This writer is more fortunate than he realizes. For scores of moons he has been able to pursue artistic endeavors free of the cruel lash of wage-slavery, ponderously but surely coaxing long-dormant creative abilities from sadness-induced hibernation. The erstwhile torment of orphanization has been softened by the warm rains of time, its contours sculpted by the winds of loving effort; the pain of loss has faded into a soothing glow; memories of dead parents conjure up not tears, but Happiness.
He appreciates the idea that nothing lasts forever; he thanks the universe for granting him this brief repose from the exigencies of life, for bestowing upon him the ability to gather his thoughts, rally his forces, and once more turn confidently into the gale of shifting fortune. The inherited funds dwindle, the vultures close in, his skin collects wrinkles and his hair turns gray, but the abiding core of vitality he had thought long ago snuffed out continues to burn, deep within his loins. How it yet smolders after the past few years is a mystery to him; he was wicked and did bad things knowingly.
Story-tellers speak often of persons who endure great suffering, emerging from their baths-by-fire stronger and more whole. This author has always admired the great heroes, they who inhabit the ancient and the beautiful stories. He once thought that their deeds made them great, until he realized that it doesn't matter if Batman or Odysseus ever existed - this unworthy whorphan is the hero of his own story, one that he and the universe write anew, each and every day, one that he is free to model upon the struggles of the past. He keeps on living in order to conquer the darknesses within him that constantly vie with their lighter counterparts for control of his life-force. By trying to get others to do what he thinks is best, he exerts a level of control that is both wrong and unsustainable; by criticizing others' splinters he misses the log lodged in his own eye. He can only hope to become the change he wants to see in the world by setting a good example for all who might share his orbit. To control his weaknesses, he must play to his strengths, which, he thinks, include all manner of artistic expression. Oh, if he could but remember these simple lessons. Mahalo.
mentiri factorem fecit © 場黑麥
No comments:
Post a Comment