Release

The Making of a Circle

I taught myself to howl like a wolf at the moonlit sky, but I'm not a wolf, though one can be just as fierce when you protect your own. I've always wanted to be fierce or loud, though I know a shattering silence can cause much further turmoil than any spoken word, or sound. What a silly illusion I followed to have such a desire to be loud in colour, when I'm truly small, and docile inward and outward of myself. I'm a quiet creature, and as loud as I could ever be, would be an Elk during a frigid misty sunrise, calling out across the mirroring universe of water that holds the toil of all beginnings. I like my safe places, my mellow sounds, & to enjoy the peaceful calmness of silence, as my thought's essence slowly curates another; a new idea, a new feeling, a connection, a reason to live.

I am not a creature of such loud noises, bright colours, or striking movements, though I admire all above that I am not. I'll never be as such, so all else gages my curiosity, an eye of understanding, to conjure empathy from that I'll never truly understand. The best one can do is reflect just as the water does, but just as we stare into the water, the reflection simply mimics, but does not feel. Aside from the reflection of light, it fits whatever it sinks into, all that's around it becomes of it, and perhaps if it had a feeling, it would feel of all that influences it's form. As the weather is cold, it'll feel cold, just as it would feel the warmth of a summer day, or of a storm that sends electricity through the watery veins stimulating a reaction. These are strange thoughts based on the human perception, to feel cold, hot, or anything at all, but as water feels nothing of sensation as animals do, where water simply is, and doesn't have a care at all of what happens to itself, and whenever something does happen to it, it has less than any control. All else decides for it. To pick me up, or put me down, to evaporate, or fester into a tainted pool of toxicity, completely undecided but decided for, by the infinite outward influence.

The Elk wades across the marsh with the water repelling and returning to its point of protrusion to form balance once again. There's something that catches the Elk's attention in the distance, smoke in the mystic grey horizon, a lightning bolt from last night's electrification. Against all instinct, the Elk makes a conscious decision to take a passage toward the feared unknown in hope of fulfillment, as one never finds enlightenment during a sedated self-seclusion; one must explore beyond the familiar experience as a predicted end, is just as good as an early death. Death will come no matter what one chooses, just as the Camel Driver told us,

"To die tomorrow was no worse than dying on any other day. Every day was there to be lived or to mark one's departure from this world."
- The Alchemist

To run away from all that kills us, or to walk towards all that meets the same end, but a different path entirely. One hopes that they would be so lucky to have such influencing choices, but just as water is a reflection of the moment, how one got to this moment of decision, was influenced by the infinite unseen past. Imagine if one could see the entirety of what brought us to be, everything that's ever influenced us, to fathom, to quantify this, we could never; but one can simply imagine. At this point of imagining, our minds come to a halt of empty space, a space that cannot be seen, or filled, but is known to exist. Perhaps that's all the influence infinity should have, to acknowledge it, and to move on & away from it as no matter how deeply you may ask this question, one will always return to the same point, the same question, often unsatisfied, or discontent with what they have found on the journey, or perhaps a little smaller, a little more emotional. To indulge on such knowledge at the price of swallowing it. All has a price or a part to play, whether we see it or not, all has impact, whether it be a spur of dust nudging us on a still day, to a violent commotion of life that turns our blue sky into blackness.

I love our time together, I value it immensely but I must accept that we are not for the future, but the present to teach us of what we want in the future, and what we truly wanted in the past. To your soft kisses, to your gentle touch, a wide smile when we reunite. All that was missing from my childhood, to be filled in these moments, yet we're worlds apart. Your love is beautiful, but I can't accept it as mine.

The idea of the wolf, or the elk, and personifying such creatures as a reflection of the momentary persona that inhabits me; I cannot say that I'm neither or, as much as I'm a wolf, I am an elk, I am a boy, I am a man, I am water, I am life. I don't necessarily change, my environment changes, my perceptions change, the people around me change, I have no control over such forces, I simply form the shape that's before me, from an idea that was planted in my mind since birth, or the emptiness of a infertile seed that's left a walloping space of painful opportunity. I am simply a reflection of all before me, & my past, & imagined future. I prepare for the light that my future holds and that I'm to protect, & just the same I prepare for my sudden death, or darkness that'll come to kill my universe. During these passages I'll be a sheltering mother and in a moment's notice a dragon sheltering its gold that glows so brightly in one's mind, where I'm truly not protecting the gold, but the illusion of security or prosperity that I believe it brings to my future and nowness, BECAUSE ITS MINE, or, at least one would like to think so..

The best advice I can give to anyone, probably ever, would be.. "Surrender"
To surrender to all that causes you distress, once you surrender and accept the inevitable, and give up the fight, you slow yourself to breathe, and upon these calm, fresh, and clear breaths that no longer pout toxic smoke, in these moments of clarity you allow yourself to construct newness, to move past what once obstructed you from moving forward. Now for those who don't like to surrender, or be vulnerable to the harms of disharmony, call it ultimate acceptance of your, "fate" of your singularity this moment. When one surrenders, we need to lose such human concepts of, "giving up", as to surrender is a far greater feat to overcome when all we've been doing is fighting our entire lives. To continue the cycle of destruction is the easiest option, there's no challenge in continuing a war that you've been at for 10 years, that's only resulted in the exact same outcome. The little moments of illusion that pose as a victory that feed your little ego of self-righteousness to keep you fighting for the empty end. Surrender. Lose when you're, "winning". To constantly repel forces or feel the intense pressures of oppressiveness, or accept surrender. That your world may find peace once again, that all around you may feel at ease, to allow the enemies in your mind to rest, a hopeful endless slumber, so you may awake, reborn, free from torment.