10:43 a.m. - Sunday, Jan. 08, 2012
Libera Me
Hand upon the cold bark of a sturdy tree, steadying the body . . .propelling it forward over the rocky trail as the sun sinks below the horizon.
Cold drops of rain cooling the flushed cheeks, flashlight illuminating the next obstacle to prevent the toe from stubbing yet again and rubbing the already raw skin on the back of the heel.
Happy with no one to see the body, happy with no one to test the mind.
Happy to be aware of the singular goal of following squares of yellow through the woods for exactly 3.1 miles - according to the map.
There are two theories. Two motivations.
One: Self-destructive behaviors feel good. They satisy the need to punish. They alleviate the anger by following through with action against that which causes the anger - the self. A french fry instead of a fruit. A nap instead of a walk. A comparison instead of an affirmation. Words, words, words. A drink, a slice, a drug, a man. Living in the shadows, spinning the mind like a broken record.
Two: Seeking to release from the body and mind which hold the self captive, thoughts turn to ways in which to manifest in a more manufactured scenario. To allow for either complete acceptance or complete liberation.
There's an idea. Liberation.
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