Published by admin on November 18, 2015

Staring at a Castle

Sometimes it’s good to change locales.

I usually sit in my office, which is sans window; it’s more like a closet than an office. Very white and officy. The furniture is nice–plush even–but not enough to overcome the vapid surroundings.

But today I sit in a more spacious venue. A huge window sits to my right with trees and a view of the fall, dark day. There are pictures of beautiful places all around me on the walls.

And in front of me lives an enormous castle! Set amongst the Bavarian Mountains, in the heart of winter, with snow banks threatening to envelop it. An introvert’s dreamland.

A place where you can hunker down for awhile and just be. Maybe enjoy a cup of tea with your winter garb and snow hat; feet kicked up and enjoying the gentle sounds of winter–the wind moving and whooshing; the only part of nature that stirs yet.

But a very bad office to get work done (work in the conventional sense).

This office is for dreaming.

For imagining.

For believing.

A respite from the drabness that can be a warrior’s daily grind. To remember why we are grinding in the first place.

Not just for trips to beautiful castles in the dead of winter.

Nor for tropical holidays on remote islands that most people will never step foot on.

But to remember that on the other side of the grind… adventure remains!

Yes, I can hear some of you feeling sorry for me: Don’t forsake your life; have your adventure now! Make life–whatever you are living–an adventure. And while I can relate to your sentiment fully, as I have certainly tasted so much of life’s flavors, those who speak thusly are on a different path.

My path is one that chose me a long time ago, and resisting it (as they say) is futile.

I am called to toil–and toil some more. In the arena where Men are bloodied and scarred–and molded.

Not physically, mind you. Mentally. Emotionally. Champions are not born; they are crafted from failure, embarrassment, shame, loss. And falling.

These are the trials that birth champions.

And yet to do so requires risk and sacrifice–with no promise of reward.

Days and nights spent alone while others laugh and dance and eat.

How do they sustain themselves?

How do they continue to get up without the promise of success?

Faith is the way.

It’s a lonely path.

Not for forever, but until a certain juncture, there can be no turning back or letting off the throttle.

And even then, they don’t let their guard down too much.

Am I ready for this journey? What elements am I made of? Am I not made of them all?

Sometimes, I doubt myself.

I am tired–weary from being exposed to the elements for too long.

But then I wonder: Do I not have a spring, summer, fall and winter living inside of me? Do I not have the toughness of steel, the explosiveness of fire, the humbleness of water and the nimbleness of the wind all at my beck and call?

Do I not have the entire Cosmos running through my veins?

Who am I not to dream?

Who am I not to be bold?

I am human, yes.

But I am also spirit.

I am Prometheus. Not altogether a God, yet not merely mortal, either.


(Or a Man-God?)

Living somewhere in between. Like Prometheus who dared to disobey Zeus, stealing fire from Mt. Olympus and giving it to humans.

Fire that warmed them, gave them relief, gave them hope and gave them all that follows when Man is more than just an animal.

The opportunity to achieve great heights.

To rid themselves of the Gods and invoke the Divine from within.

We are all Man and Woman-Gods. It’s just so easy to forget.

Which is why there will always be some who take the fire to illuminate and awaken us from the slumber of our forgetfulness of our true natures.

To help us dream again.

I therefore begin again–this moment–by reigniting my own fire (which has been dampened by failure, disappointment and the like). Prometheus stole fire from the Gods, but he was clever and placed it where they would never find it: deep inside of each and every one of us.

Although, as clever as it may first appear, it also comes with a cost. For many of us, it is not just hidden from the Gods–but from ourselves, as well. Our greatest journey is to find that spark within and then to fan it into a roaring fire.

The spark within that is just waiting to be kindled. All there is for us to do is to stand up–right now–and take our hands and rub our palms together rapidly, move our feet and get the blood flowing, stretch our hands high into the air… and BREATHE!!!!!

To own that we are the alpha and the omega.

We are gods and we are human.

In fact, we are greater than the gods, as they can never experience failure; therefore, unlike humans, they can also never experience TRIUMPH.

















































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