Breandan
04-27-2005, 04:14 PM
Okay, this isn't fiction, nor is it really poetry, it's a sort of stream-of-consciousness writing therapy I did to get through the period after my ex-wife ran off. I know a lot of this won't make much sense to some, but figured I'd post it here anyway.
Introspection
As I sit here, wounded in my heart, feeling the darkness try and close in around me to crush my soul with despair, I find hope. Not the solace of a healing touch, nor the comfort of wealth or a warm meal, nor the pleasures of a woman's arms. I find the hope and comfort of defiance, a righteous indignation that what I have is worth saving, worth fighting for. I find strength in the fire of primal survival, a survival instinct that tears down the hurdles placed before me by that which has no name, but who's fingers are felt in the corruption of our way of life.
I find my friends pale from my sight, becoming like wraiths to me, not because they mean less to me than before, but because I know the fight ahead is one I will have to engage in alone. This comforts me in a strange way, for it means that they shall remain safe. Ever have I been willing to sacrifice myself for others, to be the hero standing in the breach while others escaped. I know not why other than to simply say that to do otherwise would be beneath me, wrong of me. I have made many mistakes in my life, bad choices made of ignorance or arrogance, but my heart has always been in the right place.
It is this heart, this nobility, that defines what I know I must become, and it is the frailties of my psyche- my shortcomings in tolerance, patience, and dealing with others- that try and hold me back. For mine is a schizmed mind, at once the same and at war with itself. A part knows my duties and embraces them, for to follow the road that has been placed before me is the right and just thing to do for myself and what remains of my people. Another part of me fears this, for it will mean others will rely on me to be there for them, and, worst of all, I will be forced to rely on others to be there for me. A heart scarred by betrayal and heartache is one that does not trust easily, yet in the end I shall be forced to surrender my fears and mistrust. For only in doing so may I find the solace of a clean slate, caring not about the thoughts of those who do not matter, and being able to forgive both myself and those who have wronged me. No one is pristine in this world, me least of all. Things I have done with good intent have turned out to be very ill-conceived, and other triumphs I have made have gone unheralded.
It is not for me to decide whether I am a good man or not, nor is it my place to decide the course of things beyond the small part I have been given. It was arrogance that drove me to think otherwise, and I have paid a bitter price for it. The plans of the Gods will unfold in their own due course of time, and will not be rushed by an impetuous little mortal with dreams of grandeur for his race. Such is the foundation of the fall of pride, even if such pride was in what I wanted my people to be rather than in myself.
A strange turn of events this, that all of my arrogance and pride was dedicated not to my own aggrandizement but that of my people, and now to atone for it I must become grand myself. Strange how it has never been my own power that I sought, but power and prestige for the Gael, and yet I failed utterly because I presumed too much. And now, in order to bring about the grand future I desire for my people, I must achieve power and status for myself. How many others, those who crave such things, have been denied them when I, who fears such things, have them thrust upon me?
Too few would understand the obscurities of my mind, for how can it be that in a world of power mad and power-hungry people, I seek not these things, but seek to burn myself out as a sacrificial victim to the pyre of duty to my people, and yet this altruistic-seeming motivation is actually a form of fear and arrogance? Such is the insanity I am possessed of that I would rather be the cog in the machine than the director of that machine. There is far less expected of a cog than a director, and a cog has only to do it's own little part and life is good. And to burn one's self out? How is that logical one might ask? Simple, for I am truly a devoutly religious man- if I burn myself out and die doing my duty, then I shall be free of this world and all of its pains and harassments, and free to join my ancestors in Tír na nÓg where I can rest finally, free of all responsibilities.
Yet that same religious devotion has condemned me to my worst fears- responsibility, an expansion of duty, responsibility for others, and power. It has been ordained by the Gods through visions and signs that I must follow the hard road, one which will take the raw ore that I am and forge it into what I was placed in this body to be through the fires of the forge of adversity. I have received my "marching orders" as it were and now I fear to take that first step, yet I have no choice. If I truly love my people, and I do, then I must put behind me the past hurts, hatreds, feuds, and other emotional baggage and step forward into the ever-ascending road of my future. Many things I was meant to be, but did not achieve them. Many times the Gods asked me gently to do what they needed me to do for the future and I failed to do so. For all that I have accomplished, there is so much more that I should have achieved by now. This they have taken out of my hands. Free will exists, yes, and I am free to walk at any time, but as I chose to stay, I am therefore ordered to engage in certain things that will mean facing my worst fears, and may well end in my death in some cases. Such is my love for my people that I will do them, for I cannot walk away from what I hold most dear in my heart. The arrogant desperation to make my people what I wanted them to be will be gone, replaced by a confident plan to forge them into what the Gods desire them to be instead. Gone will be the ambiguities, the hyperbole, the idealism, for they shall be replaced by a reality far greater than my exaggerations and delusions. Gone will be the recalcitrance and rebelliousness, replaced by an understanding of what it TRULY means to serve, not as a cog, where it is safe, but as the director where the entire machine is my responsibility, and there is no one to whom I may pass the buck.
