Falls Like a Bird, But Rises Again
“How long will I be trapped in here?”
I don’t have high blood pressure. Yes, sometimes I feel pain in my knees, my back, but the worst is actually what lives in the mind. The calendar hanging from the wall couldn’t care less about my plans and sounds like it’s just my and my scribbled plans on a piece of paper. I’m not whining, crying doesn’t help either, but only Heaven knows how I’m dying to see light bouncing off somewhere and showing me a positive perspective. I wonder how long it takes to nurture an unstoppable mindset.
Maybe it’d make a huge difference in my life. Like a bird with broken wings falling from the skies, hardly taking a breath soon to fall on the ocean hoping to pick itself up, like it always did, and swim through the unknown in search of land. At times I’m falling and there’s no ocean down there, only solid rock. But lately it seems luck has been on my side, which means that I recompose myself in mid-air. I stop falling and slowly get to fly again like a clumsy bird.
Truth is that the skyline is always there for me. I don’t see my comrades, of course not, I’m flying by myself and to some extent each one of us is headed to a particular future. That’s where the questions hits hard — “is this future indeed of our own choosing?” — and I just can’t help asking that.
I know we don’t get to choose what happens. Every instant the dices of this universe falls on a distant plane, bouncing until the number of a random event decides what’s next. There’s no way to know when the turn to another direction will show up ahead, neither will I know what it’s all about as long as I swallow the dream-devourer fears, act with confidence when I might have no idea of what I’m up against to, and go figure, tomorrow looks like a mess most of the time.
Is this the face of despair, loneliness, or of being clueless in life?
At the same time, I wonder what’s wrong with the backbone of my soul. Where is everything around me attached to? I thought some time ago that the core of my existence was found and I even treasured it in a chest inside of my heart. But I just came back from there and I feel embarrassed to say this. It’s gone once again. Where am I supposed to hold on to from now on?
There’s no way I’d rely on a partner to give me a reason to fight just for the sake of fighting. Yet, sounds like I can’t depend on my mind as well, simply cause the me is a rebel against almost everything I set out to do thinking about my future. He laughs at my plans, points the finger on my face — “serves you well!” — and is slowing becoming my enemy. Am I supposed to save me from myself? How does one do such a thing?
It can’t be that complicated. I’m sure it’s just a momentary setback. A harmless disagreement of self. Sun-lover flowers feel underappreciated when cloudy sky is up, dogs become sad when the owner leaves, babies cry when far from the mother’s arms. Why shouldn’t my mind be mad with me when the plans I believed in didn’t turn out well yet?
Everything is flowing downstream, the path gravity has determined so long ago, which means that anything going upstream — like dreams, plans, projects — will surely be made fun of by everything around. Isn’t that clear? You’re up against the flow drawing your own path and it’s supposed to be exciting. I can’t count all the times my heart was harassed by my mind and how many times I would step on my dreams saying to myself I’m a crazy person. Maybe if I let it out a bit, everyday, I make room to breath again and tackle tomorrow with all my might. I know that many things are bad, but it’ll change if you try again and again.
Because the only thing I know is that at least one of these seeds I spread everyday will turn into a fruitful tree where I’ll be able to rest under the branches and thank God for the life I’ve had, despite of all the dark times. They were there for a reason. The point is, don’t let them steal your hope away. It might be dark now, but before you know it, the sun is there again.