There are times when I just want to let go, to say “fuck it all” and move on. The stress builds, the anxiety presses hard on my temples, and I can feel the pit of despair throb deeply in the pit of my Being.
I wonder what is there is store for me? Is it destitution? Is it poverty? Is it the loss of everything I once held dear?
The struggle is mighty, and it weighs on me. I’ve found so much love in my soul as I’ve struggled before, is there something I am yet missing? Have I not so completely embraced the path of love and surrender that I cannot surrender yet these paltry things?
What do you want from me? I scream to the empty sky. Who do I need to be? Where do I need to go? To what end will you find solace for this tired body, this weary mind, this tattered heart? What must I give just to find the peace I deserve?
Nothing, whispers the morning wind. Everything, shouts the open sea.
I fall to my knees. Not in prayer, but in resignation. Maybe they are one in the same, maybe they are totally different. The clouds are born from that open sea, yet owe it nothing save the drops of rain that give my ocean life renewed. Those clouds owe it nothing, yet give it everything.
The mud embracing my softened knees remind me. Here is a place neither sand nor sea, yet a lot of both. The sand does not complain when it gives itself to the sea, and the sea offers no resistance as it settles in places it is not.
There is no place I am not, suggests the sea. I am everywhere, and I am everything. I am there because I don’t hold back, I don’t resist. I owe nothing, but I give everything.
Humans are different, or so we are taught. We need things in which to live. We dedicate our lives to such things, and we often sell our souls to maintain any part of this humanity. Fuck…which game do I play now?
I’ll leave it be. I’ll do what I can and watch things lay themselves out. I’ll meditate more to get rid of this shakiness. I work out to protect my body. I lose what I must and move where I will. It is the way…