WAY UP HIGH, WAY DOWN LOW

Strange situations often proclaim strange efforts. What is it holding us together in this way too fast driven world, just prior to World War III? Yes it may sound melodramatic, but do we ever have the common feeling of fear because of political responsibilities around us or do we focus just because of seeing the world losing its mind on more inter-human relations and begin to respect our old values once more?  How can we know that words given today will still count tomorrow? Where is stability – who will give it and what remains?  Safety stays a non-explainable construction of simple human trust, a function we often aren’t even able no more to see in those who stand right next and close to ourselves.  So what happens when we lose ourselves, forgetting about the little wonder we are? Who is there to remind us where to find us again, who we are? Who is the one behind us all the way giving us that important feeling of security? Nevertheless what we call safety today is nothing but the boundaries which once were unknown frontiers, so must we learn to leave, it doesn’t matter how frightened we are, the safe harbor as a simple consequence that ships were meant to sail the sea?

I sometimes wonder if it is really too much to ask for receiving a feeling of sureness. People nowadays seem to forget that even though we live with constant non-binding nature what sometimes helps is to think oneself safe however someway we aren’t capable to evoke this particular state of affairs. As a consequence we feel like manic-depressives – way up high, way down low, never sure what we should, will or do have to feel and so we seek refuge in old habits, hoping to maintain the unaffected. But can we expect promises to be kept?

Maybe again the support we might need is nothing but the feeling of having a home, that place which will be there for us it doesn’t matter which adventures life held for us, the blanket of our lives, because anyway all we need is crutch to think oneself safe.

And in the end we are nothing but guests of subsistence, like travelers between stop one and two – if we want safeness we have to search it in ourselves.  

Cheers

Lorax

AND THEN A HERO COMES ALONG

Suddenly he is there. The hero you were searching this long for. It may happen in an unexpected moment some time more or less bothering and he will make your life even only for instant that better. Who are our heroes today? The coffee shop guy smiling at you morning by morning giving you a positive start to your weekday, your best friend helping you out with some cash at the end of the month or a person coming to your life in a moment you didn’t want him to. Someone taking your fears, carrying on, simply surviving – like the very first summer wind coming up before the big thunderstorm guiding tears to rain. I am sure that there are lights to direct you home and those lights are your heroes. Could it be worse? Even if that light is missing it may be there just digging for the greater good, just because a hero is the one who he is.

So what is it about whether winning or losing, actually a key question for every hero to solve. Is it worth playing by knowing to lose or is it just about being brave 10 minutes longer? Is it a solution never to play? For my own understanding a hero can never be right as the one who gets protected is the one to decide about black or white. But don’t we all have to deal with our cursed stories to make it real at the end? Can we really be broken and do we really need someone with the literal helping hand? A quote I came across last week challenged even this question: Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, it’s at the end of your arm. So why not follow the signs right back to yourself? At the end it may not only be all about one and we must get the point that sometimes a hero can be inevitable, maybe simply because our hand isn’t that strong enough and we are lost along the way not longer able to read those signs. That might be the moment we will need somebody who is looking out for us but what if we are standing at the crossroads with even no strength to run and we can do nothing but stretch our arm and beg to hitchhike? Is there hurry anymore and who’s to blame for our poor situation? Oneself being a hopeless dreamer or our hero not even bothering to show up? Sometimes we just have to wait for the moment our road leads us down the way showing us that the only solution is to be the hero by oneself giving up the idea of remaining the one who needs to be cared for.

These are hard times for dreamers and nevertheless we must remember: anything is possible.

Cheers

Lorax