What Socrates Should’ve Said


We’ve got to get back

to the truth

about our feelings.


This is neither easy

nor appealing;

otherwise, anyone could do it.


It requires a stamp

in our passport

of vulnerability

with the destination

of self-awareness.


Why else do you think

people sneak across the border

into the Stepford land

of political correctness?


Believing we are perfectly loved

and more than enough

when we feel like giving up

is tough.


Knowing yourself

isn’t just knowing what you don’t know.


It’s recognizing

every thought triggers an emotion,

leaving you feeling either high or low,

uniquely exceptional or uniquely dull.



call out the biggest Minotaur

under your bed

in the dark

not afraid to die a martyr,

a martyr infused

with a divine spark.


Sometimes monsters

of our own making

show up relentlessly

until we look introspectively

at the mess we’ve made

when we’ve felt incarcerated

without the possibility of parole

as both our own judge and jury.


What shapes do our feelings take?

Are they bandits of joy

or bastions of light?


What colors do they like to make?

Are they a mosaic

of multidimensional shades

or a monolithic dye

so dark that upon sight,

the soul cannot escape

its void of breath and life?


A cage-match of emotions

is what’s at stake.


The truth is more

than just eternal;

it’s not an afterthought

but a thought incarnated,


with pungent smells

of frankincense and myrrh

the wise men wisely brought.


Let’s finally talk through

the things that light you up,

that trigger you

and tease you

till you end up

sick-and-tired of drinking

the dregs in your cup.


Fear of pain

is not the same

as fear of going insane.


Not all our feelings

tell the truth about what’s real.


Our desire for perfection

perpetuates our longing

for protection of the ideal.


Why does the truth scare you?


Why does the truth scare me?


What if I told you

the answer to our greatest fear

is inevitably the same

no matter your politics

or what you proclaim,

your race,

religion or name?


“Upon this rock

I will build my church,

and all the powers of hell

will not conquer it.”


But what if?


We’re terrified of letting God

be the foundation to everything

we love and hold dear.


It’s more than a thought.

It’s a trigger,

a trigger to our greatest fear.


So what do we do from here?


We’ve got to get back

to the truth

about our feelings.


What Socrates should’ve said,

“The beginning of knowledge

is wisdom,

the wisdom of knowing myself.

I’m just a man,

brilliant but limited.



my moral philosophy—

no matter how quick-witted

or well-suited—

never brought a living soul

(not a lark or a man)

back from the dead.”

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Myriam Delagneau
Myriam Delagneau
4 months ago

Very impressed my Son. ‍♀️

4 months ago

Whoa! That was incredible!


Friends feed the inherent desire in every single one of us to be seen and heard and remembered. And that makes us feel immovable and immortal as if the universe itself came alive to witness a miracle. And nothing we say or do will ever be forgotten. (This hints at the foreshadowing of a personal relationship with the ultimate Being—immovable and immortal—who is closer to us than a brother and who created us to know Him and to be known by Him.) But what if this convivial concept of friendship escapes us?

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if you’ve dropped your keys,

hat or hash pipe

into the “rabbit hole”

of delusive fantasy,

whirling and writhing down

an eternal abyss of insanity,

further and further away

from the drain of objective reality.

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Our reassurance

is His willingness

to be caught in the cross hairs,

a red dot

at the intersection

of an atoning fare

and a predetermined time-slot.

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