as the clock approaches midnight, so too does my threat level. it’s been a quick ascent to the month of march. it’s naturally a month where the cold, beaten earth summons the courage for one more year.
this habit of renewal reflects a thoughtful lesson. if nature has the will to grow from it’s frozen roots, then we too should be able to pick ourselves up again.
but the act is challenging and strenuous. it can’t be done without the help of its environment. external heat, sunshine, and pollination all contribute to the caretaking of a fragile rock.
although winter is not yet complete, spring seems to be here. the dark, frigid months of january and february have made their rounds. in reflection, their illicit assaults remained largely minimal in comparison with previous years.
is there a cure for seasonal depression? i inaccurately resemble the plot of “I Am Legend” as the sole carrier of an answer. when will i realize the question?
feet cross over a dark bog on a night of smog, pollen, and raindrops. their toes crinkle to brake, but lose their strength. the ankles fold, twist, bend, and break. this is my creation being laid to waste with lazy rhymes and surface-level shapes. where is the form? where is the torn, shattered heart in the middle of a storm? how do write when my mind isn’t not right?
there’s an incredible space created through meditation. it seeps into my behavior like rain through a screened window, slowly misting an essence of control. the practice may help let go of an obsessive need for command, but that’s only because of its constructive additions to the genuine identity resting beneath our social one.
individual personas seem to morph and bend like a flimsy bridge. they’re relatively directional, but high winds sweep their outstretched, metallic tendrils to bounce and wave. fluctuation is as common as it’s always been, but the winds have calmed into a gentler breeze.
despite this advantage, the state of mind is adversely affected. it possesses a broader sensitivity that catches pending attention, sticking the beholder with a duty to correctly process information. the benefit is, with this fresh distance of observation from electricity and chemicals connecting anatomy, there’s actually a choice.
in this way, we differ from the soil we came from. while trees are subject to the entirety of a rainstorm and birds migrate compulsively, we own the potential to liberate our experience from the consequences of discovery.
in this way, i’m much like my phone. receiving notifications are out of my control, but i don’t open every Headspace reminder delightfully promoting mindfulness, nor do i promptly open daunting emails recognizable as extra work.
further, in addition to query of yes or nos, available is a calendar of todays and tomorrows. tsunamis, in our cranial ocean, only hit when the delays are too frequent to be ignored any longer.
it’s empowering to organize the mind’s discoveries in this way. positively, it’s existentially confusing because if i lease, instead of own, sadness, shouldn’t i be more interested in the buyer who continually signs the contract? when prison sentences turn voluntary, what type of person chooses to be punished?
is that who i am? or is that who i want to be?
– D K T