Showing posts with label sorrow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sorrow. Show all posts

Persisting In The Depths

As a warning of sorts I just want to say that I am about to be openly, brutally honest. And it pains me to feel like such a disclaimer is necessary, because I feel like this should not be the case if people were less judgmental and more welcoming and accepting of the thoughts and feelings of others of especially their very own generation, whom they should relate to more than ever.

 Yet I see all the time people openly criticizing others for “being vague” on social media or for “confusing (social media outlet) with your diary.” This strikes me as odd because here are two extremes both seemingly frowned upon by the more general public. But this should not be the case. There should be no imposed limit to the amount of “acceptable” sharing. It troubles me deeply to see this in my own generation, because we in particular should be pioneering this treasure of a communicative outlet and appreciating all that it allows us to share with each other. This is amazing, what we can do on here, how many connections we can maintain and interact and identify with. Absolutely amazing, and I for one cherish every single last glimpse into the minds, into the feelings and emotions of any person I’ve ever met (or haven’t) and have connected with, here on the internet where input ones and zeros amount to so much societal potential. It should not be a stirring pot of judgment and resentment. But if you think I’m mistakenly writing in my diary? Excuse me; I am only trying to share my inner thoughts and feelings with you.

Sometimes people just need an outlet, and an outlet can take so many forms, be it a diary entry, a face-to-face conversation, a blog, a punching bag, a book, a long drive, a phone call, a jog, some painting, some music to make or listen to, a dance floor, a chat room, a puzzle; it could literally be anything. Something makes somebody feel like they have dealt with something, made some progress, and this should not be seized and stomped on and pulled apart because others felt annoyed at having witnessed it. Projecting it outward is an act, deliberately executed, and whether or not you agree with whatever it is, or think it “whiny”, you should respect that brave lunge and feel privileged to have been a recipient of an outward expression.

So I write this, because I feel like I am close to achieving some measure of peace with my particular circumstance at long last, and this outpouring I have been putting such careful thought and consideration and feeling into is, I feel, an important step in the final stages of this progress. So I’m just going to leave this right here, after it’s completed. It will already have served its ultimate purpose whether or not it’s brutally ripped apart or appreciated, the underlying objective being to express oneself, and share a passion… and passion has no bounds.

 And there is a passionate pull, an intense burden so heavy inside me that it’s all I can do to not outwardly portray it. As I’m sure many know, I’ve found quite a lot of success lately: I’ve graduated, I’ve moved, I’ve gotten a good job, I’ve met so many new people, I’ve more deeply connected with so many existing acquaintances, I’ve had so many good times and I have so many places I can call home and so many friends with connections so deep I can’t ever imagine losing touch. I used to endure an entire year before I got the chance to visit friends in Cheyenne for a woefully brief two weeks for vacation. And now that I’ve brought myself into the region, and have spent so much time up there, I begin to feel deprived if I spend those same two weeks without being in town, I’ve re-adapted so fast. The acclimation was startlingly swift, even though I anticipated swiftness.

 But I left behind an unimaginable fortune when I got here; she did not follow me. I did not know if she would, that was the mighty risk I took. But I felt like I needed to be here. It was so deep inside me I couldn’t just brush it off. It tugged at my heartstrings, persistently escalating over eight long years to the point where I had never felt so sure, not about anything. And so went for it, and so I am here. And I am happy; geographically, I feel like I am where I belong. I look around and I just appreciate being here. I swear there is a greater beauty in the skies, in the colors sometimes shining at particular angles of retreating sunlight… perhaps this is due to the altitude difference. I enjoy being physically nearer to the cloud cover overhead, and even the landscape has a certain appreciable quality to it. It’s somehow in the shapes and the colors of the rolling countryside and the mountains so nearby in such contrast to the stretches of plains seem to cast a majestic quality upon everything around; I just adore it all.

 But for all of this, romantically I lost it all. My arms were wide open just in case, and the truths of my most hopeful intentions were, as far as I could judge at the time, made entirely known. In my head it all fit so well: she was having trouble job hunting after her own graduation, a lot of her friends had moved away or were not very responsive, and at such a point in a young life it is perhaps the most opportune time to embark on such a commitment as moving so far and striking out fresh. Yet she stayed and moved on, despite the efforts, despite my attempts to convince her of my hopefulness for us. And I hold no ill feelings toward her at all, of course. It was not ugly in any way. And in a reversed situation I can’t say what I would have done… I feel like I would have gone along, had I been in a similarly uncertain situation, but of course I cannot know, having never been there. So this must be stressed: there are no hard feelings.

