Searching for the Voice in the Wilderness

Very few things remain in a state of purity as you get older. Fewer still are the things you want to keep that way over time. People don't seem to want to talk about the workings of their own heart, the truths they hold in their minds. Maybe the acquired day to day habits of societal roles and instinctive tendencies to social self preservation get in the way. But every now and then, you want to break free. You want that breath of fresh air. You want life. All that boxed up fastfood junk is just another type of dying.

If you found that breath of air, that wellspring of everflowing water, would you not try to care for it as best you could? Keep it pure from this world you know to be corrupt? Would it not be wise to make sure that the hope you found is guarded much more than any of your other possessions?

Such a difficult line to walk. Already so many roads laid out before me yet none of them inspire my feet to walk on them with confidence. There must be a path that is not made my the hands and minds of men. They want me to trade the the symphony I hear from the distance for the noisy clangs of their mouths and propaganda. They want me to trade the few true things I have for a statistic and public ceremony.

Maybe I am a fool. But I think a greater fool than I would be one who falls into a hole they just crawled out from. Maybe I still don't understand. But is moving towards the ways of other men without my understanding better than my hesitation to decipher truth and good company?

....

"We need to find the courage to say NO to the things and people that are not serving us if we want to rediscover ourselves and live our lives with authenticity." - Barbara De Angelis

The Day

I will taste the flight of the free and the fight of the brave.
The weightless conscience and the pure breath of purpose
will consume this tired and anguished flesh;
give birth and find it born again.
The knees that bow to a Saviour will find its rest,
when finally the heart is heard not just from its beating chest.
This is the battle. This is the fight.
This is all I've come to know to be the truth of life.
Though victory may be absent from the eyes of men,
These judgments shall no longer hold my care.
Today, I may be broken, but a coward I will be no longer.

....

"It's not so much that we're afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it's that place in between that we fear . . . . It's like being between trapezes. It's Linus when his blanket is in the dryer. There's nothing to hold on to." -Marilyn Ferguson

The Quiet

So I'm on a boat on the way home. Didn't tell too many people about this trip simply because I'll only be around for a day or two and I've really got stuff on my mind. It's been a lot of years since things have changed- since I've changed, and in a day or two I'm going to let some people in on what those changes have been.

I expect the worst. It's my nature. I'm a pessimist, but not really the hopeless kind. What I mean by that is that I anticipate negative outcomes just so I can plan ahead on those eventualities if they arise. The only problem with that is, way before that eventuality actually occurs, I already live in the emotional trauma of what that outcome would be like.

It doesn't seem too long ago, being alone in my dorm room in my first year of college, looking for the truth. Looking for something honest. It doesn't seem too long ago when I said my prayer.

But then I remember all the stuff I've gone through. The secret things. The painful things. Loves and friends lost. The crumbling of dreams and expectations. The tolls no one really knew I had. The death of the dreamer. Then yes I realize, it has been such a long time afterall.

I'm glad I took the boat. Aside from the fact that flying scares me, I've found some semblance of peace and clarity so evasive from everywhere else I am. I can can almost say that I am unafraid.

I don't know what's going to happen. I'm not going to think anymore. I just know where I've been. And I am tired.

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"A lie would have no sense unless the truth were felt to be dangerous." - Alfred Adler