Wayfaring has always been permanently etched into my consciousness, part of my life. Time passes, forgotten in my ongoing quest for ease, flowing endlessly forward, claiming one poorly lived life after another. Time passes, lost in the shuffle of confusion and fear. Time always passes. I fight, it is all I know.

Sooner or later I will find my way into ease. I hope. So much now, I am filled with the joy of my own breath, unblocked, free, powerful. But still…

I trek, always, into the night, into the darkness, down, deep deep down, looking for that clear, beaming, luminescence. I breathe. Easier finally, it has almost become quotidian. In the dead hours between night and day, I search. The maze is my friend. Deeper, deeper I go, I am finding my way, the Cimmerian shade changes, becomes my accomplice, and I breathe. Deeper still, then, for a moment there is nothing, and suddenly, there we are, Death and I, staring at each other. Ahh, I see you, my friend. I have faced you so many, many times. I will let go, yet again, and embrace your emptiness, your nothingness. My limbs succumb to the paralysis of life expiring, numbness seeps towards my heart and I stop breathing.

I leave.

Where am I? I am here. Who am I? I am me, an infant and a man simultaneously. Come back. Choose. Life is only a dream. You live, you laugh, you love. Come back. Come back. It’s okay. Choose. You are safe, at last, to live and strive and dream. Don’t give up, persevere, fight, keep fighting. Life is magical. Just keep fighting, forever, if necessary. Come back. Choose. Choose against the blackness. Fight, choose, do not quit, do not give up. Return from obscurity.

Okay, maybe, I do not know. Oh, I am so tired, so very tired. Choose. Okay.

Feeling coming back, slowly, ever so slowly, fists unclenching, toes uncurling, numbness leaving. I do return, I have no choice. Deep euphoric breath. Oh shit. An electrical charge surges through me, starting somewhere deep in my centre, expanding, amplifying outward, blasting through my body, my arms and legs, and finally explodes out of my fingers and toes. My entire body spasms in paroxysms of pain and rapture, over and over. Bliss, joy, passion and exultation explode from me. I am free and on the breath of my new life, I weep.

I am alive. Again… How many times must I visit this absoluteness of my perception? I know of no other path. I choose this passage of time.

It is okay to feel the process of my own life ebbing from me, such a long long time ago, and yet, as real now as the moment it happened, when I entered this world from another indeterminate unknown. Frozen, terrified, dying, fighting for breath, those first moments also the last. Except, that I fought and won a life. I breathed in the acid of fear and terror and somehow survived. To live I must feel my death as a newborn. Who knew? What an excursion into insanity.

I breathe and it becomes easy like walking in the morning sunshine, a gentle breeze easing the ache in my heart. Easy like ice cream dripping off the cone, down my fingers on a sweltering September day. Easy like riding my bike down the sidewalk, mouth full of gummies and the wind in my face. Easy like that magical, unknown first kiss. Easy like the heavenly smell of movie theatre popcorn. Easy like a soft spring rain, sprinkling down through the sunlight. Easy like a day that has no name. Easy like loving without fear. Easy like the intoxicating smell of an unknown woman’s perfume, carried by the breeze, triggering a rush of marvellous memories. Easy like inhabiting a man’s body with the soul of a child. I breathe and I feel this moment, easily. Nothing else.

Life always moves, time passes, and of that there is no choice. Life is a dream. I choose to return to the moment of my birth and death, over and over again, swim in the morass, and live.