The Oddities At a Change

Standing at the precipice, forever wondering about the jump but never really taking it - the chance, the courage. It is both a lot and a little to ask of myself, 'what if I fall, what if I drown and be the end of me? What would be the point of it all?' I ask myself, and the fact that parts of me reared by the inflated ego of society responds with 'nothing' does not help. There are quieter fragments of me too. but in these moments of high turbulence, they are somewhere behind the wall of fear. So naturally I cannot see them, or hear them either.

What would it take to actually take the leap? To actually throw in the towel to keep the peace with the society, and agree to die trying? Would I feel successful, at ease, or fulfilled to be the one who kept the status-quo, who turned down the volume of her self and only ever violated such standards in daydreams or cozy hobbies?

These questions haunt me. So of course I run to overstimulation to stay busy, talk a lot, do things, lose sleep and what not. So much done, yet nothing at all. It is a shame that nothing can help or anyone, no one can point towards where in the heart can we get this grand fearlessness either. So, what do I do? What am I missing? I have some skills, check; I have and am still learning often, check; I know the steps more or less to progress, check; I am aware of the approximate work and time it might need to reach the goal, check; I can pray and talk about it too, check; Luck isn't in my hands but that is the gamble anyway, so the rest become - willingness to try till we fall, check; to both try hard and try smart, check; and to do it with all of our heart and the innocent intention that got it started in the first place, check. So am i not missing anything then?

It feels like I am standing with all my luggage at the station, the train is ready whenever I am. So, am I? Was I ever? Are we ever at all? The impending fear that something terrible will happen, that I will break some divine rule, some bright red code and mess up the littlest piece of calm I have scraped from down the barrel, works twice the gravity on my being. A part of me is screaming 'YES! Let me go!!' I hear it so clearly now, now that I know this train is most likely to end up in a place that will threaten all the ways I have settled in this peace, kept it and worked for it. That it will demand an overhaul so big that it will rewrite how I live this partly paralysed life. So I ask a different question to this angry part of me, 'where do you want to go?' all the parts of me and I have responded to life in waiting, for anything good and bad, only ever done things to pass the intersections between them. For a lifetime of practice of such a .. routine, where else does she want to go? Do we want to go too?

There is an exhausted 'yes' with a sigh, then a silence so long I am not sure if she is still there. Then as I am almost straying off into a downward spiral of questions, she softly says, 'remember the feeling of home? whenever you imagined one?' and she vanishes leaving me with just that.

My throat is pulling itself inwards.'Home, she said?' I blink. Like an old suitcase a feeling opens unannounced, where did you come from old friend? Where have you been hiding? My vision is getting blurry, my legs are weak, my hands cold, I can hardly breathe, and I am dragging myself closer to the door. When it opens, it opens to such fierce extremes of unfamiliarity that it dazes me. Do I take a step in? Or step back into quiet arms of stale comfort? All the what ifs are raining cats and dogs. The truth is so simple, yet the motion to take a step weighs like the floor. A little more, I ask of myself. Just a little longer for today. At this point I am not sure who am I fighting! Shouldn't we all be at home, after all? ... That echoes through all the rooms of my mind. The engine hums and the door closes.

Like always, the truth wins. Light as a feather it glides by a station, a cliff and a home awaiting for someone to arrive to put a kettle on.