Now and then, you will look up suddenly from a task and being acutely aware of a benign agitation you have paid little notice of, you’ll straighten. By some prompting of curious immediacy you’ll crawl out from the heap you’ve taken upon your shoulders and step outside of the blur of passing moments to try to place an undistracted light on what signal is attempting to reach you amid your madness. Whatever small struggle persisting that somehow has remained undiscovered all this while. You will begin reaching back and wading through your collection of thoughts and memories looking for something that seems increasingly meaningful and imperative to the life that you’ve begun to slumber through. Like a treasure you’ve buried and will come back for someday, and somehow someday becomes almost a lifetime. When the day finally arrives that you begin digging and wondering what has happened to wonderment all these years, your curiosity escalates into an increasingly desperate fumbling in the darkness groping at you know not what, as though you cannot find your gold in the dirt anymore or fathom how you were compelled to bury something so important in the first place. Then suddenly, the bud unfolds and discloses its beauty; a knot unties and the design emerges as always, that appeared at first glance but convergence of happenstance and confusion. How remarkable that you are still surpassed by anything in this world and mostly your own actions. As usual all the questions and torments stop and dissolve, all thoroughfares eventually append at Her image. Thee, without whom seems all but a thread of same days.
It’s not that you’ve forgotten because you never have and never could, how to survive. It’s that you now choose to live like it was all there was and could be, and as though you’ve spent what was worth spending and will now go on never attempting to make your life an exhaustless string of wonderful and contrasting experiences such as make living what it is.
Life goes on living anyway, so go with it then. Else what?