An Onion

Spiritual training is challenging—
as with everything, particularly  
when you don't know the answer
to that gnawing thing. . .
 
But, if you show up every day—
just show up, regardless  
whether or not you understand. . .
the Universe will be waiting  
 
The answers? They come  
in due course, oft times after the lesson
through some mundane chore  
such as chopping an onion—
 
until you reach its rotten core  
 
Then there's the separating
spoiled from healthy, washing
away lingering traces of decay
ensuring you don't consume
 
It can be timely, interrupts  
our habitual rhythm
But, that's the point—
you're forced to stop, take a close look . . .
 
until you recognize yourself in the chaos  
 
Realize that putrescent part
of you holding onto guilt and regret
over something you've done—
or wished you had . .
 
the persistent part whispering,  
You don't deserve Love  
is nothing but decomposition;  
 
but, remember the onion—
there's three-times more good  
inside of you than any necrose
that can easily be removed—
 
leaving you deserving of Love  
and anything you could ever choose
~