 But I close my eyes and there she is, wearing that so-familiar outfit. It is that simple, if I wish to call upon it: in my mind she is unchanging in all of her incredible beauty. And there’s her laugh, so hearty and contagious, and there is that characteristic sparkle in her eyes so hard to look away from. They are ingrained into my memory as deeply as any learned equation. And I drift off to sleep at night and she’s here, or I’m there, or we’re somewhere entirely unfamiliar, but it’s we, and I cannot help but wish with all of my being that I’d wake up and find this to be reality. And her slightest, most gentle touch just effortlessly peels all of the hard-won armor from my skin; I am utterly powerless against her. Sometimes I walk into a room and catch such a brief whiff of a familiar scent that for a fleeting moment she’s right there beside me, and sometimes I hear the faint whisper of a voice so deeply entangled into my mind that she appears in context, bright-eyed and strikingly beautiful as ever. I might taste the gentle touch of her lips upon mine and I imagine the cascades of a thousand waterfalls which cannot possibly manage to drown out the joyful ringing in my head. Such is her legacy to me.

 I’m like a tiny creature cradled in the palms of her gentle hands, gazing up into dark brown eyes so deep as if an entire galaxy could be harbored within. Her slightest breath could topple mountains and turn landscapes to dust. My heartstrings are tangled into every last part of her body and mind, doomed to be tugged every which way with the slightest graceful movement. I would want to follow her anywhere, yet her presence fills the sky from horizon to horizon and churns within the individual grains of dirt beneath my feet as I wander the Earth. If not into her arms then there is nowhere else in particular to go because she is everywhere, is in everything.

But reality, of course, inevitably sinks back in… eventually, as it must, because I must move on as well. There is no other option when you’ve given every last effort you know to express the open invitation for someone. It simply becomes the reality which must be accepted. Our own personal desires may drive every single thing that we do, but our own personal desires do not determine what’s true. They do not themselves alter the separate desires of another person. The sheer force of my will alone cannot influence the situation any further.

 And so I admit now that I do not know how to move on, myself. I don’t know how one does it without eventually coming into another such companionship which works to overtake the one just left behind, smoothing out the “moving on” process. I don’t mean to trivialize the following relationship, but rather to acknowledge the power it could hold in salvation. You shouldn’t seek it out because of this, but because you find it you could be freed. But without that path, I stand at infinite crossroads, no specific path being chosen, and time itself becomes the means by which I move on.

 You hear that time “heals all wounds”. But I don’t believe that time itself should be what gets the credit, rather, I think we just forget how much they hurt. Time is the means by which we ever so gradually lay new, fresher memories and feelings upon the previous. You may forget one as it fades into the ever-receding past, but it will always linger, always persisting in the depths of you, ready to be called upon by random sensory triggers. Such is her reality to me, now. It comes and it goes, it’s fleeting and it’s persistent, it’s vivid and it’s vague, and it’s all of these at once in uncontrollable combinations.

 The frustrating part about it now is that somehow I start to feel guilty if I begin to develop feelings for someone… as if I’ve let myself wander across some boundary I somehow should know I have no place being, even after all these months. And this is silly, I know, but it’s real, and I’m unsure of how to combat it. Because when I have tried so hard to be such good friends with so many incredible people, I then don’t know how to not jeopardize this, how to conclude that -this- particular one could be more somehow, and reciprocated. I feel like I don’t know how to be more than friends with anybody else after all of that, no matter how deeply I want to, or if want to. I don’t even know how ridiculously obvious this might have already been to anyone on the outside.

 But I can say one thing with absolute, unwavering certainty such that I’ve never once been able to say about anything before: it is because of such an intensely emotional investment into this one single relationship I managed to let slip through my fingers that I still, and always will, believe in utter confidence that true love is a thing, is obtainable and is worth every single shred of effort you can put forth to call your own. It is as fragile as it is real, as painful as it is wonderfully blissful, and can be as heavy a burden on the soul as incredibly free as it makes it.

