Sentient, and Ephemeral

In striving, I am not always present in the moment, but instead stand divided, anchoring my position with stillness and a steadiness of heart, though I may feel like the remnant of accumulated yesterdays that is forever indebted to tomorrow. Yet, as the scattered milestones along my timeline begin to overlap (as if space-time were bending), I press onward toward my own equanimity where, among the ruins of deserted, half-conceived dreams and the wreckage of forced attempts, I am beginning to comprehend the meaning of a Limitless Self that is capable of transcending not only what is seen, but also, the boundaries of all that can be perceived by any faculty of the senses.

In striving, I seek. But I do not hunger for stature or possession, though the world may measure my accomplishments in such ways and accord those honors as wages paid. I will graciously accept such concessions as well, as recompense for having traversed the wilderness of this lifetime. But I long to behold something much greater than any convention can furnish; a Self that is seamless, in body, mind and spirit… within time, and without it. I want to belong to every moment, simultaneously, and to occupy a consciousness that requires neither Will, nor Reason to be; for I simply am… Sentient, and Ephemeral.

Life is a deliberate and personal encounter, a choice I make every day, to remain vulnerable to every nuance of feeling like an exposed nerve that amplifies the slightest touch. I want to always know what it means to Love and to experience heartache, to endure and to persevere. I have walked the edge of a knife for so long that the knife’s edge has become my bed, but not because I am unafraid, but because I hope to transcend even myself, to know with absolute certainty that the knife never existed, but instead has been my own incongruity.