Monday, October 17, 2011

But I'll Teach

But I'll teach my eyes to see 
Beyond these walls in front of me
And someday I'll walk out of here again
Yeah I know someday I'll walk out of here again


- Jimmy Cliff via Bruce Springsteen, Trapped 

* * *

Being fucked is being trapped. The absence of options - perceived options - is what seizes the engine and you are left with only time's empty cup to remind you that your life was for naught; it went speeding by you while you gnashed your teeth and rent your hair over how fucking unfair everything is, how you were trapped by circumstance and could never break free and live.

Fuck and you.

You may never break free, but that does not absolve you of the effort to live.

* * *

Listen, honey, I know from trapped. I bet you do to. Maybe it was a relationship, maybe it was drugs, maybe it was money, maybe it was the place you were born into and that sickening wave of helplessness pervaded every pore of your life: swamped, fucked, stuck, trapped by circumstances beyond your ability to control.

It is so. It is so. It is so.

Until you decide it is not.

There may be nothing you can do to change the outer circumstance of your life, but you can change your approach to it. The truth is when you change your approach to the stuff of your life you inexorably change the circumstances as well. What keeps us trapped in despair, resignation, futility is fear. We fear the changes required to alter our circumstance because they are either uncertain or come with a cost we are unwilling to pay thereby prioritizing our trappedness, our fuckedness over the risk of fighting it out.

It is said that discretion is the better part of valor; yet you are fucked - what do you have to be discrete about? Better than discretion is discernment. Look. See. Think. Act on what you see and think:

But I'll teach my eyes to see 
Beyond these walls in front of me
And someday I'll walk out of here again
Yeah I know someday I'll walk out of here again


* * *

 When it gets to the point that your fears and the patterns of habit those fears breed inside of you have become as stable and predictable as gravity you are lost. If you thought that laying low, causing no waves would serve you well, you were wrong. Make some fucking waves, dude. If only in yourself and the way you think, the way you see, in what you believe is possible. By doing so you inexorably change the world in which you live. As you change, so it changes. As you stagnate, so it stagnates.

When you forfeit the authority for change, you forfeit your freedom. What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation to live? Fuck and you, my friend. Fuck and you. If you can't muster the spit to teach your eyes to see beyond the walls in front of you, then what are you doing here, what are you doing with the gift (the gift, I say!) of your life? I know it is hard to overcome fear. I know it is hard to risk change, but truly, what are you risking? Your fucked life? That's no risk at all.

What you are risking is freedom and the responsibility that comes with it.

* * *

You got to make dea kuleana pono, bro. You do that and you won't be trapped no more forever.

__________


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