 I do still believe the best is yet to come.

Posted by Unknown | at 10:49 PM | 0 comments

Separated By Oceans



Well these bottles look nice, and cold, and fulfilling
So I wander outside to relax by just sitting
And the darkness descending, it seems sort of fitting
As the sun makes its way out of the bright sky
Kind of like you did when you said goodbye…

As I drain down the first, I feel less afraid
And my thoughts turn to all of those memories we made
So many have not even begun to fade
Your face, and your voice; your laugh, and your touch
I never imagined I could miss them so much…

I had everything resting right there in my hand
But it slipped through my fingers like such fine grains of sand
Ever since I’ve been so lost, stumbling through this wasteland
I can’t even remember why we said goodbye
Sometimes the most beautiful fairy tale goes awry…

As I savor the first few, I explore the vast flow
Of these feelings which seem now to lessen the blow
But I can’t ever relinquish the reality I know
We were beautiful, we conquered, we realized the cost
Yet we fumbled it, somehow, and tripped as it tossed…

It’s getting real dark now, and I can’t fight this worry
As the stars start to shine in all of their glory
For each one’s a memory, a deep-rooted story
I could assign every one, and not even start
To dip into the contents leaking from my heart…

Now I notice some storm clouds coming from the west
As I finish the first half and long for the rest
And remember the feelings never quite expressed
When all of our love was at its most fragile and bare
If only I’d realized the prime time to share…

How could such beauty be left by the side?
Why would we let it escape us with pride?
I don’t even know how many times that I’ve cried
So crazy how all of the words worth the most
Can just linger unspoken and fade like a ghost…

It’s starting to rain now, as my head feels the beers
But I’ll just stay here and reminisce all those good years
At least no one who passes will notice these tears
But I can’t say the same of this pain I still feel
I guess there are some wounds even time will not heal…

Well these bottles are empty; the clouds are still pouring
My poor head is spinning and my sad thoughts are roaring
I can’t say I really look forward to morning
Another long day I’ll spend just going through motions
Through this loneliness now separated by oceans…

Posted by Unknown | at 4:43 AM | 3 comments

The Beauty in Sorrow


 
Do you ever put on a sad song or a sad movie, or get out some old pictures, or watch some old videos, or just sit and reminisce, with the deliberate attempt to feel a certain way? A certain bit of a coordinated sense of longing, or sorrow? Perhaps you’re not quite sure exactly what you want to feel, but you know you want to feel something powerful. Maybe you've just been through some tragic ordeal and you need to relate with something, or maybe you're falling into old memories of long-lost times, just tragically misplaced in this crazy world we inhabit and you merely want to bask in the familiarity that these memories can bring back to the surface. Or maybe you're not even sad at all but just want to enjoy the depths of the emotions on display in these acts. You might just be a little bit lonely and simply want to identify with something you can feel deep inside your core. I, for one, can relate to each of these and I don’t doubt that any reader can as well. Sorrow is one of those things that you can always rely on to fill you with emotions so powerful because your own interpretations of a thing define how much impact it has, and this can be a wonderfully beautiful thing if your will is powerful enough to utilize it toward some gain.

There are of course a vast many causes for one to be sad, ranging from the loss of a dear friend or pet or family member to a tragic breakup or distant memories of some cherished good times…the possibilities extend endlessly in between and on either side of the broad scope of what usually brings us to this place where sorrow broods solitude. They all have their own varying degrees of severity, of duration and depth, but they are all similar in that they belong to the same sort of "family" or class of emotions. They all invoke whatever longing emotions you have attached to them, amplified to whatever extremes by whatever severity they originate from through your personal experiences and the weight of consideration you’ve placed upon them. Sometimes you just want that intensity. It puts you in a particular realm of thought, emotionally, where you can then look upon everything else from a certain unique vantage point that doesn’t exist in the normal routine mindsets that generally occupy your thoughts. And from such a vantage point you can appreciate whatever brought you there so much more deeply, so much more wholeheartedly, even if only in retrospect in order to avoid a recurrence of whatever the source is. This is definitely valuable, but there is so much more to be enjoyed if you have the proper mindset. By no means does such an emotional state have to be entirely a bad thing.

