The final blossom.
To an inner spring.
The metaphorical changing tide.
You work, you fight the good fight, you sacrifice.
An inner journey filled with climbs, falls, cuts, scars, sweat and dust from slaying inner dragons.
When you think it’s over, you’re hit again with endless aftershocks of conflict and shortcomings.
And one fine day, it’ll finally be over.
You can finally take a breathe
The final battle – won.
There’s a peace inside, oblivious to the outside world.
Something that most will not, and cannot relate to.
It’s the path of the few;
The few, who dare,.
The few, who do.
It begins with sacrifice – as there will be many.
But it’s more than a fair trade, for the life of fulfillment they will lead.
It’s a journey foreign to spectators who only ever watch, and never do –
Who never know about the meaning of the great sacrifice.
A dividing parallel universe between heroes – and critics – who fault others and never mirror with their own actions,
The journey is a filter for the non-thinking mob; the apathetic; the prideful who are stuck inside a matrix of their own ego creation – choosing to defend their own golden jail.
This is a participatory reality.
A reality only known for the chosen ones who are actually in the arena
The wave function collapsing due to unleashing potential.
The journey is unknown to those who choose to hide.
It’s closed off to the feint of heart and cowards who crumble to fear.
It’s not for those who hide away from the cold in winter, refusing to heed the call to a different fate.
The inner spring, is only rewarded to those who take the leap of faith – and never look back – because they don’t know life, any other way.
It’s not for those who are all tree and no root.
It’s not for those with all show and no work.
It’s not for those with all mountain and no climb.
It’s not for those all material and no soul!
There’s a HARD filter for those who can’t withstand storms and winters that inevitably come paired with your ideal destiny.
This is for those:
Who work, who fight, who sacrifice.
Covered in dirt, particles, stardust, from valiant acts of inner strength.
Who knows failure is just part of the game.
Who trades ego in exchange for a worthy cause.
Each failure, each rejection –
A root deeply planted into soil.
Failure after failure, creating deeply, planted groundings.
Each root, building a stronghold to withstand ANY incoming storm.
Built on the principle:
DEPTH before breadth.
Galaxies apart from virtual signaling tall trees – that look grand and big, but CRUMBLE at the slightest challenge that come their way.
Tall tree, no roots.
The journey filters out those:
Who never take risks.
Who never act on their calling.
Who never step a foot in that arena.
Who signal virtue – contradicting the real meaning of the word.
It eliminates those who never know sacrifice,
Who never know devotion,
Who never know TRUE exhaustion,
Who never know GIVING IT THEIR ALL.
Who never know the true definition of
What it means to fight!
Those who never know defeat, but also NEVER know victory.
The pendulum swings both ways.
Because victory only echoes after defeat.
It’s better to have been in pain and transformed –
Than hidden in hibernation from life.
It’s better to have been a warrior and defeated in battle –
Then it is to be a coward, who never knows the lows of defeat, yet also never knows the heights of true victory.
It’s better to have been dirtied, tossed, broken, bloody, and hurt –
Than to never have fought and had a shot at the GREAT PERHAPS.
It’s better to have elevated, pulsing, ecstatic heartbeats –
Than it is to have mirrored death with a flatline experience.
It’s better to have been Luv(sic), down, dispirited and heartbroken –
Than it is to have NEVER fallen in LOVE.
Choose to FIGHT.
Choose to BELIEVE.
Choose to LOVE.
YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHOOSE your own parallel destiny.
Because the chosen ones, ALWAYS chose themselves.
When everyone runs,
Choose to stay and fight for your ideal reality.
You work, you fight, you sacrifice.
And finally…
When the roots are ready,
The flowering begins.
The picture complete.
And it all makes sense.
Without the work,
Without the fight,
Without the sacrifice…
The puzzle would ALWAYS be left incomplete.
You see your harvest,
You see your works, evolve into original beauty.
Miniature big bangs from the inside, out.
A genesis of creation.
Metaphorical fireworks.
The inner spring is something that cannot be comprehended.
It’s a beauty that cannot be told.
It’s a beauty that cannot be seen.
It’s a beauty that can only…
Be Felt.
This is your spring that you have WON.
This is your spring that you have EARNED
The only way to FEEL IT,
Is to have EARNED IT.
This is YOUR final blossom,
To an inner spring.
A reality – Which you have NO CONTEXT FOR.
It’s YOUR time,
To fully…
Blossom.
-David
Japan, Spring 2023
My attempted, poetic rendition of Teddy Roosevelt’s “The Man in the Arena”
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
