It’s the distance that scares us the most. But it’s the road back that will last forever. What once was may seem out of reach. It may seem light years away. It may call to us from time to time, and as we reach up to grab hold of it, it can be agonizing realizing we’re just not there anymore. We reach, and we reach, and we reach, and we thrust ourselves toward it trying to shrug off all the struggle, just trying to find a familiar embrace, knowing we are safe and held, stretching out and calling back, “I’m home! Everybody, I’m home, I’m home!” Maybe a moment where you get to stand by and wait, just listening for it… “We missed you too.” Then we can begin again, knowing it’s always worthwhile. Taking every breath whole and full, every step tried and true, every chance noble and alive, every look fierce and wonderful. And we can look around, rested and reassured, and tell ourselves, “It’s going to be more than ok.”
Every dark road has moments like this. And sometimes these moments are spread out across time just enough to let us know we’re still alive. And we live for them and take what we can from them, but every so often there are times we have to bow to the circumstance, and hold onto what we can for long enough to be able to say, “My Love, I’ll be back soon.” While reality falls back on top of us and we are forced to recognize we’re not there yet and relinquish unto ourselves some notion that I guess it’s just going to take more time. And we’re back pushing forward seeking for another moment to thrust ourselves, and do it all over again. Another moment, another declaration to claim who you are whilst the darkness incessantly consumes that hope and that vision like a plague of leaches, parasites, and flying excrement there is no cover for. And you find yourself wandering about some black cloud in the sky with intimate knowledge of what life really is with no ability to live it. …It’s the distance that scares us the most.
It’s that notion or potentially fatal circumstance of where you are and where you want to be, or worse, where you used to be that can ache the most. Where every step you take and every breath you try just reminds you of your constant suffering, and emphasizes that you’re in a vessel writing a life that is less than you know it is suppose to be. And any wish or advice to have faith just harbors in you this black pit of empty meaning and hollow lines of connection between you and what seems like every piece of life, which is ever establishing and reestablishing a feeling of loneliness that tells you so boldly, it will never go away. Yet, we still try. Even when you’re sick of it, that notion of having faith seems like such a good plan. What else can we do? Even though it seems stupid to seek what they call the only true shelter when at times it doesn’t seem to cover anything except maybe a facial expression that only lasts a second. Some might not call that real faith, but who’s to say in the face of real suffering. Yet, we must try… in the distance… in the face… and whilst we watch precious pieces of ourself falling away.
Life sometimes slowly nibbles away. They say that the path to hell is often paved with good intentions. And how must that hell feel when you get there without a clue how to get out because how could you ever have gotten in to begin with… What then? What then will we watch fall away from us that we might hold dear, or even love, or even love with everything we got? What then as the dagger in our back slowly turns and every drip and drop of who we are slowly rolls down and out of us? Has life truly betrayed us? Have we betrayed life? Is there an answer to that? Or just something we feel? What happens when life decides to take everything? What happens when you lose things you didn’t think you could lose? What happens when you’re left a shrivel of what you once were holding onto a crumb of what you once knew? What then, as life stands objectively undefeated? What happens in those moments when all you see is loss, all you feel is pain, and all you really know is the suffering and a question of “how could things get like this?” Enough having faith, being a man, finding hope, etc… what happens when it’s all bad?
Life can hurt harder than you could ever imagine, and what then when it hurts the worst? What do you do in the face of a perfect storm? What are your options in a hell you couldn’t think was possible? What steps do you take while you see yourself losing what feels like everything? Sometimes life slowly nibbles away. Sometimes it does so while you’re choking on it and drowning in it. Sometimes it does so while you’re doing everything you know how to do, everything you think you can. Still, it goes on. But how do you? How can you? Sometimes life slowly nibbles away, and it does so seemingly indifferent to everything about you. Sometimes all you have is faith. And sometimes you can’t even have that. Most of the time in the face of a perfect storm all you can do is wait for the sun to come out. And when all you know is hell, sometimes you just have to conclude there is a heaven. From there though, you can make it clear that is your choice. Life remains objectively undefeated, and sometimes life slowly nibbles away. But it wouldn’t be called life if you couldn’t nibble back.
