Mercy

The words to the song were drown out by the thoughts in between ringing ears.

Eyes saw only red. Sunlight streaming through the bottle that once held nourishment.

Having drank the nutritious beverage, only drops remained in a small puddle at the bottom. The puddle a tiny reminder of the vastness of an ocean.

The fuzzy silhouette of fingers, an implied grasp, echoing ones inability to hold the vastness of something so deep as an ocean.

Perception is everything.

The three divets at the bottom, merely mechanical devices of the vessel’s construction, yet another reminder. Pointing like arrows at the vastness of the puddle-ocean’s horizon. Concentric rings giving yet another perception of depth that isn’t really there.

Desires keep us reaching for improvement, keep us moving forward, because without forward motion the universe would cease. Yet individually our perceived horizon may not be what we perceive. There is no destination, there is no right or wrong answer. There is no true solution, there is no pearly-gated Paradise at the end of your road. The solution is more forward motion, right or wrong, good or bad, merely a continuation.

It’s that or all of creation ceases.

On one hand, that takes pressure off.

On the other it gives an air of ultimate futility.

One would want all of creation to continue, right?

Yet one might also like for everything to just stop.

To desire builds a great Vortex of creation, which one can only ever experience bits and pieces at any one moment. A never ending stream of one element followed by another. Yet the ultimate desire is that Vortex, all of desires’ results together.

An oxymoron, an impossibility, ripe for complete destruction of it all.

Perhaps if one could just cease for a moment, the relief would make it all okay. No thoughts, no desires, no actions, no sensations. Meditation is the key, it quiets all for a bit. Sometimes the thoughts and desires cease. That moment is found easiest when actions cease. But those darn sensations, the sights, the sounds, the environment, it only mutes a bit. And one must still breathe.

Anything else brings death, only a singular death in a long chain of many. Is it really all that scary? Is it really all that disastrous? Is it really all that bad if you just live another life?

Maybe there is no right or wrong in that either.

For now, sunlight through a red bottle is mercy on my soul allowing a moment of inspiration.

May you find your pause, may you find your mercy. May you feel inspired and a desire to continue on your infinite road trip of forward motion. May you feel God and accept your role in continuation of creation.

Siva Hir Su

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