And so I sit, stripped bare to my soul by the actions and events of the past year, unable to hide anymore, nor deny. The dark corners of my soul have been illuminated by the light of undeniable scrutiny that only our Gods can use against us, and I am found lacking in many places. Shattered, brought low, I am now ready to be reshaped by them. True heroism means allowing myself to be reshaped into what I was meant to be for the greater good, even though it means losing who I wanted to be and, to some extant, who I was. I will lose much, but in that loss our people will gain greatly, and I take comfort in that. I mark my body with reminders, imbedded lines of azure that remind me of my place and my duties, from which I cannot hide nor which I can deny either.
What my purpose is has yet to be fully revealed to me, such is the way of our Gods, yet I have been shown enough to know that many of my dreams must wait until another lifetime, and many of my greatest fears must be faced. Not all is lost, however, for the gems of my heart, my wives and the community I so desire to build, are a part of their plan. Even the recent loss I suffered in that regard turns out to be but a momentary pain to allow me to do what I need to do, and others are waiting for me.
My friends have suffered their own trials and tribulations, some enduring them even now, but I cannot help them where I am at now, no matter how much I wish I could. This more than anything else is the reminder of why I must do what I have to now, so that in a few years I will be there for them when they may truly need me. There is no greater frustration than to be unable to be there for my people. That lesson I have learned well.
SO now I have but to finish putting my foot down in that first step, a task I have now done by resolving to do what I must. No more second guessing, no more wishy-washy behaviours. In the instant I made that decision, a weight was lifted from my shoulders and the darkness that was closing in upon me at the beginning of this jotting-of-thoughts has fled from my being. I am tired, but it is the pleasant exhaustion one feels after a hard day's work.
And now, I begin.....
As an aside, in the 6 months since I wrote this, a LOT has changed, for the better :-)
Introspection
As I sit here, wounded in my heart, feeling the darkness try and close in around me to crush my soul with despair, I find hope. Not the solace of a healing touch, nor the comfort of wealth or a warm meal, nor the pleasures of a woman's arms. I find the hope and comfort of defiance, a righteous indignation that what I have is worth saving, worth fighting for. I find strength in the fire of primal survival, a survival instinct that tears down the hurdles placed before me by that which has no name, but who's fingers are felt in the corruption of our way of life.
I find my friends pale from my sight, becoming like wraiths to me, not because they mean less to me than before, but because I know the fight ahead is one I will have to engage in alone. This comforts me in a strange way, for it means that they shall remain safe. Ever have I been willing to sacrifice myself for others, to be the hero standing in the breach while others escaped. I know not why other than to simply say that to do otherwise would be beneath me, wrong of me. I have made many mistakes in my life, bad choices made of ignorance or arrogance, but my heart has always been in the right place.
It is this heart, this nobility, that defines what I know I must become, and it is the frailties of my psyche- my shortcomings in tolerance, patience, and dealing with others- that try and hold me back. For mine is a schizmed mind, at once the same and at war with itself. A part knows my duties and embraces them, for to follow the road that has been placed before me is the right and just thing to do for myself and what remains of my people. Another part of me fears this, for it will mean others will rely on me to be there for them, and, worst of all, I will be forced to rely on others to be there for me. A heart scarred by betrayal and heartache is one that does not trust easily, yet in the end I shall be forced to surrender my fears and mistrust. For only in doing so may I find the solace of a clean slate, caring not about the thoughts of those who do not matter, and being able to forgive both myself and those who have wronged me. No one is pristine in this world, me least of all. Things I have done with good intent have turned out to be very ill-conceived, and other triumphs I have made have gone unheralded.
It is not for me to decide whether I am a good man or not, nor is it my place to decide the course of things beyond the small part I have been given. It was arrogance that drove me to think otherwise, and I have paid a bitter price for it. The plans of the Gods will unfold in their own due course of time, and will not be rushed by an impetuous little mortal with dreams of grandeur for his race. Such is the foundation of the fall of pride, even if such pride was in what I wanted my people to be rather than in myself.
