Sometimes we don’t like.
Sometimes we do.
There isn’t any object, individual, entity, phenomenon, region or anything solid or liquid or otherwise here that I am referring to. I just mean what I say, we like or we don’t. We care and we get ignorant. We change or remain. We alter or get altered. Or not. A wise man (or woman) once said, “act or be acted upon.” And it has been this fear of another dominating one’s own self, and individualism that has led to a great many epiphanies, tragedies and for some, even, nothingness. We don’t want anyone or anything to tell us, make us, or want us to do what we don’t want to.
There are a lot of times when I myself have wanted to do or be something different, but hadn’t the courage and audacity to go ahead with it. It is always someone or something that pushes me. It may be that I am thrown towards something that I have craving for, or it may even be a possibility that I move towards a path that I never wanted for myself or even knew I could be led into, but I walk the path. A path that may have sand, stones, gravel, and may lead to a patch of dewy grass, or perhaps scorching desert that scalds the soul. Yeah, I meant soul, not sole. It is our very soul that is engulfed by the tornadoes we plunge into or are drawn towards or, in certain scenarios, trapped within.
It is what I choose to do inside the hurricane, the sunshine, the haze that matters. It is this very escalation of the seasons around us that makes or breaks us. I may be an innocent, naive 19 year old who snubs all beneath her and treats them like the grub between her toes that ends up as a 29 year old who has seen far worse than most could in a lifetime, felt more amazing than she could ever imagine, and ultimately learned that the things that mattered a decade ago were merely ‘things’. I could be the 5 year old that searches for the family that he doesn’t even know the meaning of. I could be the lost soul that wanders from continent to continent, yet remains intact and serene. I could maybe be full of myself and reliant on none except myself, melting the moment I see my spouse, hardening up worse than charcoal as soon as my subordinate so much as glances in my direction. I may be the woman who has opted to choose the man she grew up loving as a girl, but with nagging doubts at the back of her head if she could have done better had she looked beyond him.
I could be anyone of you.
And any one of you could be me.
There is no me without you and no you without me. There may not be an ‘us’ but there will always be a ‘we’. For it is we as a race, a people, a specie that end up being the death of each other or perhaps the resurrection or revolution that was imminent from the start.
Whether I like or I don’t matters not.
Whether I matter or don’t, does.
Matter to yourself, and to the ones who matter to you. And there are a gazillion people that fit the bill. Push yourself and the ones around you to the next day, the next time, the next step. Help them. It is this intent that will help you cross the line. Enter the space underneath the sun and above the horizon. Float away to a greater and higher spot than the one you were born at. Very few reach there, and when you do, give your hand to aid another’s flight upwards.
Make my business your’s and watch how I slowly become one with you.