There is a deep-rooted beauty in the musings of sorrow. I've always thought this was a bit strange, a little counterintuitive somehow, although I've felt and appreciated such emotions for as long as I can remember. Positivity buried inside the negative manifests a certain kind of hope and admiration of life. Even when I was a little guy, as early as eight or nine, developing my tastes for my very first “favorite songs,” they tended to be sad ones. And I know now that I didn’t actually even truly understand the depths and the meanings of the songs I adored—I had of course never truly loved, or lost,  friendly or romantically, or been otherwise emotionally damaged or esteemed… but I adored them anyway, even if I was singing along with lyrics I could not possibly comprehend. Looking back, I’m sure that one of the primary reasons was for the certain quality of the vocals in such songs. I had already discovered a love for the emotional display of a singer singing a sad song. There’s something in the voice, in the finest among this class of music, which stands apart, especially when the singer seems to be particularly passionate about the song. A raw display of emotion and the unashamed willingness to express it to anybody who cares to listen has this immensely deep beauty which I cannot help but admire and empathize with. I still remember holding my little cassette recorder up to my alarm clock/radio before I was even a decade old and recording songs I liked when they happened to play on the radio. This was my introduction to the concept of creating playlists like I still spend so much time doing today. The tradition has remained, evolving along with the technology involved. I still listen to some of those very first songs, some fifteen years later. Some of them I even now understand and relate to on a personal level, which has only helped to enhance their values.

At first the idea seems a bit counterintuitive, of sadness being a desirable emotion to seek out, because I think sadness is generally (and not necessarily for bad reasons) considered to be an undesirable one. But with the proper considerations you can escape from this gravity well of negativity that seems to pull so many far beyond any enjoyable level. I've become a lot more comfortable with this over the years, and I've found that if you look a little deeper there are some undeniable and incredible benefits as long as your mindset is sound and effective enough to realize them. There is so much raw, unfiltered beauty down there in the depths of sorrow, just laid bare for you to see and identify with and perhaps even reconcile.

From such a mindset you have the most potential to gain—at your will, of course. It is of utmost importance that you don't just sit and wallow in the sorrow. This is where the generic unfavorable viewpoint from most people comes from, I think. It seems to be a cliché that sorrow brings further sorrow, and nothing else. As if it’s an endlessly spiraling descent into hopeless despair with no personal value until you manage to halt your fall and haul yourself back up without ever looking back down. But it doesn’t necessarily need to be this way, because this vantage point from the depths of your mindset is where everything else looks most beautiful. When you've sunk to some level, everything that is now above you looks so much better in its new light. This is perhaps the easiest gain to get out of all this: the appreciation of something that you once took for granted, now that you’re gazing longingly up at it. Maybe you will get it back, and maybe you won’t, and maybe you never actually lost it. Whatever the case you will have a better, hopefully more appreciative understanding of it, and how to hold on to it or how you might have lost it and how you might reacquire it.

Basking in this state of emotions, down there in the lonely pits of your mind, what once was dull and uninterestingly familiar now appears so beautiful up there above you… and what once was already beautiful now looks even more beautiful. And even what once looked dark and fearsome down there underneath you now looks merely dull and familiar once you’re staring it in the face. In other words, everything just got better, at the cost of your relative position. I think this is the critical thing to consider. You have to be able to accept this realization that you are in a “lower” place now, but from this lowering you have a heightened potential to appreciate. And you should make the fullest possible use of this opportunity. You can grant yourself access to appreciations otherwise overlooked in your day-to-day routine. They are always there; they are always in your grasp… but understandably, they get lost in the daily motions of a busy life. And so this is why I feel like some time occasionally set aside to focus on such emotions is such a valuable pursuit. Put together a playlist of the deepest and most heartfelt of the more emotional songs in your collection, or some touching movies or books or poems and when you find yourself with some downtime get them out and just enjoy relishing in the gloriously beautiful displays of affection and feelings that these artists are pouring their hearts out over. They don’t want you to feel miserable; they want you to have something to connect with and share with you. They want you to be comforted by the idea that so many other people have felt very similar feelings, and they can be shared with the world in all their sorrowful glory. And they can be overcome.