A strange turn of events this, that all of my arrogance and pride was dedicated not to my own aggrandizement but that of my people, and now to atone for it I must become grand myself. Strange how it has never been my own power that I sought, but power and prestige for the Gael, and yet I failed utterly because I presumed too much. And now, in order to bring about the grand future I desire for my people, I must achieve power and status for myself. How many others, those who crave such things, have been denied them when I, who fears such things, have them thrust upon me?
Too few would understand the obscurities of my mind, for how can it be that in a world of power mad and power-hungry people, I seek not these things, but seek to burn myself out as a sacrificial victim to the pyre of duty to my people, and yet this altruistic-seeming motivation is actually a form of fear and arrogance? Such is the insanity I am possessed of that I would rather be the cog in the machine than the director of that machine. There is far less expected of a cog than a director, and a cog has only to do it's own little part and life is good. And to burn one's self out? How is that logical one might ask? Simple, for I am truly a devoutly religious man- if I burn myself out and die doing my duty, then I shall be free of this world and all of its pains and harassments, and free to join my ancestors in Tír na nÓg where I can rest finally, free of all responsibilities.
Yet that same religious devotion has condemned me to my worst fears- responsibility, an expansion of duty, responsibility for others, and power. It has been ordained by the Gods through visions and signs that I must follow the hard road, one which will take the raw ore that I am and forge it into what I was placed in this body to be through the fires of the forge of adversity. I have received my "marching orders" as it were and now I fear to take that first step, yet I have no choice. If I truly love my people, and I do, then I must put behind me the past hurts, hatreds, feuds, and other emotional baggage and step forward into the ever-ascending road of my future. Many things I was meant to be, but did not achieve them. Many times the Gods asked me gently to do what they needed me to do for the future and I failed to do so. For all that I have accomplished, there is so much more that I should have achieved by now. This they have taken out of my hands. Free will exists, yes, and I am free to walk at any time, but as I chose to stay, I am therefore ordered to engage in certain things that will mean facing my worst fears, and may well end in my death in some cases. Such is my love for my people that I will do them, for I cannot walk away from what I hold most dear in my heart. The arrogant desperation to make my people what I wanted them to be will be gone, replaced by a confident plan to forge them into what the Gods desire them to be instead. Gone will be the ambiguities, the hyperbole, the idealism, for they shall be replaced by a reality far greater than my exaggerations and delusions. Gone will be the recalcitrance and rebelliousness, replaced by an understanding of what it TRULY means to serve, not as a cog, where it is safe, but as the director where the entire machine is my responsibility, and there is no one to whom I may pass the buck.
And so I sit, stripped bare to my soul by the actions and events of the past year, unable to hide anymore, nor deny. The dark corners of my soul have been illuminated by the light of undeniable scrutiny that only our Gods can use against us, and I am found lacking in many places. Shattered, brought low, I am now ready to be reshaped by them. True heroism means allowing myself to be reshaped into what I was meant to be for the greater good, even though it means losing who I wanted to be and, to some extant, who I was. I will lose much, but in that loss our people will gain greatly, and I take comfort in that. I mark my body with reminders, imbedded lines of azure that remind me of my place and my duties, from which I cannot hide nor which I can deny either.
What my purpose is has yet to be fully revealed to me, such is the way of our Gods, yet I have been shown enough to know that many of my dreams must wait until another lifetime, and many of my greatest fears must be faced. Not all is lost, however, for the gems of my heart, my wives and the community I so desire to build, are a part of their plan. Even the recent loss I suffered in that regard turns out to be but a momentary pain to allow me to do what I need to do, and others are waiting for me.
My friends have suffered their own trials and tribulations, some enduring them even now, but I cannot help them where I am at now, no matter how much I wish I could. This more than anything else is the reminder of why I must do what I have to now, so that in a few years I will be there for them when they may truly need me. There is no greater frustration than to be unable to be there for my people. That lesson I have learned well.
SO now I have but to finish putting my foot down in that first step, a task I have now done by resolving to do what I must. No more second guessing, no more wishy-washy behaviours. In the instant I made that decision, a weight was lifted from my shoulders and the darkness that was closing in upon me at the beginning of this jotting-of-thoughts has fled from my being. I am tired, but it is the pleasant exhaustion one feels after a hard day's work.
And now, I begin.....
As an aside, in the 6 months since I wrote this, a LOT has changed, for the better :-)