PART 54

You ever wonder why we trust anyone ever? I mean really… how do we bring ourselves to the point of true vulnerability? Evolutionarily speaking… it makes no sense. We’re built for survival and domination. We’re built to breed and to conquer and to prosper no matter what lies in front of us. A mountain or a man… it doesn’t matter. Our eyes were born to see each as something to summit. As something with a heart worth forcing a flag through. And yet, we’ve built our social structure around making sure large panels of emotional and physical armor stay absent. We’ve decided healthy beings are community based. We’ve deemed ourselves creatures dependent on other creatures. Vulnerability is the glue that holds the boat together… even if it poisons the occasional stowaway.

Edgar Allen Poe wrote..

“Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it starts and stops.” 

This is the essential issue with exposing the core of yourself. It’s that moment that exists in all men. The moment between the heart starting and stopping. The moment our “inner self” rests between wanting and receiving. There lies a monstrous thing. The thing we can never account for or take full responsibility of… possibility.

Some stand in awe of this thing. Possibility. The unknown. Frozen in a transfixed stare at the ivory statue that stands at the fork of mysterious roads life forces us to choose between. And some sit lazily within its shadow. Yawning and smiling and drooling thick lines of ignorance or ego out of their mouths and past their chins and down to the foliage of wonder and terror below. And either way, we’re wrong about it. Either way, we will never hold the compass that directs us through the rocky terrain of the human heart. Because the darkest little horrors that can exist in a man surely exists in all men. Each of us sleep at night with the clicking sound of giant, inky insects clinging to our bloody hearts. We all rise in the morning with black holes of chanced morality stirring above us. Churning in eternal loops. Connecting us to that other universe we pretend we didn’t come from. That strange land that’s built around the deep puddle that forms under the great, dark umbrella of existence.
And for some reason, we come back to this inherent desire to stand defenseless. Vulnerable. What is that? Why do we receive this amazing sense of purpose in standing exposed?

There seems to be this naive thread that runs from each of our brains. All of us. It’s made of denial and optimism. I see it as a thin, golden cord. It shines and is made of hope. And it runs out of our heads and through our ears and across rooms to penetrate the fleshy temples of people we love. And it forces its way through their bones until we are connected to them. The cord sucks the belief of goodness from those we hold dear and then it tumbles out the door into the boring streets and unthreads itself over buildings and bridges. And our cities are covered in its thread. Transformed to a golden metropolis. And the cord presses on to follow the path of dried riverbeds all the way to the open water ahead. One that leads to the unknown. It chases the reflection of its own metallic coating across the surface of oceans. The ones named foolishly by men… as if naming something so ancient means anything at all.  And our golden cord wraps and waves in the wake of holy storms until it hits another coast filled with men just like us. And it penetrates their brains as well and melts into the nurons that fire with the desire to be connected.

And as the Earth rotates.. the cord wraps again and again and again across it’s surface. Until a magnetic, amber shell forms around the planet. And the light of the sun reflects against it to fill the atmosphere around us with a milky haze. And our days are magically turned to a constant sunset of golden vulnerability. And the cord leaves our ears and our brains and there is no need to be connected any more. Because we can look across the horizon and breath in the shimmering, carmel knowledge of these truths…

All things are possible at all times. 

Possibility is the only thing worth fearing. 

Love without fear isn’t love.

The pause between a heart beat is life standing in awe of itself.