The Edge

There's something to be said about raising a flag. It symbolizes mobility, I suppose. I've just never had the foresight to find out what my flag displays...or so I think on this day. There's been times when I've said to myself that I'm at my best when I have something to fight for. But what becomes of us when the fight leaves? Or the reasons to fight disappear?

In a cradle of comfort, you can lose your edge and things start to dull. I guess the acuteness of your surroundings keeps you sharp. So if you are fighting for something, like say an ideal, or a dream, or a person, the wetstone is always present. Your head stays on a swivel and vigilance is something that comes natural. I've always bought into the line of thought that contentment was good and complacency was bad. But I think it's incredibly easy to get those two confused. Because contentment means that you're satisfied with the situation at present, no matter the situation. It could really be shit, but if you're finding contentment in all that surrounds you, you're carrying some sort of self-awareness for whatever that's worth. Complacency however I think is synonymous with laziness. Idle hands and idle minds do what they do. At least I know what mine do and I sorta shudder at that thought. But inertia gives you an open door out of complacency.

My greatest fear in life is to be caged. Caged by relationships, caged by a wheel-spinning career, caged by finances, caged by material possessions, caged by my own actions in which I seemingly put myself in checkmate in certain regards, caged by leases, or deadlines, or expectations (from myself and others), so on and so forth. Caged by anything really. It has shown itself to be a detrimental personality trait in several circumstances, but it has also kept me from entirely melting down. Ironically, I think the thing that cages me the most is fear itself. Afraid of this, afraid of that. I'm not afraid of anything tangible. I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm not afraid of dying, I do not fear the reaper. But I AM afraid of failure. I also think I may be afraid of success as a direct result. My biggest fear is that I'll look back on my life and see that I didn't accomplish all that I could have, or at least something meaningful while I had the chance. I suppose nobody ever really does, but I think we have a certain sense, like an untapped sense, of the heights we know we can attain. In being fair to ourselves, I think we really do know just how much we're capable of, and with that, what we're incapable of. I suppose it rattles you a bit to truly stand face to face with these realizations, but I can see it as being a fairly useful weapon in your arsenal.

I guess I'm just blabbing about how I feel like I've lost an edge, but somehow feel like I'm more focused right now. Does that make sense? Not really. I just took on a second job, and I start tonight. Sometimes I want to stand up very monkey-like on top of a building or large rock, or something of considerable height and beat my chest like Kong. But I don't really know that I would be proclaiming anything important. Maybe I'll just raise a flag, and wildly beat my chest underneath it proclaiming no fears except those of failure....and rattlesnakes.

Hold on Cory Will, this ain't gonna be easy.