Wednesday, December 7, 2011

I Was Drowning

I was drowning in champagne eyes
Skipping along in compromise
When dignity rattled me on the back
And my rebel mind needed to attack

Don't sit waiting for the thing to come

Get lit feel the power of the one
Don't sit waiting for the thing to come
Get lit feel the power of the one 


- Daniel Lanois, "Power of One"

* * *

We fucked sonsofbitches are strangers to ourselves - the disconnect between what we've become and who we are a canyon of unknowing, by turns blind, fearful and wearying. In moments of insight, second sight, sightless sight we capture an image of our disconnect, see it in the ways our lives have been contorted or made too smooth by living our lives removed from our very selves: an empty marriage, useless work, too many marriages, too much work. We spend our lives building lives to hide our life, the one true chance we get to live.

What the fuck, right?

It has something to do with time, something in the way we assume there is enough time to get around to living the way we imagine it could be, the way we need it to be. And yet, I tell you upon your face, there is no time, no such thing as time, not as you and I have conceived of it. There is only now, this one moment to live. Just this one. Waiting for a better day never creates that better day. Waiting for love to find you never convinces love to appear. Waiting for your life to be coherent never induces your thought to cohere.

Don't sit waiting for the thing to come.
Get lit feel the power of one.

You have to undergo a transformation: from out to in (as per Rilke). You have to shed, scrape away, pull apart the blubbery skin of compromise, of the compromises you've made on your way to becoming a fucked fuckity fuck. Every encounter with externals, with the world of other fucked fuckers, with the desires and traps and rules of others is a pinch-point of compromise and the erosion of who you are into what you've become happens because you've located your life in those compromises, in those negotiations with the prerogatives of others. Yes, we live in and amongst others. Yes, there are many, many, many great things that accrue to us all for doing so: food, shelter, faith, a sense of being of a place and time. Keep all that, but don't mistake it for your soul.

"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs are people who've come alive."

* * *

I was drowning in champagne eyes, skipping along in compromise, always taking the path laid out before me: here, this is the way to go, boy-o. I tried on the hats and uniforms offered to me as answers to the only question that matters, the only question I've ever asked: how do I live? There are rewards for doing so, for going along - money, affection, a measure of acclaim, smugness, arrogance and clueless-ness. Each of which is a shield against the canyon eroding in your soul, blinding you to it, anesthetizing you to the pain of doing so. And if you're lucky, this world falls apart under its own weight. But don't sit waiting for the thing to come. Get lit and feel the power of one, one soul, one mind, one life, your only life, lit from within, lit by a desire to be exactly who you are regardless of the world outside your skin in order to return to that world a boon beyond all telling: your life on fire with life, with desire, with the canyon bridged and life renewed, made complete.

Your rebel mind must attack.

Get lit. Feel the power of one. You.

* * *

Boom.

__________

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