Expression

Writing is an expression of internal thoughts and the way to constructively use a language to portray your vision in text. We find many ways to express ourselves in the general sense, some more subtly than others. People move about in unsuspecting ways, tying their personal life to their work, their work to their social life, and every other combination of connections and opportunities to grow upon their choices. We find ways of making alliances, forging bonds, living in the same chaotic mess as everyone else through an expression of self, be it any environment/interaction. If we had no means in which to communicate, stripped of all perceptions, separated and indiscriminately castigated from the vision we all view differently(and challenge obstinately), the reasons behind living a long and fulfilling life would be obsolete. We would have no purpose essentially, slaves to our own genetic miscommunication, petering out throughout time due to inefficiency. Alas, we are not, we are so much more.

Reactionary is a good way to describe it. Our potential is only calculated by how much we dare to envision and what we are willing to give of ourselves in return. In those critical minute thought exchanges of bustling activity we foster a sense of self and devotion to ones aims through critical evaluation. Continually finding all the essentially weak points of our character, or at least perceived so, and sporadically changing our habits to facilitate some sort of growth.

We all experience those times of sliding down, managing our troubles as the footing becomes unsure, wavering in the nonexistence of a parallel version of how things ought to be, wishing to deny the current reality. At a point there is a transition, an impulse, a reaction. The reserves filter away and beyond lies the source of inspiration and potential. For what lies beyond those doors; the truth, integrity, honesty loyalty, and creativity, these all culminate into being. It is as though caught in a tornado, eventually understanding the direction and flow, but constantly fighting being swept from your feet as you tread the perilous calm in the eye of the swirling mass of expectations. You choose not to yield, to walk the path and expect nothing but of self, each person deals with their choices differently.

It seems as a form of masochism, eradicating an erosion of false ideals and presumptions to leave what Lao Tzu, writier of the Tao te Ching refers to as the Uncarved Block. The quintessential man, that which sees not forward, backward, but is present and whole, malleable and infinitely full of potential. He acknowledges all that is or will ever be as immutable in time, but not lost upon in beauty or place. These things, these struggles and performing our dance in the game of life, are the only things that connect us, make us into something more than we are alone. Each moment is just as important as the last, our experience with others mandates this.

Our struggles do no define us, but our actions and interactions with those around us alters our lives as a whole. In some sense we have to find the medium that works for our individual aims, our paths, and not always is there some sort of barrier or road in which to walk down immediately. Not always are opportunities to fundamentally leap forward available. But that has always been the case. It is always the case with the Uncarved Block as it sits in self presence, awaiting to be transformed.

It sits in my mind as I walk my path, expecting only continued effort to foster self, but giving everything to maintain balance and imagining the road of life and time as flat. The ups and downs are irrelevant, it is the singular path. Expression dictates reality and in that choice, that moment of transformation, we grow immeasurably and must once again pull ourselves through the storm to find balance. I have to choose everything and at the same time, nothing. I bring myself to the Uncarved Block in my mind when I get overwhelmed, I create the image of that obsidian monolith. It sits in empty space, surrounds itself with nothing, it is nothing.  All that is, will be. All that was, is now.

-T