(Intentional Personal Mythology)
by David Sky
I
approach the waiting army alone my tattered white flag thrown
casually over my shoulder. I am tired and the sword even sheaved
feels almost too ponderous a weight to bare and each step forward is
a trial of sorts or a test of my will for I am tired bone to soul,
tired far deeper than any number of good nights rests could possibly
assuage. I know that the voice who holds me up has told me that the
only way out is through and I know that this voice is never wrong and
I know that I am not through. A Sagittarius does not give up we try
and we either succeed or we die trying, such is Jupiter manifesting
in us. I did not want this fight and did not ask for this fight and
prayed literally for years on end to God to let me beat this sword
finally into a plowshare but the way of things is not up to me only
how I choose to deal with the way of things is mine and is my free
will in it – and I choose to fight, for better or worse. I am not
brave and I am not confident but I do have implacable faith in that
which is larger than I that holds me dear and protects me true.
The
army before me is vast with the sun bright behind them so that I
cannot really even see them when squinting glance up as I approach
but I can see well enough that they are a legion against only my one.
I had chosen to follow the mushroom path alone with few if anyone
really understanding it for even for me the measure of what that
means lies just below the threshold of articulation. I know the path
without doubt when I see it – or feel it rather, to be more
precise. The path is the flow of destiny and the feeling of stepping
onto it is unmistakable just as if with eyes closed one steps into
the shower it is so obviously the shower. It is this feeling that
guides me for there exist no signposts on the ground delineating the
mushroom path, no map symbolically representing it’s position in
time and space, only my own heart feeling it’s way forward. Words
in books are meaningless. The considered philosophies and pious
religions of the world that so many hold dear mean no more to me than
the sounds of the breezes rustling the leaves of the trees. Never
sought but often given, the most thoughtful advice and or admonitions
of others may well be appreciated for its intentions but yet is
little value for the heart has no ears to hear and the heart knows
the way and in fact is the only part of me that has any inkling as to
our destination. It is nice, you know, like going on a cross country
drive with a driver you trust completely so that you can really enjoy
the journey fully. I follow my heart out of blind faith. My love for
my heart is until death do us part. It is the best part of me hands
down and so I made a decision to follow it until death of this
physical body and so now if my heart leads me into battle than so be,
weary as I may be, I will do the best I can as I always do. If my
mind questions the heart’s decisions, as it is want to do, I tell
it to be still, maybe encourage it to look out the windows at those
pronghorns leaping twenty feet across the desert floor outside the
window – isn’t that INCREDIBLE, mind, wow – look at that I
wonder how they can leap so high and so far?
The
only thing I have save the sanctity of my own soul is choice.
I
stand before the general now and look up at him fully a foot taller
than I, grizzled and impassive. He holds no more in the way of fear
than do I, it is obvious looking up into his cold irisless black eyes
his head framed by an aura of the afternoon sun behind him like a
halo. It is really very beautiful, I think, in it's way.
“Have
you come to surrender” he asks impassively expecting the obvious
answer just matter of fact taking care of a formality of business so
he can get back to his plush tent and consider future engagements
with actual armies.
“No,”
I respond, “I have come to state my demands for your surrender”.
His
offices I the front line begin to laugh and incredulity spreads into the second and third row who heard me and one says out loud, “this
is preposterous” and another, “he’s utterly alone for God’s sake,” and another "'Our' Surrender, really!" -
The
General’s voice brings them all to heel, “Silence!” And then he again addresses me condescending now, “Your
demands, please continue?”.
“Everything.
I want it all and your complete capitulation. I will not settle. I
will not negotiate. So everything or we fight to the death - no
quarter, no surrender,” looking up into those black,
pitiless orbs of his that are looking down at me with a truly
inscrutable expression that if in a better mood, I might find amusing
but right this very moment just don’t really have it in me to care what the hell he is thinking. Generals are all psychopaths always ready
to sacrifice their men for the greater good. I only risk my own life which is mine by divine
right to risk. Right and wrong is seared into my soul so I have no need for the proclamations of kings or Emperors to direct me. I am a Sagittarius we are
born knowing right from wrong so when we do wrong, there is never any excuse for it no matter if it is chiseled in stone as law for all to abide.
“If
you choose to die, so be it,” the General says dismissively.
No comments:
Post a Comment