That Crazy Feeling

I have that crazy feeling again. The whispers in the dark and the sense of something waiting for me in the dark is back.

Like an old friend I welcome doubt with a hug and a smile. Call it a front, a clever facade constructed by a man who wishes to pretend that things are other than they are.

The great contradiction of my life lies among the leaves I step upon. I hear them crunching beneath me and feel branches scrape against my body. I have walked through this forest so many times that I can’t help but to be surprised by the presence of things that I have never seen before.

I stop and stand in place, ears straining to pick up on the sounds around me. The forest is a place that guards its secrets well. Treasures and traps are hidden inside. Step carefully or risk waking the demons. Walk with purpose and strength so that those who already know of you recognize that you are not be trifled with.

Spinning slowly I try to determine if lack of awareness is to blame. Perhaps these things were always here and I never noticed. It is possible as is the possibility that these things have always been here.

The forest is constantly growing and changing. Evolution is part of its existence. I am forever amazed by this and touched by how light can impact my view of it.

In daylight it is always warm and inviting, but night time is different. At night the warmth changes and places that never see that sunlight take control.

Are the beings that roam nearby friendly or malevolent. Do they notice my presence? Can they feel the flame that burns inside or is it too slight and insignificant for them.

I am here because I have questions and doubts that must be addressed. I cannot ignore them any longer.

Awareness is a double edged sword. I cannot walk naked through the garden anymore. I am aware of all and the consequences that come with it.

But awareness means that I can revel in life and experience the sort of joy that makes a man weep with joy.

So here I stand, in the center of the forest. When the rage and frustration come I allow them to wash over me. I bathe in them and drink deeply from the cups they offer.

It provides me with protection and with strength but only at great cost. When it comes I do not sleep. For days I engage in battles I dare not lose.

No one can help me, no succor, no aid to be offered. No quarter is asked for and none is given.

Eventually exhaustion sets in and I am forced to lay down my arms. For a while I am too tired to sleep and then I do.

Beloved rest takes me in its arms and as I close my eyes the blackness takes me. I dream of things, of people and places. Blissfully unaware I slumber.

Seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours. The days pass and I wake up refreshed and ready to resume my quest.

I am centered and focused again. The search for the answers has resumed. I know nothing and I know everything. My heart and soul are scarred but those are signs of life experience. I bear those symbols gladly because the life I wish to live demands nothing less.

It is better to reach fore that which lies just outside of my grasp than to settle for the fruit that has already fallen.

The end
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