They can’t wrap their heads around it
No one can quite put a finger on it
Everyone’s a little bewildered by it
A few are very frustrated with it
But I have settled right into it
Such is my life… a joy seemingly straddled by sacrifice and solitude.
Why do I go it alone? This lifelong interview has one question and no one understands my answer. It’s organic, defeating and empowering…
I am cooling in the shade of settling.
Settling begins as a means for playing it safe; facilitating one’s fears into a logical discourse. In its midlife emerges a short-changing of sorts; realizing there should be more, you feel trapped with no clear way out. As settle matures, however, it becomes a tool for navigating towards a greater good, shaping the journey to the bittersweet end.
I traveled many fields and climbed many trees before choosing this one.
At one time, I ventured for the bitter bite. Eve – reborn – I settled for the subsequent fall, not understanding redemption’s power. Initially, terror strikes the heart of the virgin eyes upon the scarecrow illuminated by the beaming heat of the unforgiving sun, which will shine even if you melt away. Melting is easy. Disappearing into –this is it– feels brave, but is only a succumbing. Getting past it is paramount. So, I did… every time.
Spiritual sophistication evolves, if you let it. Winning over others, as well as “winning” in and of itself, loses attract-ability if you play the game long enough. You begin to measure the opportunity cost of your life. How much have I paid to be a part of another’s destruction? Why am I only part of a team when someone needs a quarterback to get sacked? When will the all I give be returned to me in like kind? Hmm… well, the benefit here is discovering that something greater is deserved; something better than what you’re getting, something grander than a muddled spirit. The lesson, however, is that one turn does not earn another. The resolved heart and soul must execute their being with exception.
How the rest is walked out is essentially a measure of comfort and culpability. What am I okay with giving away freely and what am I okay with being accountable for, because knowing makes you fully accountable for your choices. My choice grants me acceptation and frees me from expectation, but the caveat is a devoted hopefulness. I have settled into a joy unaffected by failing reciprocation, loneliness, personal injustice and the chilling atmospheres of temperamental circumstance. It is a settling because it is not a natural choice, but a selective one… a peaceful one… a discerningly intelligent one which challenges my heart and its proclivities, occasionally on the surface and constantly in my depths. But I am settled.
Yes – I am sufficiently settled, cooling in the shade of my scarecrow and grateful for its inability to consume me.
Still… there is always hope.
By the way, this is outside of my comfort zone because it is a free thought piece. While it is thought-out, I tried my best not to sensor or rhyme or scrutinize it too much. It feels like more of a journal entry than a “piece” to me, which is definitely a bit uncomfortable. 🙂
I’m amazed when
work isn’t life and
life isn’t work; when the
dollar that I earn fuels
more than the daily churn, and
the air that I breath is more than
a means for concern. This burn gets
lost, vacating definition; who has
bandwidth to petition the “why” that
substantiates today’s existence when
yesterday’s fog and tomorrow’s blur only
leave room for reason’s resistance.
Toil evolves into an ever-give;
ever-give amounts to the way I live; living
gets forsaken by the cost I pay to grind, but
since that’s always been, I guess I shouldn’t mind.