We are verbs. The moment we noun ourselves we are lost

We would rather be ruined than changed. Rather die in our dread than find the cross of the moment and let our illusions die. W.H. Auden. The Age of Anxiety

The shattering of illusions does not come in a soft pink packet. The world we hold as right, true and good must become irreconcilable with our experience to the point that we can no longer keep the illusion.

This requires not just an unravelling of identity, of a life crafted to look a particular way. It requires stepping into a life that we have not yet inhabited. 

To become a stranger to ourselves. 

Who are we really, is the deeper question. And from the no-thingness we might build a something. An identity that we can inhabit as ours.

I look at those our current world considers icons of achievement and success. I wonder, are they really happy? Do they live joyously? Or do they spend their private hours feeding the starved beast of their soul with junk food, social likes, porn, reality TV?

I would rather live in that crucible of change. I would rather the truth. Hard, shattering, stunning. 

Life, joy, happiness bend back and meet those who stand on the edge, explore the questions, open to the infinite wisdom of the unknown, and give up their addiction to their own superiority.

We are, after all, verbs. The moment we noun ourselves we are lost.

Photo taken July 20th, 2020