Warming Up

The deeper you go the colder it gets, so we must be deep in the shallow end. We’re a shallow people diggin deep for the fuel  we burn as means to attain our shallow ends. Money, power, stuff. We’re burning our house down… so that we can pretend to have nice looking houses. It’s a routine and we say it’s hard to change, but that’s bullshit too, we’re just afraid of the deep end. If change is a pool, most of us won’t even put our feet in. Afraid to make the jump and go for a swim. We sit comfortably away from the edge, sunning ourselves while spraying heavy metal sunblock on our skins. Now it’s warming up and we’re burning up and and there’s no choice but to jump in, but we stayed on the edge so long, we forgot how to swim.

Here we are, standing in lukewarm water, holding on to ledge, pretending like we’re swimming. Too old, too grown to take lessons, we school younger generations on how to do things we’ve never done. We sow seeds of fear in their young, impressionable minds and cast out the fearless ones. Courage doesn’t live on the edge. Courage dives into the deep end and learns to swim… while the fearful idly standby and watch from the shallow end.

Just observations from a bird, flying high above. Looking for a safe place to land, but it’s too crowded on the land and too dangerous in the rough seas. The wind in her face, there’s no need to flap her wings. She soars high above, but goes no where. She hopes soon the winds will change and bring her to a place far, far away. A place untouched by the confused, self-proclaimed rulers of the land. The place we all imagine exists, but only exists in our imaginations. The arrival of our existence ruins every place we attempt to exist in. Not fish, not birds, not humans. Intergalactic space invaders, destroying whole universes, one species at a time. We invade their space and claim it as our own. Room to breath, reason enough for the human being. Just being human.

I’m warming up to this cold, bloodedness. Deep down, my indigenous roots tell me it’s wrong, but nothing’s wrong if nothing’s right. Take, take, take. I’ve grown old, grown tired of this game. How much more is there to take? When does this game stop? How is this a game if no one’s winning? When will they leave my land? Is this the end? Will they never leave? I suppose not. I suppose it’s time to conform. I suppose it’s time to swim back from the deep end. Time to come back to the edge. Tired of swimming in this empty. In the land of the fearful, courage is overrated, and conformity is the only thing of value. But the edge… where is the edge now? It’s too far gone.

It’s been years, lost in this sea of loneliness. Floating like a piece of trash, hoping to be picked up by an ocean current and brought to someplace new, a place not so deep, not so dark. From the darkness, the sun rises. A single dove flies high in the skies above, chasing the night away. I know where she came from. Only a world as ugly as that could chase such a beautiful bird this far away. I wonder if she she’s me down here, but I know she can’t save me anyhow. Direction. Direction. I’ve got direction now. There’s got to be an edge that way. There’s got to be something better. Maybe it’s only a day away. Swim, swim, I can swim for another day.  It’s just another day.

I spend my days swimming. By morning, I swim away from the light and towards the darkness. By mid-day I’m lost again, floating, without direction. When the sun starts to fall again, the chase is on. Day after day, the cycle repeats. I tell myself “just one more day”, but it’s been years now. Years swimming, on top of the years floating. Where has she gone? Time. Time passes, but the days stay the same. The sun is setting. There’s dark clouds on the horizon. A storm is brewing. The seas are growing angry. My patience has run low.

By night, the storm comes. Lighting flashes illuminate the angry abyss that tosses me about. Tossing and turning, I struggle to find rest. Survival becomes imperative. We’re not floating, we’re not swimming, we’re just trying to keep our head above water. I’m drowning. I’m drowning.

Beneath the surface, it’s calm. Peace. I sink deeper and deeper into the cold darkness. I’m too tired to swim now. Deeper and deeper I sink. This is peace. This is now.

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