Sometimes lifting yourself off the ground can feel as difficult and as risky as a space shuttle launch. It's been little over a year since my failure to launch and I am still stuck here. I sit in my spacesuit of dreams most of the time now. I dream of being amongst the stars, a celestial held in reverence by all tongues.
Some say that I won't reach beyond, the sky is The limit; statistically, things are not in my favor. I should just plant my feet on solid ground, grow roots, settle down...settle.
My own motto: 'Don't settle for less than your personal best.'
I stare at the Full Moon. The Sun is steadfast but the Moon, the moon, she fills and fades with rhythm, an ancient cycle ruling over human consciousness.
There is something so much larger out there, yet undiscovered and unknown to the minds of men.
I've heard: "The human mind is a way for the Universe to contemplate itself."
The gift of awareness can contemplate things so much bigger than us, so much older and transcendent.
The big question still hangs: "What are we here for?"
Perhaps our function is not in our form but in the way we form. Alone, we are physically pitiful and our newborns would die quickly, when we form a family, we are connecting energy. The larger our web of connections, the more empowered we feel.
Our innate desire makes us explore, expand and evolve.
My mission is what failed to launch, not my dreams.
My dreams are like the moon. I may not see it today but it does not mean it's not there. The unseen moon still exerts its pull on the tide, its pull on me.
My hope is like the sun, there is light even on the darkest mornings.
My passion is like the sparkling stars above, ignited and seen long after it has passed.
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