A force as strong, comparably, to the gales of a tsunami. Inspiration, however, yields no forewarning. The individual sole, to whom beckons little understanding for what is to dawn on them, but soon enough; inspiration heaves a ship against the raging sea. Alas, the life now feels like a trail with such direction.
Confused, perhaps still. But the inspired is not without motivation, nor without eagerness. So much drive is prompted through the excitement of opportunity. Opportunities related to that of which birthed the winds you once faced, now glide with.
Excitement, energy spawned out of nowhere. The dream of being so near to what you want, and actually prevailing in its retrieval.
What may have started as a mere night out; watching a pantomime or attending a concert.. Now a night seen as the beginning. Yet not all action permits such experience. The lesser can be just as strong. Such as reading a book, listening to music, looking at nature(animals, rivers, trees, and that of which lives without fear of rejection).
I sat upon the river once. A good day had ended in feeble silence. My calm breathe was usurped by fear. The hand I use to write turned to a shaking mess, far from its usual steadiness. Unlike all the trepidation of the past, I felt I was finally succumbing to mortality’s wrath.
But, for there always seems to be a but… I did not sit alone upon such bench. I looked to the river, and to my shaky hands… I saw weakness. And yes, I resented it. However, nature placed no further inconvenience upon me. Only a mercy of peace found in the stormy sky. Aided, unlike never before, by a bug so small, yet with a place in my memory so large.
A ladybird(ladybug) had found its self on my leg, sheltering itself from the storm. I knew of its discomfort. So, what else but to throw it into the river, right? No, I held my hand above it. Shaky, dreadful of ever needing to stand again… This ladybird reminded me that nature is with us. I was inspired by this bug. Not because it was small and feeble, similar to me. But because it was small and steadfast. It endured, and persevered. Unyielding of reaching for external aid. It was surviving.
When the storm seems to rage against you.. Know your duty as a soul gifted life, that survival is the core to your existence. But it is not the definitive. The age of man has brought us beyond the likes of constant desperation. Experience, learn, and extract what you can from the world before you. Inspired. Inspired by the faces so sad, angry, happy and placid. Those who walk, run and seem incapacitated, yet just as strong as you and I. They are living. You. Are. Living.
Bask in the enjoyments of today, and tomorrow.
Do not falter to the selfishness that can be mistaken for survival. There is always a matter of self restraint. You will learn. Perhaps not all of us learn, but we can be of the many who do. And in such knowing, we can make those struggling to thrive, thrive too.
Inspiration. Excitement. Passion. Survival.
Whatever it may be that pushes you forward, know you are a soul interacting with life itself, as a culmination of what you find so beautiful.
Now more than ever, I bring unto you an example such soul. A polar bear !
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2087
