One day we'll wake up and there won't be anymore time to do the things we dreamed of doing. We'll rationalize how the world is too big and we're way too small to effect any change in it whatsoever. We'll believe in the immutability of it all, that no matter how we try we cannot change that which is apart and separate from us. As we slip backwards down that tunnel of death and as the darkness engulfs our senses we might hear the muffled laughter of the gods echoing through eternity. If we are lucky we might have a split second to wonder: why is it they laugh?
Perhaps they laugh because we believe in what we are taught, never pausing so much as a second to question the validity of a world chuck full of objects awaiting our discovery of them, of never testing the limits of the laws governing a universe that is said to have existed long before we became aware of it and which will continue to exist long after we part ways, of believing so completely in the infallibility of human knowledge that we never took a moment to challenge the orthodoxy that declares we as observers of creation can never be part of that creation and bend it to our own will. Most of us will die never realizing the grandeur of the human condition. Instead we will on our deathbed bemoan our fate as if all this is preordained, as if we have no choice but to follow the dictates laid out for us by our well-meaning family and friends who by their love and in their fear keep us in place, hold us imprisoned in the invisible walls of a cell created just for us. Should we make even a hint of a move to break out of the security that these walls offer we will be gently chastised; should we persist we may well be labeled incorrigible; there are drugs specifically made to deal with such folk that are deemed much more humane than the insane asylums of years past. We will never find a choice by following the static quality patterns set in place which are meant to guide us into leading a good and productive life even if it means we must give up on who we are and what we might become. Until we disenthrall our very being from the incessant influence of those naysayers who urge us to give up and accept our destiny we will be half-dead already. The Giant will drink our blood and nosh our bones and shit us out when it is finished with us to take another bite of those young and strong like we once were. One day we'll wake up and realize the choices we had were never between this and that. By then it may well be too late. The icy hands of death will be clawing at our throats seeking to silence any hint of revelation that may be blossoming only to fade into that final breath. But I thought I had more time, we might think, as we recall all those days we spent ensnared in the clutches of untruths and misunderstandings that only served to lead us to this inevitable point. We will have spent a lifetime telling ourselves what we cannot do and what we could have done if only we had the courage to step outside the norm. It's time to wake up now. http://www.danglover.com Moq_Discuss mailing list Listinfo, Unsubscribing etc. http://lists.moqtalk.org/listinfo.cgi/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org Archives: http://lists.moqtalk.org/pipermail/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org/ http://moq.org/md/archives.html
