To be, or to try to be a someone
To be, or to try to be a someone, that is the question.
To be is to rest as this.
This is constantly changing, appearing in endless shapes and forms that can’t be captured, but it most definitely is.
When known directly instead of thought about, this is missing nothing. There’s not a speck out of place or wrong in any way.
To try to be a someone is to pick a fight with this.
It’s the attempt to cordon off an imaginary part and decide it belongs to a separate me, responsible for the management of this imaginary island in an infinite sea.
This tiny island is not real, not even that lone palm tree with my name carved into it.
To try to be a someone is an insane struggle of imaginary island-building, where cups of sand are carried from the sea to fortify it, even as the sea reclaims it.
It’s exhausting and pointless.
But to be, is to be free.
No one has to understand or do anything at all to be.
Nothing has to be constructed, defended, optimized, or promoted.
To be is the wide-open sea.
The sea notices the recurring compulsion to build an island. And in the noticing, falls back into the depths of its own freedom to be.
