Mister Ishmael ~
Very smart of you to appeal to my inner-escape artist, to my perennial Sagittarian world traveler and my general all-around philosopher scallywag, very smart, very smart indeed. For now I am onboard with you. I will sojourn across the watery ways and bi-ways of our world not as captain, cook nor paying passenger, but as a freeman for hire always seeking the grandest adventure from the very best vantage point.
And to set an even loftier goal before us as you have - b r i l l a n t . To find not just any leviathan in the great deep cold waters of the earth would reveal, but the largest Holy Grail, for surely there is one that plies the world's darkest depths, yet has to surface, at least once in its life, for those cavernous lungs to fill so that it may live long enough for one more unfathomable dive. Our prize, not just the average prize of which there are many, but of the most obscure and wight prize to find, that keeps any good man or good woman seeking for the entirety of their life. Seeking, seeking, always seeking.
And while seeking, one can never be bored for in each turn, each twist, each block, and each full stop, there is presented another glorious moment of decision-making, another moment of sorting through the details of life to determine and discern friend or foe, dark alley or golden way, glorious captain or detestable beggar. Which one is for us? How will we know but to board a trusty ship while she anchors in calm harbour and ride her through all the grand waterways, all the tempest seas, or sit out the doldrums of life with shipmates? Always seeking what looms before us and yet never truly ever arriving; a life with a constant and continuous project; what a delight and a distraction against ever making a real decision again, for the needs of the moment will always keep one busy, and rarely facilitate a pure moment of calm or nothingness which could suggest the ancient compass heading of true south of our own soul.
And so we will take together, as the poor poet from Tennessee, on a ship this year into our own Bloody Battle in Affghanistan, as two thieves, carrying no rags, seeking escape from the worst damp and drizzly November, armed with Seneca and the Stoics, praying our caravan is supplied with a metaphysical professor and our inner resident hermit and crucifix do not kill each other, while paying homage to Jove and Poseidon each in their turn, hoping for good exercise and a good view, while receiving a general universal thump, knowing it was our own freewill and discriminating judgment that made us scratch the everlasting itch that tormented us until we bled, and scabbed over and over again and again.
Will we seek a brief reprieve against the onslaught of our own makings, which surely will come? Surely not. Carry on!
Trust Your Journey (tm)
~ ijil Rainbow Hawk Giver
Very smart of you to appeal to my inner-escape artist, to my perennial Sagittarian world traveler and my general all-around philosopher scallywag, very smart, very smart indeed. For now I am onboard with you. I will sojourn across the watery ways and bi-ways of our world not as captain, cook nor paying passenger, but as a freeman for hire always seeking the grandest adventure from the very best vantage point.
And to set an even loftier goal before us as you have - b r i l l a n t . To find not just any leviathan in the great deep cold waters of the earth would reveal, but the largest Holy Grail, for surely there is one that plies the world's darkest depths, yet has to surface, at least once in its life, for those cavernous lungs to fill so that it may live long enough for one more unfathomable dive. Our prize, not just the average prize of which there are many, but of the most obscure and wight prize to find, that keeps any good man or good woman seeking for the entirety of their life. Seeking, seeking, always seeking.
And while seeking, one can never be bored for in each turn, each twist, each block, and each full stop, there is presented another glorious moment of decision-making, another moment of sorting through the details of life to determine and discern friend or foe, dark alley or golden way, glorious captain or detestable beggar. Which one is for us? How will we know but to board a trusty ship while she anchors in calm harbour and ride her through all the grand waterways, all the tempest seas, or sit out the doldrums of life with shipmates? Always seeking what looms before us and yet never truly ever arriving; a life with a constant and continuous project; what a delight and a distraction against ever making a real decision again, for the needs of the moment will always keep one busy, and rarely facilitate a pure moment of calm or nothingness which could suggest the ancient compass heading of true south of our own soul.
And so we will take together, as the poor poet from Tennessee, on a ship this year into our own Bloody Battle in Affghanistan, as two thieves, carrying no rags, seeking escape from the worst damp and drizzly November, armed with Seneca and the Stoics, praying our caravan is supplied with a metaphysical professor and our inner resident hermit and crucifix do not kill each other, while paying homage to Jove and Poseidon each in their turn, hoping for good exercise and a good view, while receiving a general universal thump, knowing it was our own freewill and discriminating judgment that made us scratch the everlasting itch that tormented us until we bled, and scabbed over and over again and again.
Will we seek a brief reprieve against the onslaught of our own makings, which surely will come? Surely not. Carry on!
Trust Your Journey (tm)
~ ijil Rainbow Hawk Giver
No comments:
Post a Comment