms, there is no set line.
(That was the Alamo, enviable in a way.)
Today my ego boundaries are "permeable."
If you approach me, I'll let you in
But be prepared to confuse me
When I realize I've grown to need you as much as you need me.
Oh bleeding heart that soon needs staunching by the wound giver.
Where is the staunch MacBeth with his bloody hands?
Boundaries resilient, confirmed, no permeation.
No, I despise his supremacy of self.
Instead, in stead.
To look at someone and see their inherent frailties
To understand and yet truly love
To release the death grip on self, falling, falling
And, continuing sweeter still, to someday reap what you've sown.