Worth It

Can you imagine... what it must be like to meet God face to face? To be cured of imperfection, if but for a moment. To defy your fluid mortality, stretching out your palms to catch the lightning, basking under the thunderous cascade of unfiltered Glory; to survive the penetrating impact of divine high beams, the all consuming light ignited unto holy fire, rolling high on Perfect Will that won't retire, happily devouring everything unlike it.

Except you.

Sunlight cannot eradicate its own brilliance.
Only enhance it.

And you, my friend, oh untapped shining Gleam from beyond the stars, now know what Moses felt like before he had to come back down the mountain of faith into the valley of life as usual. You, my friend, bearer of an irrevocable kinship to the All Force behind all that is, perched on your chair of shining silver, now comprehend Aslan's warning to Eustace before his purpose and his journey were introduced to one another and they dared take that first, courageous step:

"Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearances. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters."

Breathe.
Just... breathe.

I can still feel it. The unforgiving arctic stone, passing itself off as concrete floors, which cradled me in my eager slumber. Hemmed in by family lacking intersecting bloodlines, and lifelong friends whose first names I'll probably never know. The memory warps and pushes me along; suddenly I'm breathing the same air in the same room with my biggest inspiration of all time. My thoughts have become analogue, thousands of tiny not-quite-circles with backward facing arrows, playing back my time at the mountaintop over and over and over again.

What do you see?
Light... Darkness... the Balance.

But of course it is so much bigger. There's always an ocean as the source of every river, uncap your pen. Let the ink drip and stain the dirt at your feet, because that's what ink does. It stains. It smears. I've got to remember to keep my head clear, because despite what the media repeats via bleached broken teeth, no sentence is more important the page it is written on... because story. Is bigger. Than everything.

It's time to stop living out of context.

Squabbling over pagan holidays marked on pagan calendars filled with pagan weeks... Murdering various persons live on the internet for everyone to see... tracking dead cell phones, but unable to locate a broadcasting IP... loving the freedom to throw food away in the face of those who would trade freedom to eat... spiritual rituals resulting in offering unconditional love conditionally...

Sigh.

Yesterday was Star Wars.

Every line, every painfully waking hour, every limping walk back, every skipped panel, every rude line cutter, every jostling crowd, every moment missed, every hungry second, every dollar spent...

Was worth it.
Which begs the question.
If I'm not willing to sacrifice everything for it... do I really have time to lavish it with the gift of my pursuit?

Awaken to story my friends... Choose a worthy life.

And remember- to thine own doubts, never be true.

Do.
Or do not.
There is no try.

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