There’s time. There’s trouble. There’s news. And politics. Lots of angst. Depressing consumerism. Overwhelming anger, coupled with stress.
There’s a time.
It comes late at night or early early in the morning, when possibilities whisper in your ear. It tells you that nothing is impossible. It resonates deep in your soul, hinting at the truth of your existence. It warns you that all that is seen is not the limit of what you can do. Or see. Or imagine.
The music in your ears, your heart and soul lets you remember how the Bible says that “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him”. Fundamentalist Christians have traditionally interpreted this as heaven, which – in their considered opinion- only can be experienced after the heart has stopped. Only when the grave is open; only when they stumbled and trip into the dirt.
That was not the intent. It was never the intent. The intent is now. The meaning is immediate. You know this. At that time of the early early morning, there really is no doubt. Your faith is unshakeable.
You’ve been blind, up until now. You’ve been going through the motions. Doing the daily thing. Smiling the insincere but earnest smile. Trying to fit. You didn’t want to rock the boat. You wanted to play the game, as you saw everyone else playing it. You wanted everything to be smooth. No ruffles, nothing to disturb the family/friend/work dynamic.
You didn’t want to stand out.
The possibilities though. They whisper that that is exactly what you should do.
You should stand out.
Rock the boat.
Mess shit up.
Not for messiness’ own sake. Not just because you can.
But because it’s right. It’s more than expedient.
Possibilities sing, and you find they’re impossible to ignore..
They announce a revelation. The epiphany of a change of purpose, of a different direction to your existence, of meaning. of direction. Of joy.
They negate the lie, that you need to keep your nose to the grindstone. They tell you, that you don’t need to wallow in the usual mundane. In the day for a dollar. In the miserly exchange of time for poverty of purpose. In the hopelessness of the ticking clock.
They tell you to stop shuffling your feet. To slough off the chains of self-imposed isolating sadness. To rise up. To soar on gossamer wings of roaring purpose.
To put aside your self-imposed restrictions. To wipe away the tears of helplessness and understand that….
You are not alone. That there is a universe of choice. And that each promises deep deep immersion into waters of brimming hope.
I’m not always aware of these truths.
But when those times come, at the early early mornings….
It’s really hard not to let slip a kind of joyful grin.
Or a smile.
And to make joyful promises to myself.