I have found that most of what I write is an attempt to be descriptive of some process at work in me.  And then if I go back and look at it I find that many times it was in some ways prophetic in terms of where I needed to go next.  Or perhaps it is that this student is slow and can only take what I need in small doses and must return again and again until the lesson is finally learned.

When I wrote this piece some years ago there was a stubborn anger and a blind faith that refused to move from where I was.  It was during the beginning of the rebirth of me or at least of my awareness of the process.  Today it is less desperate anger and more a statement of faith that somehow living in the paradox is the path for me.  That in deep places I already know and am slowly developing a new language to contain the sights of the undiscovered territories of my Soul.  In the end I wonder if the idea of “choice” is a bit overrated.  Especially if the conscious options keep one blinded to that which is hidden within view.

Am I terribly weak, or terribly strong?

I am pulled between forces stronger than the earth.

Yet I am not utterly destroyed.

I may yet lose my mind or I may find it.

I am ambivalent yet I choose.

I choose ambivalence.

I wait.

I will not choose out of fear of loss.

I do not fear loss.

I fear being lost.

And the man is lost.  His fears have come upon him.

Who is he?  Where will he go?

What will he do?  What does he want?

He knows.  He waits.

He is seeking the answer to the un-thought known.