The Writings Of Tao Writer – Being Human

Tao Writer (April 17, 1948 -)

Being Human

I am and have been a philosopher, poet, artist, revolutionary, student, mystic, teacher, listener, father, grandfather, brother, traveler, prophet, husband, son, child, man, writer, dreamer, lover, and friend. I have never been an enemy of anyone, nor have I the desire to be. At different points during this span of life, I have played all of these roles, often times collectively. I grew into all of these parts of me. I walked in their shoes. I wrote their words. I journeyed with them to other worlds on mushroom trips and ecstasy. We shared joints, beers, and whiskey shots. We hiked through forests, skied down snowy mountain sides, and snorkeled beneath the sea. We crossed continents on a bicycle, walked miles on empty roads, and saw from above this diminishing world. We stared for hours at the dark night sky praying to see just one shooting star. We sat alone in quiet, peaceful, seemingly endless meditations in cold, dark rooms and in warm, sunlit fields. We challenged authority, succumbed to beauty more times than I remember, and fell in love at least twice a day. I was not born with any of these personas. I was born human, Black, and male. I will leave this world being so much more. Life, I found, is a joy constantly unfolding.