It’s a rather generic saying that you should not “dwell on the past.” And while there is definitely some value to this, there is also some value to doing just that. It’s the ratio between considerations of the past, present and future that really matter—because the past happened. And this past, utterly unique to you, influenced you and your present state of being in the most profound and intricate ways imaginable. Be it good or bad, everything that you’ve ever been through is valuable to your collective experiences of life. A hopeful future is much more solidified if you have the gains from your past miseries (and successes, of course) to build from. If you can spend some time considering some past event, and its consequences on later events and on your own present mindset, then you should be able to glean some sort of insight into something deeply meaningful. Good memories, whether or not you are in a comparatively “good” situation at the moment, should bring you happiness. But if your present state is a particularly troublesome one, then such goodness might be in conflict with a powerful sense of longing and threaten to pull you down even farther. This is normal, though, up to a reasonable level, and is combatable with a strong will. Understand where the line between what is not able to be influenced (but has every possibility of providing insight) and what you actually have control over (the present and future) is. In this way all of your musings can be constructive.

And even if your present state is actually a particularly good one then you will probably experience some sense of longing anyway when you let such emotions flow. Your first-hand knowledge of the outcomes of even the most tragic memories helps to paint them in a positive light. Nostalgia doesn’t differentiate much with “good” or “bad” (at least in my experience); it merely reflects on past events that you miss simply because they are gone. There are always ways to appreciate memories, if you care to seek them out. You just need to know what you’re doing, know what you intend to gain from this pursuit, and how you can relate it to the present day. Don’t see it as “dwelling” in its negative sense, but see it as dwelling positively by evaluating and cherishing and learning. In this way, effectively executed, you can’t go wrong because you can only gain and benefit. Because you are still alive today you have survived whatever experiences of your past you remember to be so troublesome, and they now offer so much potential in analysis.

But putting aside the potential to evaluate and learn and improve, both the deepest and highest beauties still remain. Because at the bare root of it all, emotions on display are beautiful because they are laid bare. How often have you refrained from telling somebody something because you were uncomfortable with putting yourself so far out on the limb? It can be a terrifying thing… and so the courage to do so is beautiful in itself. Emotional songs (as well as other media) are so successful because, to a degree, we all feel the same things. Our minds aren’t so very different. They are shaped by experiences so unique to us that I think this consideration of species-wide similarity is easy to overlook. But it is so powerful a thing, to realize the similarities that exist between all of us despite utterly unique sets of experiences personally. On a fundamental level we are all so much alike, despite vast differences in appearances and habits and experiences. If you are feeling something, deep in your core, rooted to yourself so deeply that you can hardly imagine anyone else feeling the same way, there must be countless others who feel something so similar that the self-righteous comparison is almost trivial. You can find a connection to relate with, if you are willing to genuinely try. Even your next-door neighbor you might not have ever spoken to most likely has depths of feelings more than enough to form a powerful bond with.

This is beauty in its highest regard. The miniscule differences that separate each of us, genetically, and yet make up individuals so unique, yet at the same time so familiar to each other in the grand scheme of things, is absolutely incredible! My mind is so boggled by my thoughts of such things, and how privileged a position each of us is in. I oftentimes find myself so troubled by the unwillingness of people to share their deeper thoughts and feelings with one another, or even with themselves, and yet at the same time I find myself so amazed and prideful at the humble display of so many others who are eager to share with others. There is definitely a rift between the two extremes. We, as humans, are the only beings who can understand each other on anywhere near this level. And so every single possible connection is priceless—there should not be any reason to give it up entirely. But the very attributes that set us apart from every single other species also give us the capacity and the “reasons” to fear and avoid such interactions. This is understandable, of course, in its own right, as I am certainly one who fits into this unfortunate pattern at times. Some people just do not present themselves as approachable at this level, for whatever reasons, in which case there is only so much you can do. But I am always trying my hardest to fight it. And I want to try my hardest to inspire others to fight it, as well. Because the capacities of our emotions are so incredible, so unrivaled and so inherent of so much more potential than any other creatures on the Earth that I find it among the most tragic of disasters that so much of this potential is left to wither away and die rather than being embraced and shared among us.

