Cycle

Everything about us, in the sense of nature and evolution loves a cycle. Half the day, and half the night. Waking, sleeping. Start to finish. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. A longing glance, a conversation, the first hug, then the first kiss.

But nature and the mind love complexity, and this world enjoys challenge, strife, and warping time. Love, like growth, like victory is in reality something which requires fuel from you after it is convenient, and easy, and instinctive.

The book will not read itself. The marathon waits for the final step to be over. You push the bar above your chest, or not at all. And especially in this weather, you have the probing of life’s opponents and obstacles.

Why is it not finished? Why are you not letting out your anger? Why won’t you stop? The lukewarm water in our face that will not reset an overtaxed body, and a serotonin bled mind.

Yet we go into the depths of the cycle to come back to its apex. There often in my life is no other way. And no matter how often I curse people saying to me mockingly, as an obvious truth, an insult, a friendly challenge; they are all right.

Day follows night. Deeds beget deeds. You have to pass under the sword in order to complete a solemn ritual, even if it’s only with yourself.

These articles, and the poems which are their constant companions, are both a simple habit to set, then grow into something I’m making corded, fated, like galdr and the kind of Work which defines a lifetime.

To make these things, to see progress in humid evenings, is to perceive and to tackle, and get weary appreciation after the self-loathing, the doubt, the anger.

I know many of you overcome struggle and enter the cycle. Ask yourself, what cycle are you setting, and where is it taking you?