What is it we pursue? Is it something new, or rather chasing a feeling or place we once were? I often find myself torn between the desire for the unknown, and the comfort of the familiar.
The familiar is safe, predictable. I know how I will feel when I achieve something, I know what the risks are, and I know what it will cost me. These patterns, however, I feel are often destructive. Like a drug, you end up chasing the feelings you had before, rather than pushing through them. When things do progress beyond your comfort zone, into the unknown and unexplored, you will turn and run, abandon what is around you, and find something new to serve as a rewind.
I know this, because that is where I was, years ago. I was terrified of the unknown. I wrote stories about this fear, about pursuing what was once had, that feeling I had assigned perfection to. Now, I no longer fear the depth, the realm beyond my understanding, emotion surpassing my current capabilities. I hunger for it.
I want to push past all that has limited me. I want to love deeper than I have, and be loved deeper in return. I want to know joy and pain, laughter and sorrow beyond my current comprehension of these words. I want to feel beyond expression. I want depth.
Such depth takes time, and effort. It takes a will not only to stay in the moment, but also to keep pushing it ever forward. I feel a frenzy within me, a force that spurs near frantic behavior and emotion. Yet I know if I stop it, or try and quell this raging sea, I will die. I will put out a flame that has burst to life to achieve, see and know.
I will hunt the edges of understanding, stalk the unknown, bask in the lost emotions. I will have this even if it destroys me, because if I don’t, I might as well have never lived at all.
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