I Was Wrong.
Three little words least spoken, hardly heard, but powerful beyond imagining. They float around, waiting to be exhaled, and yet rarely are.
Excuses are profuse. Blame abundant. But few will stand up before all and say, “I was wrong.”
Instead it’s, “He did it.”
“I couldn’t have known.”
“It would have been alright if….”
Blah, blah, blah.
I’ve been wrong, many times, in fact. It feels horrible, a gut-wrenching sensation similar to terror at the thought of what others will think, the derision in their gazes as they peer down from their ivory castles of impunity at the one who failed.
They are fools.
The only way to learn is to fail, without it there is no progress, and without acknowledging it humanity cannot grow beyond the ignorance in which it constantly mires. Imagine the world we could create if every man, woman and child learned to stand up and accept blame, knowing those around them will support such strength and help discover a solution….
But I fear it will never happen, not until we are on the brink of catastrophe and can see our own demise in the chasm beyond. Greed is so integrated into our society that instead of helping each other we often ridicule those who fail, and as such cause fear in those who would strive for greatness.
Have I done this?
Absolutely!
I am not blameless, standing on a pillar spouting words of condemnation at those around me without including myself. No, my scorn is directed inward first and foremost, my abhorrence aimed at my own soul. And as such I know we all have such capacity within ourselves, with only one solution:
Embrace blame, accept responsibility, and then move on. There is a certain freedom in such recognition, and a weight will fall away.
I am wrong… but not always. It’s the times I am right which matter, and I only reach those by surviving the rest. All I can do is control that which I can and accept all else as it comes.
And try.
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Topics: Personal, Serious | 7 Comments »
FEAR
It crawls behind your eyelids, scratching through your intestines like a spider created of ice. It lies within the darkness unknown, the screams unheard, the menacing beasts inside every mind waiting to pounce the moment your guard is lowered. Cower before it, or face it down.
Fear.
It comes upon us all, creeping up through the pits of our stomachs during times we want it least, causing our hands to tremble and making the simplest task impossible. Tears yearn to be shed at the mere thought of it and feet try to flee at its faintest whisper. It is the beast in your soul, the monster awaiting, ready to take over your mind with an inferno of panic, rendering you a terrorized victim in its wake.
Walk a beam a foot-wide which sits upon the sidewalk; this task is effortless. Walk the same beam suspended half a mile in the sky and terror overcomes you, making you unable to place one foot in front of the other, dropping you to all fours to crawl like a baby. The task is the same but the power of fear makes it impossible. A tennis ball tossed to you in the bright sunlight from a friend can be caught with ease, but if a man held a gun to the head of the one you cared for most in the world and said that to drop the ball would mean he pulls the trigger and the ball becomes a grain of sand whipped at you within a tornado. The same sunlight which brought you joy would blind you and your hands become lumps of clay, the insurmountable task of such a simple action rendering you incompetent in the wake of the tsunami of panic caused by what might happen should you fail.
But there is hope.
Fear makes fools of us all, and yet it protects us from harm, warning when danger is close and aiding our reflexes with power we cannot usually touch. It all comes down to how it affects you. If you allow fear to rage through you without control, it becomes an unleashed beast, snarling and snapping, which will turn and tear at you. But if you control it, force the creature to be your tool and not your master, it aids you beyond what you might normally hope to achieve, and the snarling beast becomes a burning phoenix within you, aflame but answering your command.
And then you will truly be free.
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Short Story – THE QUEST OF ONE
Below is yet another sample of one of my early stories I never got around to getting published. It is a simple piece, but one that always makes me smile.
THE QUEST OF ONE
The wall swelled in front of Alex and he cringed back in terror, unsure of what would materialize this time. Bulbous eyes emerged first, hanging from stalks like horrific Christmas baubles. Alex curled further into a ball, his mouth agape in a silently wail.
Leaping up, he ran from the room and out into the cavernous hallway, knowing that safety was not far away. Darkness clung to the walls of the hallway and Alex froze once more. What beasts were lurking in the depths of those shadows? What horrors would emerge to drag him screaming back into the abyss with them?
Eyes seemed to emerge from the darkness and the sound of scraping claws on the floorboards echoed throughout the hall. A deathly croak made Alex cry out in terror and then flee back to his room – slamming the door behind him.
He had come so close!
The wall began to bulge again and Alex cried out in terror. This time he was sure that he would die.
Dark claws scrabbled on the other side of the swelling wall before pushing purposefully against it and slicing through as cleanly as hot pee through snow. Alex dropped to the floor, curling into a ball yet again. A head shrouded in shadow pushed its way through the wall and glowing red eyes peered down at him.
Sweat streamed down Alex’s back and tears threatened to burst from within him. He managed to choke them back and once more burst from his room and out into the hallway.
Salvation was not far away. All that he had to do was survive the perils in his way and then everything would be alright. Movement instantly came from all sides and whispers travelled along the moonlight.
Alex took his first tentative steps towards his goal, but the shadows once more crowded around him and terror threatened to overwhelm him once more. Steeling himself against the horrors around him he moved purposefully down the hallway, looking neither left nor right as he did so.
Something brushed against his arm, but with an effort he managed to ignore it. Teeth gnashed at his exposed neck, but he pushed past them and continued on his quest. Running footsteps boomed behind him, but he neither turned nor did he run – he would not give in to his fear.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of horror, Alex made it to the object of his quest. The oak door seemed to tower above him as he reached out for the handle. A wickedly sharp claw lashed out from the keyhole and tried to cut his hand off, but Alex avoided it and slammed the door open.
Finally giving in to his fear, Alex ran through the doorway towards the one thing that would protect him.
Strong arms grabbed him in the darkness and lifted him effortlessly from the ground. Alex fought roughly against the grip of his assailant, but soon realised that the grip was surprisingly gentle. The hands that he had initially thought were attacking him were actually trying to sooth him and he relaxed into the embrace of the giant.
He was the only one who could protect him. The only being in Alex’s universe with the strength and power to destroy the creatures which attacked him in the darkness.
His dad: the biggest and strongest person in the world.
Copyright(C) 2009 Luke Romyn
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