I have found myself betwixt (love that word) some rather solid “objects” as of late. Situations where there are only evils to choose from. Situations that often start with, “I can’t afford to do this but if I don’t, the price I’ll pay in the long run will kill my soul.”
I said earlier today that I don’t look good in wool, implying that I am beyond tired of being a Sheeple. Of going along with the herd to what I know is the slaughter-house. Yet, to plant my feet and stand in all of my dragon glory (bet you thought I was going to say wolf) means another type of death as mythological creatures tend to be hunted to extinction with a voraciousness only fearful, closed-minded, sheep farming humans can muster. (You did see Dragonheart, right?) Bucking the system has always put the ‘bucker’ in the cross hairs of weapons designed to bring death. That death can be slow, such as one that comes from the subtle closing of doors – losses of opportunities; results of laws passed to shame and control; de-friending and un-following. Or the faster, more final death one tends to suffer at the hands of an assassin’s attentions.
It is a struggle to justify the means; the “why I’m doing this”. Regardless of how noble my reasons seem to me, I am growing ever weary of the evils, be they lesser than or not. And no matter how I attempt to motivate my way through the day (after day, after day, after day), I come back to wanting to opt out, to retreat to the Lair – zero debt, credit rating, and status quo be damned.
Let me while away my days, writing in the sunshine of my back porch; tilling soil in small pots and plots from which life bringing herbs, vegetables, and flowers grow. Let me love whom I wish to love, bestowing upon them calm, soul nourishing attention in the form of touch, taste, sight, and sound. Let me earn the currency with which I may bless lives through something that honors the dragon instead of suffocating it into non-existence.
There’s got to be a better way. sigh