There is a difficulty in letting it go because there was something deeply honest about it.
Knowingly or unknowingly, the truth or honesty of things has been a guiding light for me my whole life. Whenever given choices, as far back as I can recall, I have gravitated towards the one which intuitively felt more truthful.
In younger and simpler times, the choices would indeed feel as if between the true and the false, if not between the more true and the less true. In time though, it started feeling like the choices were inching towards the bare minimum threshold beneath which a little true may have slipped into a slight false. Could I have fought and stood the ground to keep the little true intact in itself, or did I have no force in preventing the fall? Irrespective, did I stop trying because succumbing was less painful than enduring?
Did I transcend that point and reach territory where choices were between a slight false and an absolute false? And why was it that I was constrained to choose one, not just merely hold discretion between the two? And if and when this happened, was there any avoiding situations where choices emerged between two absolute falses? Why did I need to choose between them after all? Was there an option of dormancy or not choosing or was there a personal power of generating a third counter truer option?
Where do I stand and where do I go?
In the here and the now, am I clinging to the thing that gave a glimpse of the truth in a vast sea of the false? I may have given it labels, but does it matter if labels turned out wrong, if ultimately it was the truth that indeed I saw? Can I hold it in my hands or merely follow across the choppy waves its warm and steady glow? I can stay put in this robust boat of illusion, but will I be safe here at all? Is there any other choice but to take the plunge and wade through these dark choppy waters, for the slightest chance of stepping foot on a steady truthful shore?
Am I better to placed to answer this than I was ever before?
Urban Shaman 