Friday, May 15, 2015

Two-faced Hope

Each day is like a bite-sized summary of how my life has been as a whole (at least, so far). I entered this world with my eyes full of stars, with my head held high. My conviction and confidence clear and solid and easy to see. But that was back when the world around it was still hazy, and I understood little. A hazy, misty, blissful, blue dawn. I was a streak of black ink; brazen, bold, standing out. But the background doesn't stay hazy for very long in anyone's life.

We start learning things; seeing the world around us. How big it is, how small we are.. How little we can change. What's worse, it becomes clear how hard it is to stay in control as we grow up and build habits, good and bad. And how much of living can become automatic and prescribed and inauthentic.

 The world is coming clearer to me in streaks. A sunset so full of color and vibrancy. My voice, once so strong, turns into an uneasy whisper. My hopes become like smoke, dull among the brightness of all life. 

They say happiness is all about managed expectations. And my hopes were too high yet empty. I dreamt of ziplines so high that where I am now, starting from the ground to make mounds from the ground to step on instead, seems so unexciting. But mounds of dirt can make hills, and maybe even mountains someday. Mounds of dirt are what makes ziplines even possible.

I was too sure in my blindness, too complacent in that hazy view, that now that things are clearer, the vibrancy of the vast sky brings me fear. I don't want to be afraid. Instead of being weak and quiet smoke, I want to become a cloud. To ride the sunset and to be a part of the vibrancy itself.

No comments:

Post a Comment