Friday, March 23, 2012

Fists of Fury

It's been a week-long chore staying calm. My nerves feel like they've been exposed to ice. Self-expectation pulling & stretching them taunt, creating a brittle sensation. On Wednesday, I wrote in my journal: 'suffered massively by panic attacks, jolts of nervousness thru-out the day. It was all I could do to choke them back into a semblance of calm & control.' There were times where this nervousness felt like withdrawal, a feeling I remember well. That which is almost stronger then your entire being is unforgettable. Such feelings bring about a sharp edged melancholy that permeates every...single...fiber...
of your being. It brings on THE THIRST of old. My tongue wriggles its way across the dry deserts of my mouth, wanting, thirsting for that Amber river; That liquid heaven that so readily thru me into the yawning mouth of a burning Hell. The sodden yarn of anxiety balled heavily in my stomach won't dissipate. I'm thirsty. My body wants to scream ire into the void, but my tongue ties itself. I've become good at holding such things in, wanting to have the patience of a flower. I need the crag. Need to fall into to the zenetopia that only I can create for myself. I need the blank that exists w/in the shadows of our everyday thoughts...

...The week's distress culminates into this. Into...this night. & then tomorrow. This weekend will include 3 full days of climbing. I will be attempting to tick off as many routes as I possibly can. Whether it is only 1 route, or 2, or 3, I cannot say. My brain is muddled at the moment. Struggling I am to come to terms w/ this project, this...goal. 31 is quickly becoming about quittance. About paying a Karmic debt that is deeper than any ocean, more expansive than any stretch of space, more important than I could have imagined. It has become repayment to the wrongs I've beckoned forth to my brother, to all those whom I don't even know, to a humanity I feel indebted to from my actions, a silly thought, perhaps, but a serious one; it has become about proving myself to Haggle. To show her my inherent worth. & to myself. To display to myself what lies w/in. To realize that the word POSSIBILITY doesn't just have to be a word, but rather an action...

...All this circus thinking has me clouded. Brightening a dull light of fear. Rheinhold Messner wrote: 'Fear is like a clenched fist. Only an open hand needs no energy.'

I look down upon my hands. They are fists of fury. Knuckles white & stone-like. I breath & relax my focused energy. My fingers slowly spread out, limp at the tips, palms down, & I stare. For the moment I let go. Release myself to that which simply is. I breath. Tomorrow will be what tomorrow will be, & this action, this thought, slides thru me easily, & I am eased enuf to hit the 'ENTER' button & ….

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