I sit and I question what life is for.

A doe, she walks gently across the street and i notice wrists that are bound in chain and iron. Ankles walk free yet hands are clasped, in signs of reverance and devotion to the one above, the great God of the sky, the one who knows so much more than we all do, they say. “I’ll help you out with that” i was told, this one thing that peppers my subconscious mind, “I’ll help you” he said, spoken between words. In eyes held long as thoughts travelled down the airways between us. Not the other things though, those that are too shameful to bring up to the light. Those that are too wicked and cruel and mean. The hand that reached out seemed to stop there. I wonder what i write all of this for, an anger bubbles up within my gut. An anger at injustice, at patterns and thought patterns programmed into my mind through days and weeks and years and lifetimes of living in these oppressive systems. How can any of us escape? How can any of us get out of this cruel and treacherous game? All i know to do at these times to bring myself back to center, to cut the chains that hang invisible from my arms is to send all of it down. Down, down, down, down. Deep, into the core of the earth. The core of Gaia. Great planet of abundance and riches yet divided so unfairly between the hands of so few. Yes, theres anger there, rage and something else, a sorrow, a sadness, because how can any of us a see a way through? How can any of us have hope for something else? When all i do is just keeping on trying, trying, trying, trying. I wonder if its ever enough. If it will ever be enough. Sending it all down, down, down, down, down, down. Into the core of the living being we call home. There hasn’t been a break, and parts of me doubt that there ever will be. A lifetime of work, lifetimes already lived slaving away held inside my bones. This is why I fury and i rage, because if one of us are chained than none of us are free, and it feels nearly impossible to envision a life where none of us are shackled and bound, held captive within a world that promises so much, true infinity. I smoke cigarettes with more frequency now, not entirely caring, because so much of me can’t see ahead, can’t see to a life where i live old enough for my body to start to need my maintenance now to ensure its health then. Yet, still i train. I focus, i pioneer onward into the dark abyss of this world we are living in. The seemingly endless horrors, i wonder how so many can live with such buoyancy and lightness. Whenever I try to rise and shut out the reality of the world we live in, i feel like i have limbs cut off. A disorienting, incapacitating feeling. Unlike the core of me, which holds the capacity to simply endure, endure, endure, no matter the heat or the burn of the cold.

So, this is why i sit and i question, what is life really for? I know that I will not stop going forward, i will not stop sharing my gifts with the world, because I know that no matter how small my impact is upon the lives of those around me, and the grander scale of our whole existence, change is occurring. One small thought, reorienting to the core, to the center, to what is deep underneath the surface rather than in the shallows. These questions, these thoughts, they either propel me forward or they lock me in place. For i do not know what is on the horizon, where the future lives, if it even is one we’re living in at all. I will not stop my relentless pursuit of love and care and grounded compassion. Of walking with my head high and my shoulders back and my feet planted deeply, deeply within the earth. I know that no one is coming to save us, i know that i must be who i wish to see within the world, i know that i must be the change for change to occur, and goddamn does it break my heart to keep my eyes open and my senses aware. It shatters me if i let it, so instead i choose to use it as my fuel, and channel it down, down, down, down, into that endless well of power that lives beneath the surface. I read stories of heroism with characters who do not give up the fight no matter how many times they are knocked down, kicked to the side, or beaten. Still, they rise, so too, I rise. I rise, I rise, I rise. Battles fought near daily, all completely unseen, these invisible wars we fight. Alongside one another on the frontlines. We share smiles and small talk to avoid the crushing realities of what we’re enduring.

But it doesn’t seem to stop the questioning, or the emptiness, or the unknown. And still, everyday i choose this life, I choose to live, i choose to love, and i will not stop until death claims me once again.