So, the burning question WAS:
Who is making the world crazy sometimes? Why is it so?
Umm, HELLO? It’s HUMAN BEINGS who make the world crazy sometimes! See, also, these poignant and powerful lyrics to one of my lifetime favorite songs by one of my lifetime favorite bands:
Out in the street somebody’s crying. Out in the night the fires burn. Maybe tonight somebody’s crying – reached the point of no return. Oh, my eyes they see but I can’t believe. Oh, my heart is heavy as I turn my back and leave. Like the eagle and the dove, fly so high on wings above when all you see can only bring you sadness. Like a river we will flow. On towards the sea we go when all you do can only bring you sadness out on the sea of madness. Somewhere I hear a voice that’s calling. Out in the dark there burns a dream. You got to hope when you are falling to find the world that you have seen. Oh, my eyes they see but I can’t believe. Oh, my heart is heavy as I turn my back and leave. It’s madness! The sun don’t shine out the sea of madness. There ain’t no wind to fill your sails. Madness!
It’s the darkest, most twisted, and tragic truth of all. This world we live in can, indeed, drive even the best us to literal insanity. The best that we can do is just “the best that we can do” while trying to keep our mind and not our eyes focused on what lies beyond the vail.
Let’s be honest people – humanity is not for the faint of heart, and only the strongest survive it relatively unscathed with their heart and soul in the one cohesive unit from whence they first began. Don’t get me wrong, the hope is still very much here, it’s just this fucking WORLD and all the people in it that destroy our vision of eternity and desecrate our spirit.
I keep my mind’s eye focused on The Cross to keep from drowning in the sea of madness. These days, I see myself as an actual risen phoenix ever soaring above it all. My gravity defying steel wings may be invisible, but trust me when I say they’re behind me. I’m forged of fire and Light and power and grace, all of which are impermeable and infinite.
As and aside, I find it no coincidence that the day I saw this question posed on Quora, I had just spent the morning drive to school with my daughter listening to this song, because that’s how my beautiful life works. I was explaining to her how when I was just about her age and first stumbled upon this song, every time I’d listen to it I would literally close my eyes and imagine that I was an albatross flying high above the sea. Then, she stopped me:
No, momma, you are NOT an albatross. You’re something so much better than an albatross.
Little did she know that not two minutes after she got out of the car, I had to pull into a parking lot near her school to contemplate the magnitude of what she’d said. Based upon the fact that after she’d spoken those beautiful words I was immediately flooded with emotions, I knew I needed to stop and sit with my thoughts so that perhaps they’d come full circle. So, I googled the word “albatross” and this is something I found:
If you describe something or someone as an albatross around your neck, you mean that they cause you great problems from which you cannot escape, or they prevent you from doing what you want to do.
Wow! Just WOW! When I think of all those years gone by that I’d pictured myself as that spectacular bird just soaring across the open water, I’m astonished. Up until today, it was a correlation that I was proud of, but how could I have been so wrong? Although an albatross is, indeed, a formidable creature, it’s life isn’t exactly the stuff of dreams. Sure, they can ride the wind for hours on end with neither rest nor flap of wing, and can go years without ever touching solid ground, but they’re also very lonely, constantly in a state of survival, and never really find a stable home.
Truth being told, I suppose that I really was an albatross for too many years to count. Perhaps that’s why I never realized that such connotation about myself was negative. Even more truth being told, in so many ways, I used to be the albatross around my own neck. Until I found a better set of wings, I’m the one who prevented me from doing all of the things I wanted to do.
That was then, this is now, and good GRIEF was my daughter right when she said I was “something so much better than an albatross”. I’m a fucking risen QUEEN, my wings are made of FIRE, and although my “phoenixing above all this madness” does keep me afloat more so than not, my metaphorical feet are always on the ground now at the place where I call home: ME.
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