I’ve mentioned it tongue-in-cheek on occasion, but sometimes I wonder if there is any substance to my putting it out into the Universe.
“If it weren’t for the solace of my excursions, my serial flings with Mother Nature that I’d be batshit crazy, fashionably modeling a strait jacket.”
I don’t think it is accidental that I take deeper breaths of consequence when I’m exposed to the majesty of what is. Considering that there is a irrepressible sense of relief that I am overrun with, how could I not?
The water flows and serves as a divine filter of sorts…
These walks of mine are cleansing, my meanderings are more than a simple visit to State Parks miles away from the city limits of Baltimore.
It is me coming face to face with the metaphors of life that effortlessly use their guile to escape my grasp by covering themselves in the static of a 9 to 5 with the formula consisting of the equation:
Eat (sleep) = Poop + Work = Repeat
When I walking I always come to terms with the realization that the path of my life may not be evenly laid…
However, divine intervention always makes a way for me to traverse the terrain.
Riding through this area of Baltimore’s Herring Run Park always provides me with an epiphany of sorts. The curve of the path ahead stands in stark contrast to the beauty of Herring Run, as it conceals something far more sinister under its veil…
A metaphor for life…
Certainly.
I have to admit that more often than not, I wrestle with this sinking feeling of futility…
As if I am alone, in a canoe paddling against the current of what would rather drown me before it allows me to pass.
As if I’m going against the current.
Perhaps it is foolhardy for me to chase after the grace of God…
As the essential foundation of my humanity is repulsive, but I faithfully wait of the shores of my shortcomings, waiting for a glimpse.
Knowing that I can be made whole… Only if I remain ardent in my search.
Searching…
High and low, listening intently with a understanding that my experiences are a means to an end.
God speaks loudly through the filter of serenity to provide me with the eloquence of solace…
So that I can understand that..
I must be willing to be demolished, so that I can be rebuilt.
Shun P. Writes... dot com 