The list of lives I want to live keeps getting longer. The list of people I want to meet keeps expanding. There is so much that can be done, there are way too many moments to be lived that the mere thought about those paralyzes me. Does it paralyze you?
I find that writing does something for me, it helps me deal with it, it appeases my soul; and guards my mind against a sense of futility that cannot be escaped the older I get. See we entertain ourselves left and right, whether by going out and drinking our lights out or eating, or…the list goes on, to each his own. We distract our selves from a dryness, a bitterness that can only be uncovered in the stillness, that can only be tasted in the air when you are by yourself, captive to the lonesomeness of time you have no control over. All that we do helps us hush out the chaos that could easily unfold the second we let go. Except I dare ask, what if we let go?
What happens if you do let go of the wagon? might you fall off? might you remain at the forefront if you just stop doing it all? If you look away from the distractions, what will you find? Is it a life you want to live?
You see there are always two tracks at least, to how an event can unfold. Time will most definitely remain the same, the clock ticks away and you get one redeeming card that is ever renewed. You choose this or that, you decide on this activity or that, you weigh your options, you dive in, you stumble, whatever your usual method of living is, you just do it continuously and repetitively enough that it becomes your life.
We are not what we do, we are not what we eat, we are not who we see, we are not the dreams we have, we are not the time we waste. Or are we?
The fragility of our existence is astounding, and I know that we can feel invincible so easily. What do we make of a brilliant collision between fragility and invincibility, what lay in the very core of that? Maybe I have a dream somewhere in between those words, one that allows me to glide over the edges of those two conditions and live without deception, not just live, but document the atrocities of my mind and the frivolous buds of beauty that arise in the midst of that struggle.
The spiritual journey gets lonely, it also gets boundless, and limitless, so one must truly keep sight, and track the route; because it is surely not as simple as just closing one’s eyes and finding glory within. Within us are memories, truths, lies, pains, struggles, wonders, blessings and endless paths into a singular freedom.
Here I am, telling you and myself about it, just in case.