Caretaker

This story is about confronting your own demons to lose fear, gain hope and gain insight. I wrote this during a time of great change in my life.

When we forbid ourselves to see the dwelling and seemingly directionless light which can cross through the barriers of the eye. When we neglect the variety of colors which smudge upon our eye lids when we have not taken precaution to cope with the overwhelming sensation of true being. We have placed ourselves in a wanted safe realm of comfort, serving the queen of opinion and approval.   Though our tools we spun to  guard ourselves with, to seek our safety of our wanted manifestation of existence, seem to be the pathway to the light. It is not there where truth resides. How grim it may look, true power is lurking within the mouth of the slumbering  wolf we have chosen to banish in our past.

It is the place we chose to shut down, to feed our compatibility with things,  to gain value out of that which excluded your darkness. Our wolf's guardian is something we have let others create for us.

When we silently blink through the fenced scenery of this perceived un-wealth,  with precaution and an instant feeling of neglection, it may seem as if you are watching at a demon , until you realize that the only demon in existence, is yourself.  We can choose to ignore this forbidden territory of the self, the casualty however will be you, unless you look deeper towards the decaying teeth. Teeth which can serve as your tool to scratch off the remaining rotting of the flesh. It is not your outer voice which will gain this throne, it is your mind, listening and nurturing itself towards growth.

My eyes seemed to have found a shelter in the glimmering light of the green pure eyes which included a spring of happiness, desperateness, wisdom and adventure.  It defied every wall I had build and screamed through every hole which had not been guarded. It felt like the fertilization of an endless forest, reaching out to the deepest parts of the trees. I began to awake again, engaging myself into a sense of wealth. Not the one described by economists or politicians, it somehow evoked parts of me which had been secluded from me during the days in which I did not dare to look at the watchful eye of myself. The arteries of the deadwood, seemed to develop themselves again into fresh oak leafs, a revitalization of a scenery which had always been there, but had it's entrance grown full of thorns.

At times my attention seemed to dwell against the waves of common sense, at times my hope had been lost through the rusty canyon of survival, at times when confusion struck me, to an extent which lead to desperateness, it showed me a light which I feared. A light I had unlearned to embrace by the ones who sheltered themselves within the corridors to serve the queen.

This little two sided disc of contemplation I had been using, which kept chasing me, hating me, protecting me, nurturing me and loving me, somehow lost it's role to energize my mind. It were not the contents of this disc which had been given to me, it was a game I had unconsciously chosen to be part of, to be a functional string on the violin of life.  My mind was not the one, waiting for a ship to enter his regions of approval to deliver fresh coffee every morning. My mind was this ship and it was me who was responsible for the delivery.

At first this new born race of sensations, seemed like a tribe of infants climbing up high to build their first tree-house. The more I engaged myself into this play within my mind, the more I chose to lose my shame, the more I began to understand the mightiness of this so called insignificant yet significant house I took as my home.

I came to visit this new home as it welcomed me as his new inhabitant and sprinkled it's dust from the bonfire upon my eye lids, enabling me to see the treason I had chosen to be part of, enabling me to gaze through the eyes which had welcomed my birth. Whispers in the form of an ant colony protecting it's queen, slowly accumulated the framework I had layed out for them.

I began to understand their language. It was not the sort we try to decipher to find our function within a given society, it was the one which articulated the ever-loving acceptance of self. It were not the words which revealed this truth, it was the never-ending illogical reasoning in which they began eating themselves within the dusty pathways of this labyrinth.

As I began to loose myself within this labyrinth of good and bad, I realized that the labyrinth, was not something which had been given to me to solve it's riddles. I myself had engraved the paths, which have led me to the misunderstanding of the self. It was me who had to undo the things I had done to myself. I had found someone whose "demons played well with mine" where "every imperfect, seemed to be perfect" and "Everything is nothing and nothing is everything." It was a GamBle I took and the strength I gained.

Author's Note

What do you think of the setup of the article? Is the symbolism clear?

Reviews

[Maumil Mehraj]

True that we find a comfort in limiting ourselves and making barriers, which are the least safe places. There is clarity of thought in the piece and very well written too. Plus strong imagery.
Good work, sir!

[Lucas]

long but so worth the read. very strong abstract imagery.