Realizing the Mission
I have a mission carved into my brain. I didn’t know this for a long time, I thought I was crazy. Or brain-damaged. Or my I.Q. was low. I spent most of my life questioning myself, and then I began to look around.
This is still going on. Nothing ever truly starts or stops. Realizing this gave rise to dismay in me and stoked my sense of humor. Both dismay and humor are essential to survival, and survival is essential to the mission.
There’s something big out there that needs realizing, and no one’s on the right track. It’s hard to have a sense of humor when you realize this, easier to become dismayed.
I came to realize that it’s okay to be dismayed, and it’s okay to have everything in your life torn to shreds—it’s a form of transformation.
There are no guidelines for how to go about realizing things, but steer clear of organizers and marching bands. You can’t have a marching band without an organizer.
You may think that the objective of having a mission is to change the world, or worse yet, to save it. But that’s wrong thinking. Try to realize this.
When the mission finally takes root in you, you appear to be a simpleton. You become light and gay and even people with poisoned souls smile when they see you coming.
I’ve been wavering in and out of this state for some time now, but it’s too illusive to hang on to.
There was a time when realizing this would have filled me with dismay, but not anymore.
It could be that this is the end of the mission.
It could be that this is all there ever was.