Gravity
My inner world knew no bounds.
I searched for it’s limits but only found more convoluted paths. Internally, I lived many lives. I followed a myriad of journeys to their imagined conclusions. I often surprised myself. Decisions I made on one voyage seemed contradictory in the context of another.
There was a time I integrated with a group of Christians. On another path, I was a respected member of an atheist conclave. I once ascended the rungs of power searching for glory. I sold all my possessions and meandered continents. The lessons learned on one path influenced choices made on subsequent ones, but the thread tying these journeys together was not always clear. In my pursuit of power, I learned that part of me had to die before I could grow into the being I was drawn toward. After my death, I no longer recognized power as I previously did.
I realized it wasn’t power I desired, but gravity. Gravity cannot be acquired, purchased, or stolen. Gravity can only be accumulated. The accumulation of gravity is an honest process. Mass attracts mass, attracts gravity, attracts gravity. Gravity is gentle. Gravity is inviting. Gravity can be shared. Gravity can be combined. Gravity can be resisted. Gravity cannot be rejected.
By adulthood, I had grown old many times. I saw many ways to disappoint myself in order to please others. Why do some claim to have my best interest in mind when they fail to know their own? One of the most popular fears is to be lost amid a world that knows itself. I fear I was meant to be lost amid a world demanding I know. I fear being among the final cartographers. I fear exploration losing it’s nobility. I fear that settling becomes the tribal mandate.
One time, the grass looked greener on the other side, and it was.
When my searching was rewarded, I was compelled to begin unifying with my external world. The illusion that I desired safety began to wane. It wasn’t danger that motivated me but curiosity. What if fear was no longer a warning but an invitation? What would I become then?
