The most important thing in life, I’ve found, is the ability to let go
not the physical unclenching of the hand, but to cut away from yourself that which you choose to.
So i lived. what once I allowed to hold me back, I cut, and it had no power over me.
that which once caused anguish, i cut, and now, i feel nothing for. these unpleasantries holding no sway.
I called this peace, and it was peaceful in a way. it made room for forgiveness, forced me to examine my past.
in this examination, i saw those times which I should have let go and didn’t, and so caused strife.
I saw those times when the ones whose hands molded me should have been kinder in their sculpting, but couldn’t.
I saw that they were doing their best. the best they knew how to.
I saw that they could not have done better with what they had, and so I forgave them their perceived misdeeds.
But such honesty invites an emptiness
The anger I’d harbored over the failings of my elders had become a driving force.
A font of will. The engine behind my need to be better, not to repeat their mistakes.
and so in acknowledging their effort, I discounted the very fury by with which I nurtured my future
This is where the void spawns. from the knowing that they tried, and that you can either build who you are off false foundations, or try to exist with honor, unable to build over the hole that had been your core
I have always tried to be an honorable man.
I allowed the anger to fall away, and fell to pieces myself. I did my best to find peace in all that I am, and have done,
For nought that I am now could be without that which I’ve done, the sorrows wrought are lessons taught, and so I cut out regret.
But i now see I’ve trimmed too much.
for you see, I am not sure if I am myself, whatever I allowed myself to become
Always have I known myself to be strong, decisive and driven. Honor, integrity and loyalty were what i decried as defining me.
Now those are memories, and therein lies my horror and shame, for I have squandered my honor, shattered my integrity and allowed my loyalty to be tarnished.
I now existing in contented squalor, Lying when I think I must, turn coat as is convenient
and let my word mean no more than whatever minuscule profit I eek from it.
You may think, this is not pleasant, but not unheard of. perhaps even downright common.
there is its power.
Does this not evoke disgust? of course it does not, for it is common. The tale of breaking a good man should evoke, at the least, disappointment, if not rage, and yet here we sit. all of us, myself included, so ensnared by that apathetic void as to enact no change.
to feel nothing.
to allow such incipient cruelty and indifference to define our lives.
This is not natural, cannot be. Perhaps this emptiness is a feed for something. both gorging on and nurturing this nothingness.
A gardener of hollowed souls
I know I have lost more than what pained me by surrendering to this false solace, and i caution you not to do the same
Beware the emptied soul, feed not unto apathy what might be part of the truth
What is given cannot be claimed back. Give it too much, and the void will claim you