In the midst of all the chaos of everyday life, there just isn’t time to devote the resources of the mind to fully comprehend what is nesting away right there in each of our heads to be gained from. But it is there. And I think that the differences here, between what is commonly felt and what is only felt during the most extreme cases, is one of the factors that make the consideration so powerful. On a typical day, barring a random encounter with a particularly deep thought or a memory or a song or a scene from a movie, we do not tend to devote time to these depths within our minds. But this same tendency creates the differential that gives so much value to these depths when we can devote the time to appreciate them, when that certain song does randomly play on the radio or when we set out mindfully to click it. When relating to someone who is sharing their sorrows—whether it’s an actor in a movie or a singer in a song or a dear friend on the phone or sitting right there next to you—the invoked feelings you must be experiencing are in such contrast to what you feel in the vast majority of the passing moments of your regular routine that the mere difference here provides a springboard for appreciation and for empathy of the highest importance.

Empathy is what I’m trying to get at, here, overall. Empathy is when you can be sorry and compassionate with someone (even with someone portraying an actor or singing a song), and clothe yourself in the mantle of another person's emotional reactions—to genuinely understand and relate to what they’re going though. I think the capacity to experience this is one of the highest beauties of this world. That any one of us has the ability to peer so deep into the mind of another, to relate their experiences with those of our own, and to offer our own personal insights and our best personal advice or just simply share in the collective appreciation of this connection, is just astounding. Pick any two random people in the world, and (barring communication barriers) they have untold potential to share, to learn, and to appreciate between and from each other.

…And there are over seven billion of us. Endless possibilities abound.

So we can all do it—share, reflect, learn, and appreciate what each of us has to offer ourselves, and each other. Even if it’s nothing more than a touching song that relates to something you’ve been feeling, or through empathy have the capacity to feel almost as if you did, and you feel like someone else might also feel for, this is a luxury. A luxury beyond compare, because even though our minds and our hearts reside only in our own experiences, we have the ability to express them for others to relate to. Endless possibilities are laid daily at our feet, and at the feet of others, and our minds are subject to nothing but our own applications of our thoughts and feelings and experiences in terms of these. They can be shared, to whatever extent any person is willing to share them. We all can identify with each other with even the smallest effort. Even the deepest-felt sorrows are really beauty-filled meadows with more than enough space for all of your acquaintances and personal interests to gather and work together toward some positive end. We all share this inherent capacity to relate to each other’s feelings, and only offering some raw, unfiltered expressions will open the door for others to come in and join you in your considerations. There is a profound beauty in sorrow if we let it flow through our being and shape our understanding of this crazy world and the events which unfold within it.

Sometimes there is nobody around you to share with, or at least nobody who is willing to climb down beside you. In these cases, perhaps making up the majority of such instances, it is crucial that you be able to work through the pain and sorrow and regret entirely within the confines of your own mind to find the beauty that is hidden within. Reminiscing on old, dearly missed good times can foster more appreciation in that you ever even had the opportunity to be so content. Reflecting on a failed relationship of any sort or some attempts that never quite made it that far can bring some very troublesome feelings, but they offer so much insight. So relating to a powerful song or scene from a movie can help you because you can recognize the sorrow in a way that applies it somehow to your own mind. And knowing that somebody else in the world felt something so strikingly similar and was able to express it in ways that channel the connection for you to grasp can be such a comfort. Sometimes this is all you need in the world to feel a little bit more at ease. Ultimately, sorrow makes the good, and even the potential for good, that much more beautiful. And thus, the best is yet to come.

