On the edge
I took a trip this weekend that started with a beautiful hike in the mountain to look at petroglyphs. Looking at them I wondered what the artists were trying to say, and wondered what it would be like to live in a time when words weren’t used to express what was in one’s mind. I wandered a graveyard and wondered about the people that lay there, and as again, as i looked at all the symbolic items laid around and on the graves, I wondered about the people who left them, and what they were trying to express without using words. I live by the written word and often use the confines of definition to feel safe and secure. Words offer set parameters and boundaries, which enable me to live within the safety of what has already been laid out.
My trip took me several hundred miles physically, but mentally and emotionally left me feeling like I was back on top of the mountain, with the mysterious pictures that could mean anything, or nothing. Through a combination of events, I felt what it was like to not be defined by words, but rather by feelings, thoughts and absolutely no barriers. It made me realize how much I rely on my boundaries to glorify the small world I live in, and when one of the barricades was removed for a moment, I lived the exhilaration of being truly free in my mind. It was a fleeting moment before I put the barricade back into place, and for that brief moment I felt fear. Not fear that something bad would happen, but fear that all the good things I’ve wanted for so long might actually be attainable. Fear that without my barriers, I would have no control and fall prey to the hardships of life. When my trip came to an end, I felt that I was standing on top of the cliff, teetering above the beautiful valley below, tempted to step off and see if I really can fly.
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