Chaos

When chaos is all we’ve ever known, the first taste of peace makes the world of chaos feel so small.

Child’s play.

When our eyes and ears insist the world is painful—that broken egos justify broken homes—and we finally encounter humility, worthiness, and calm, it feels like a cosmic deception.

We were handed dim shades and told, "This is the world. Enjoy it if you can. Claw for what’s yours and fight like hell the moment you feel shorted of it.”

Fleeting slivers of light whisper to us, hinting at all existence can hold, only to vanish when we try to look directly at them.

For those who grow up—and not everyone does—there’s a reckoning.

We confront the lie.

We rip off the shades.

We shake our fists at the grand deception.

And then we face a choice.

Some put the shades back on.

Others turn away and are absorbed into the light.

And some grow angry.

Very, very angry.

But oh, is it ever a choice.

Even if, at first, we can’t see it.

Even if it feels far away.

Even if our only choice is the determination to make a choice.

Still… there remains a choice.