Posted by Unknown | at 2:29 AM | 1 comments

Falling To Our Knees





If you've ever failed to achieve some goal you've set out to attain, so carefully planned out and brightly shining in your own mind, or have ever been suddenly dismissed by the person or people you’ve put so much effort and consideration into pursuing some path together with (friendly, romantic, business), or have ever been struck with a spontaneous, profound realization of reality you never saw coming, then you must know what it feels like to sink down into the depths of the awkward, uncertain musings of uncertainty and near-overwhelming anxiety. You must know what it's like to feel that sting of skinned knees as the strength of your core falters and the pillars of your emotional foundations collapse to the earth.
But there is hope even here, as you stare at the dirt surrounding you as you reach out to grapple something, anything of substance. The acceptance of personal weaknesses, when coupled with a positive outlook, is such a beautiful combination with so much potential. On one hand, you have the realization of a weakness, a fault and, in turn, the means to do something about it because you have identified its existence. This is the first and foremost step. Then, on the other hand, you have the hope which must exist within you and the goal for what you wanted so desperately to make of it. Our inherent intelligence allows us to establish goals and devise the means to achieve them, and identify with rational cause and effect analysis the source of a shortcoming. Whether or not the most direct blame appears to be within ourselves, our own obvious weaknesses are perhaps the best places of all to begin; this is from where there is not much room but to improve.
When you find yourself down on your battered knees it's that much clearer what needs to be done to stand right back up, now that you do not have that luxury you had taken for granted. The dirt and rubble tearing at exposed skin serves as a powerful demonstration of solidarity in something so persistently unchanging, yourself as a unique individual with a unique mind and unique pursuits despite having fallen due to some circumstance, almost as if the earth itself is saying to you "Get back up. There is only pain and boredom down here where nothing ever really changes on your timescale." You have a mind, and a will, and the recognition of pain and the boundless joy of success, so use that to your advantage. Find it. Something dragged you down, or shoved your over, and something can help to pull you back up. Oftentimes it is entirely within your own mind.
But within the more effective of these reactions is where the beauty lies: hope and determination and perseverance in the face of tragedy, no matter how tragic. And so even the darkest of times, the lowest of lows, the most skinned of knees, have their value if you just open your mind to what they can and should reveal to you, and make that exerted effort to identify and properly deal with.
There is just something about life in the pain of thrashed knees… something so deeply beautiful in its potential, in its revealing of failure upon you, and in the pride and thrill of overcoming it. Don’t ever fall down without gleaning some sense of how to avoid a repeated occurrence.
And then sometimes it isn't even necessarily sadness, or any sort of tragedy, that brings you to your knees… sometimes it is simple awe and admiration, or any sort of overwhelming rush of emotions. Some bit of powerful news might have been delivered unexpectedly, or some intellectual pursuit may have at last been revealed to you in its full implications—perhaps a profound realization, an epiphany so staggering to your understanding of the immensity of the universe around you strikes at your core and your legs surrender their proud stature in submission to the awesome might of the rational world.
I find this simple act so poetic. The beauty of existence and all of its complexities can often be overwhelming. It’s like a bow to the Earth, this primal gesture of submission, to nature itself, like saying “I understand that I am but the tiniest of all things in comparison.” Perhaps this is a subconscious way of dealing with the staggering, overwhelming rush of the intricacies in understanding the world all around you as this sensation brings to you a vision of your true place among all the factors of the Universe through a momentarily amplified sense of scale. As if such an acceptance forces an emotion of such humility that the only thing your body and mind can do to cope with it all is to collapse halfway to the Earth, where your weaknesses are the constructive opposites of your strengths and your mind can recollect itself as it takes it all in.
Once this effect has diminished enough for you to regain your senses, you hopefully have gained some sort of insight into yourself and into the importance of your place, and what led you to this circumstance. You may seem insignificant at times like these, but we (presumably) alone have the capacity to appreciate our existence in this way, and to truly make the best of it. Our potential for thought is limitless, as long as our mindset allows for it. Positivity is sorely underrated when it could be all we need to retain our former glory.
The strongest among us may not wear a crown. Those best suited to rise to a challenge may crumple under the pressure, while those you would never imagine to prove themselves so valiantly may seize the reins and achieve something absolutely, unimaginably incredible. No opportunity, nor any single person, should ever be discounted entirely. The most powerful gains sometimes occur when the stakes are at their most extreme… because there is always hope, no matter where you are or where you've been, no matter what you’ve done and what you intend… unless you yourself abandon it. So when you find yourself overcome with emotion, standing on the brink of a revelation powerful enough to shake you to your core, just let your knees fall to the Earth. Just let it happen. You may not even have the chance to consider this option, consumed in the moment, yet you will walk away in the end with a gain as powerful as you allow it to be.
Even the most capable among us must realize that we are practically powerless on a universal scale, unable to simply will the deepest workings of the universe to our desires. We must adapt to them. We cannot just hold out our hands and summon the cleansing rain we desire… but we can gaze into the horizon as the clouds inexorably roll in and fall to our knees as the refreshing waters inevitably wash over us… and in the brightness of the aftermath we can better ourselves to our wildest imaginations.

Posted by Unknown | at 5:53 PM | 0 comments

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)