Burning

Most people trust in some kind of order to their universe, a feeling that certain things are relatively reliable like gravity and the rotation of the seasons, or the sun coming up.

I also believe that most people find a sense of goodness somewhere in their lives, a place where love and beauty are possible even if it appears they have not actually manifested in the moment. Something to strive for, reach for, live for.

Babies find it in their primary caretaker, parents in their children. I hear the yearning for it in old Irish ballads about mother. I see it in the dreamy eyes of teenagers reaching for their newest idol, or protesters wanting some new Utopian government. It is what religious orders refer to as a calling.

It is easier for it to be something unreachable like God who can never be truly proven to fall, or fail, but it doesn't have to be. It can be in the name of a beloved, in the name of Stan, or Shams, or Jesus. It can be a guru, or teacher, a role model, or even a lover. It is what brings out the very best I have to offer, what is worth living and dying for.

It is a reason to be.

The more aware of it I am, the better my life is. It makes everything else more bearable at the least and extraordinary at the best. It may change over time, but its existence is critical.

I think it may be our way of accessing the spark of life.

Sometimes I burn so fiercely I think I will die from the joy of it.