Desire For Certainty
Wednesday, 5am, in my bed
It may not be so important that the product of this writing become anything grand or important. It might be most revolutionary that this piece exists at all, even if penned and reviewed only be me, once and then never considered again.
I have such a tendency to hold on to the shiny morsels of my creations or captured bits of valued insight; they're answers after all. With them in tow, I feel that I may ultimately right every wrong I would otherwise produce and ascend the ranks of revered talent.
I think, "If only I could hold on to the memory of how I was told to act, think, feel, or respond correctly!"
"If those rules just stuck with me better and I could recite them in communications or performance, then I would know mastery and set my craving mind at ease."
What is it about such a mentality of adherence that is so compelling? If attained perfectly, such a skill of absolute compliance and understanding would suggest that fears of failure and resulting issues could be avoided: By precisely anticipating the approaching causes for concern, coupled with certainty in how to best handle the ensuing demand, I might suppose to be impervious to harm and frequent fortune.
Who wouldn't want the power to self-bless with the familiarity of opportune rewards? Why not stave the looming dread of chaos that lithely shadows our every moment?
When will disaster strike? Are we prepared to neutralize the threat without realizing pain or loss from it?
What of the opportunities that swarm every scene of our existence and dell within the infinite folds of what is not yet known to us?
Do we catch the best of available choices and turn them to our highest favor?
Later in the morning, writing without restriction
The preceding writing was certainly made with an intention in mind that directed my speed and fluency. I paused often to reflect on my word choice and to wait for the proper phrasing to emerge in my thoughts before allowing myself to continue moving along.
At times, it is certainly beneficial and necessary to select with discretion. At other times, the tasks we face are better served with a relaxed, continuous approach in which our thoughts and actions are allowed to stream tirelessly from one unknown marker to the next.
Having a goal in mind is good. Coming up with an original and illustrative piece of work is often commendable by those previously held in high regard.
Who cares if you suck?
You do? I do? Who would? Maybe someone who has trusted you with a matter that resulted in their misfortune or expense in part due to your fault. That person might mind how much you fail to achieve / succeed / prosper / create / solve their problem you've committed to handling. Your Gods and Mothers, in their purest forms, don't mistake you for your failures; they cannot see past your heavenly goodness.
But you will forever rule your own fate and destiny. Are fate and destiny essentially the same words? Essentially, yes. Perhaps not.
Depending on your life and all of the choices and experiences that have brought you into this very moment, you may have strikingly dissimilar definitions of fate and destiny from my own. You know words that I don't; I use punctuation in a variety of cases in which you may not. Semantics and opinion can divide us.
We're at once alike enough to understand and emulate one another — yet varied enough to envy, despise, and dismiss fellow people.
It matters not where this stream of thoughts began and the end result is irrelevant. I did it.
Here we are, no matter where we go next... Okay, I may have reworked a popular maxim for the sake of my own urges for originality there.