I have the vaguest memories of learning how to ride a bike.

Do I recall the sensation of my dad hanging on to the seat,
guiding me,
holding me steady,
looking back and seeing him gone,
and crashing because I suddenly realized no one was in control?
(who’s driving this thing, anyhow?)
Or because it makes for a good, true, and commonly told story?

That’s how it goes though,
The memory of how I learned something fades
And is replaced with knowledge I don’t remember not knowing.

I play the piano
Often enough to remind myself that it’s something which will always make my heart smile
But not as often as I think I should
(However often is often enough to satisfy the should monsters)
I’ve been asked more than once
Can you teach ?

My answer is always no, I cannot teach
because I don’t recall what it is not to know
So I can’t imagine where to start.

Knowing how to play does not mean knowing how to teach
That applies to myself as readily as anyone else.
When I get locked in a spin of

I think I know this…

It’s interesting to me that spin
should be used as a way to make a story seem plausible
To further the agenda of power.
Words which contain the capacity for clarity,
corrupted in the name of propaganda.

A dark twist on the way a dervish twirls
To find god.

The wheel turns
And Rome falls
Civilizations laid to dust
And we’re caught in the cycle
Of thinking we’re the first person
To ever fall off a bike.

Today’s deck is the Temperance Tarot which is very interesting.