Resilience & the Human-Spirit

I've seen flickered fires & still, you don't flinch

I want to talk about something dear to me, and it’s this topic I hold towards never giving up. There’s praxis for it in me, you withstand your day-to-day all the same. When the world is itching to give you a reason to come undone yet,

You still do not.

That is what I know of the human-spirit,
That is what I hold everyone else to, for if I must be here.
You do as well.

I wanted for so long to run, to the hills, to the beat of my chest…forward if not, adjacent.
Growing up from below the depths of gravity feels like I weather a new storm each day. Another scare, bad test, (and not one in school this time) in a way to keep me down. It likes to tug me to towards a new hell.
Where I would meet my beasts, a maker, flaws…transparently so. Yet, I still, do not falter.

What keeps us around if there’s still, no one to hear you scream. Making it as blood curdling as possible—they still don’t hear you.
So then, be it with you, and you only to dig your way up into new roots from old soil.
I think on the ghosts I’ve seen from passing by, the moments of—”You once said you loved me”
Once were a friend
Lover
Peer

Now as ghosts you echo back and forth memories of false prophets I see at night. It’s sickening to know there’s nothing you can do about it.
Nothing you can do, but watch.
As a cozy spectator to a universe expiring, where is it in you to keep going.

Finding strength in the small tasks, the weird mishaps, the universe almost signals sometimes what it wants—if you pay close enough attention you too, can see it all unravel in front of you.
And for some, all they want is to see that our world’s intertia is catching us up in a realm we could never entertain.
I think in sometimes,
there’s nothing keeping us here so, do I want to watch a demise? Yours? Mine? —we all love conflict these days.

Play into it.

Or not,
Not because it’s the innate right, it could be the wrong as often too. Where is your moral compass? Is it one to point north? Mine leans to whatever pole is pulling me in that particular evening.

There’s still, no giving up, or even, giving strength to those things that would pull us there.
Our human-ness keeps us bound to right. Thankfully. For when someone feels their poles tug them under, quickly bobbing their heads like breaking surface tension of a frozen lake. Their demise is imminent. You’ve seen it all before, I’ve seen it on my screens—so have you. So instead, throwing a hand out to grab is the natural…human aspect we have.

And there lies the beauty to me, the beauty of humility, of being able to be so materially detached for one moment—and willing to spring into action the mere second after. Then maybe, that’s where our human spirit lies.
To readjust a train going so northbound it would reach south again, and knowing that is the wrong course of action.
Correcting the distant future in the moment.

That is what the human-spirit is.

The one that lies for years…better in centuries out in the open. We have the gift of the past in our fingertips or life-blooded DNA coursing through a papercut.
It only takes one drop.

For one in the ocean is enough to pollute even the crystal clear frames. What of it if two? Or in the cut never stemming? Oceanic awakenings.

There’s only a few ways to make it,
And there’s only one thing promised to us all,

Tomorrow.

A better minded moment,
A past that can’t be rewritten but,

A future that is as ever unfolding as a seamstress doing her clothes.
It can be a dress today,
Or a floral patterned shirt the next,
All that’s promised,

Is tomorrow.

-alice

xoxo