Mo Anam Cara…..
Everyone seeks a herald of the truth, or a would be earnest keeper, that would serve us best. However, should it reveal our vices, or be some oculist to ensure clarity of our being, then we fear it would reveal… Us
This endless merry go round… our need of the truth of us to be known.. and at any given moment… the devastation we will wrought.. to ensure, such truth will never come to be.
We ache.. fear.. long.. beg.. lament.. terrorize… wish for… destroy … ache … ruin… hide from… sabotage… and surrender to… all for the same
THE TRUTH … OF US.
may we never know it… may others break us for it..
But either way.. may we know peace…
All our lives we battle our own perspectives. Either it is a desperate rally to cut through the lines of confusion and doubt to see the truth of what we have denied as truth. Or Some harrowing defense to stave off the truth, so we never face it, no matter what price we may pay.
But… sometimes… we are not the arbiter of our moment of seeing the truth. be it of us, or of something so profound it reveals us..
Sometimes… Life just unleashes Truth upon us.. and we are laid waste by the force of its yield.
We sit the .. our world no more than cinder and ash.. we sit bewildered and confused.
We eventually haphazardly grope at ourselves… to see if all the pieces of us are there…
some times they are.. some times they aren’t.
Slowly we struggle to are feet, and try to find direction, if there is one to find at all, but we are forever changed. We will never see the truth the same way again.
We know who we are, or , at least we should, and any given moment that we do, that knowing is bound in who we were, in the where we have come from.
Now this seems a perilous conundrum, rife with unneeded complexity. Yet when that codex is deciphered, It should yield some understandable clues that we can solve the puzzle of us by and large.
This is not what I speak to now.
I am talking about those times when we Know full well, exactly who we are, but we become so fixed on what that means to us, we read into it again , and again, something else, we literally redefine ourselves in the blindness of our truth, till we are…
not ourselves at all.
The damage is then done… the simulacrum that has replaced that we knew ourselves to be, Stares at us from the mirror of our soul.. surveying the damage to every part of our lives.
“How did we get here” we ask…
There is no one to answer. We have lost the person who could have.
The person we were, before we became that which we came to be.