“Life is at the start a chaos in which one is lost. The individual suspects this, but he is frightened at finding himself face to face with this terrible reality, and tries to cover it over with a curtain of fantasy, where everything is clear. It does not worry him that his ‘ideas’ are not true, he uses them as trenches for the defence of his existence, as scarecrows to frighten away reality.
“The man with the clear head is the man who frees himself from those fantastic ‘ideas’ and looks life in the face, realizes that everything in it is problematic, and feels himself lost. As this is the simple truth — that to live is to feel oneself lost — he who accepts it has already begun to find himself, to be on firm ground. Instinctively, as do the shipwrecked, he will look round for something to which to cling, and that tragic, ruthless glance, absolutely sincere, because it is a question of his salvation, will cause him to bring order into the chaos of his life. These are the only genuine ideas; the ideas of the shipwrecked. All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce. He who does not really feel himself lost, is lost without remission; that is to say, he never finds himself, never comes up against his own reality.”
Looking at you I notice what you cannot, behind glasses too dark to see through. In the land of habit, where questioning not during your day in a comfy chair kinda way, slothfulness, body worshiping, blind leading the blind, afraid of the light, hide. To a discerning eye, greatness is visible underneath the costume you wear like skin; most precious it is.
A lighthouse can be a comforting sight when I realize I’m lost. Sensing it wants nothing more than to help me help myself, I welcome its guidance to navigate this boat, brighten the night skies, lead me to where a prosperous, peaceful day lies.
Forward I go into uncharted land, even bigger than I’d dreamt it’d be. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time I face, what I once could not. Then lo, to the delight of my heart I see… it was fear yes fear guiding me.
Beautiful dear Sharon. Who wrote that ?
It was given to my heart yesterday.