A few days ago, whilst reading comments on a blog, I noticed an interesting moniker: "LocutisPrime". I was thinking that it seemed familiar and had to nudge my memory as to why. It then came to me, so of course I had to link over to the blog which was called.... "The Borg Conspiracy". (Of course.) I read a bit that day, and decided to pop back to read more. One of the posts that caught my eye was regarding a Navy Chaplain. I had a feeling what it was about, and read on anyways, how could I not. This is not the first time that I had thought about a person whose task it is to give of themselves while at the same time absorbing so much. I have at times wondered what happens when your heart and your mind become saturated with so much grief and pain and the anguish of others, added to your own, which must remain, for all intents and purposes, hidden. What then? The capacity for compassion and caring of one human soul, is it limitless? Infinite? The soul - yes, the human? no. He had taken his own life.
So I wonder again why it is that I have been finding these personal stories in such a roundabout manner when I am not even searching for them? Was it simply inevitable? That if anyone else in my place had been travelling through cyberspace they would have come across the same sites and linked to the same names? This Borg blogger had copied and pasted the entire story onto his blog, so when I linked to the source material, where did it take me? The U.S. Naval Institute site. (Note: That link will take you to the full story.) Why do I find this all so odd? Read this and perhaps this. One more thing... the Navy Chaplain was a Marine too, which has nothing to do with me either.
At this point, my life is empty, without substance or structure. I never expected to do anything except work a dead-end job for someone else. I never intended anything for this blog other than to write about things without expressing myself. No expectations, no intentions whatsoever. Funny thing is... the hardest aspect to deal with has been the lack of structure, and the lack of structure is what has somehow allowed me to find my voice. (Right now, at this very moment, the most difficult thing for me as I stare at the screen, is to decide whether or not I should hit the "publish post" button.)
Posts
2 comments:
I know when making art... if you are able to pick up a media and just "start" sometimes the point, or focus of the piece is so honest and unexpected you look at it when you're done and think, "Where did that come from?" Sometimes not being limited by a focus or goal is the best way to realize potential and gain an even bigger understanding. Perhaps even walk down a new path... with new lessons...
Perhaps this is the journey you have embarked on without even knowing you where on the journey? I say enjoy the ride.
K:
Yes, I have said "Where did that come from" a few times in my life, but never shared anything akin to such until this year. And there is so much more that I don't feel is worthy of sharing.
And... I have been on a journey for close to three years now, and I knew that I was on a new path that very moment when I posted my first serious comment on a blog and then when I hit the "send" button on the first email to the complete stranger whose blog I had commented on. That correspondence during the summer is part of the reason why I decided just to write "whatever", and also why I am now more "open" in comments and emails, even to complete strangers, within reason of course.
So here I am on my way to I don't know where, again.
Post a Comment