I guess I've been feeling inclined to write again. Sometimes I have so much to say that all the words get jumbled inside my brain and formatting text becomes impossible. At the same time, without an adequate channel for my thoughts, they bind themselves up and clog everything else. I'm an artist. I need outlets.
I've been pondering the concept of passivity in life, which is ironic since of late I've chosen the route of not doing things out of some inane bullshit belief that the "flow" of it all would answer it for me, which of course it never does and I find myself with less ability to make choices in the first place. In fact, I've delayed on publishing this for awhile now because I keep worrying someone will take it personally only to find another someone who might take it personally and so on and so forth until this concern proves my very point in writing it to begin with: I'm being passive.
I think I've realized lately that "passivity" is often just a fancy way of saying fear. Fear of change, fear of work, fear of the unknown. Fear of making choices. People try to spin it, sugarcoat it, turn it into something a little nicer sounding, but it's still just fear.
People have way too much influence if you let them.
The silliest (and perhaps most detrimental) spin on passivity is when people believe they're actually moving, growing, or changing by "allowing" life to lead them when in actuality they refuse to be moved at all. It's self-deception, pure and simple. The world passes by, everyone else changes, but there you are, sitting where you were ten years ago, spouting the same nonsense you went on about then. You're not flowing with the water. You're stuck in the mud, rooting yourself into the earth because you're too hardened and rigid for the water to take you anywhere. What flow?? I see nothing but a stagnant puddle. I see mold.
Dangerous, creepy mold, and it will spread and attach itself to you if you don't flow right past it. Which ultimately is what I want in life and ultimately where this reminder comes from. It's for me. I know too many who've become mentally paralyzed while the rest of everything passes by. People come and go, flying past in blurry succession as you watch. As you age.
To be honest, I'm trying to summon a bit of fire here. I need it. I forgot that true flow requires conscious effort to stay on course (or get back on it), to keep going, to never stop. I forgot that purpose and direction are actions, not passive beliefs. I have witnessed the slow, sad dwindling of life from those who are too stuck to truly flow; to truly LIVE. And it terrifies me.
So, here we are. Nowhere to go but through. And I'm not waiting for you.