When life nibbles away at the pieces that make you who you are, you can always nibble back at the pieces that you are not. Shit adds up at the bottom, but you never have to add up to shit. You matter. You have great value. You can do great things. And there’s always a choice. These things are constant, always, and impervious to scenario or circumstance. Whether you can find the faith to believe it or not, there is always hope. A better life can always be one choice away. Momentum can always be found in determination alone. Not only that, but miracles are always at least possible whether you know it, have forgotten it, or not. Anything and everything is always possible. That’s not only bad. It’s mostly good. I believe it’s intended and it’s actually meant to be beautiful. That’s why part of it is that you have to believe in yourself. Because if you’re not doing that, it’s going to be really hard for life to care about you during more difficult times. When you believe in yourself, you don’t only open yourself up to receive miracles from life, but you open yourself up to be a miracle life has been waiting for.
Even in the depths of suffering and misery, there’s always something you can do. Do not doubt or underestimate life. Even if you’ve made terrible decisions that leave you plagued and desolate, there is still opportunity. Why? …Life. Even if you feel completely alone, there is still a chance. Why? …Life. Even if your circumstances look so bleak you’ve grown resentful toward everything, there is still solace even in the smallest of things. Why? …Life. Even if the grief is so difficult you can’t go on, there is still hope the sun will rise again. Why? …Life. Even if it’s been so long and you feel you’ve lost yourself, there is still something to be found today. Why? …Life. Even if the suffering is so extreme and unbearable death seems like a relief or a way out, there is still life. Why? …Because life is good. It’s meant to be at least. And even when it tells you it’s not, you can still tell it who and what you are. Life might slowly nibble away, but you can always nibble back. It might strip away pieces of who you are, but you can always strip away pieces of who you are not. The distance might scare us and hurt the most, but there’s always a step you can take. And while that might be scary in itself, what the aim inevitably is, is not at all. That aim is wholeness; which is what you get, what is left, once you’ve stripped enough pieces away that don’t belong, that you are not. It might be a new whole, you might’ve closed the distance, but I believe there is a wholeness specifically, purposefully, and specially designed for everyone and everything. …Perhaps even if you want it, or not. …I wouldn’t doubt or underestimate life.
Is there an answer to every question? Perhaps there is. Is there an opportunity in every problem? There certainly is. If you’ve lost yourself, you might find life. If you’ve lost life, you might find yourself. One way or another, if you get lost, you can always be found. Some say life is suffering. Some even say kill or be killed. I don’t. I believe life is beautiful. And it is by design. And I have found trying to kill life to be a small and useless task. Because LIFE always finds a way. Even for those that do believe life is suffering, I think most all of them would say there is beauty in the suffering. And isn’t that something to be valued? Something to be appreciated and grateful for? And isn’t that beautiful? No doubt life can be cruel, unfair, and unjust, especially on Earth, in this world, in a human body suit. But if there is a God, I don’t think He/She/It would be. Would it be God if It didn’t have a plan to mend what’s broken? To heal what’s hurt? To rediscover what’s lost? To see it through what seems so distant? To create from nothing if It has to? To love even if it seems or is said to be impossible. Would it still be life if there wasn’t another day? Another chance? Another moment? It is said where there is a will, there is a way. I would couple that with “where there is life, there is hope.” But is that way always back home? It is, but if need be couldn’t home become something even more than you ever thought possible. It’s also said life is what you make it. Who knows. But isn’t that mostly what home is? Isn’t home the place where you love the most, and where you’re most loved? And can’t that always be found? Can’t that always be expanding? What if life opens that to be more than you ever thought was possible? What if? I don’t believe there is any shortage there. In fact, I know there’s not. That’s how much faith I have. I have enough intimate knowledge about life that I don’t really know anything, but I am ready to live it.
What is life, if not something to experience. And the truth is: Anything and everything is always possible.