An exercise in weaving wisdom into stories.
---
You’ve been running for hours.
Sweat, covering every inch of your skin.
Some hundreds angry strangers have been trying to chop you into pieces for a few days now.
But somehow, you’ve still alive.
And it makes sense; You’re one of the best warriors the tribe has ever known.
Years of training, friends lost, pain endured, have brought you here.
To this moment.
After everything that has happened, you say to yourself, you should finally begin to get it now.
Why you’re here.
What you’re fighting for.
But you don’t.
Your mind, once sharp, is now clogged with dust.
You’re brushing off blood from your face with your left arm, the one you still have left.
Oh, how you wished you were a bird at this moment.
You see them watching the battlefield, drifting effortlessly above all the mashed bodies.
Shrugging it off while they pass off to the west, guided by the winds.
There’s something these bird have, that you desperately crave.
Perspective.
As you fight amongst the other bodies, sacrificing their life for a bigger cause they don’t grasp, you don’t see the whole picture.
You’re limited by your senses and by the present moment.
You’re stuck reacting to what happens.
Never getting enough time to breathe and think.
On the field, you got lost in the moment.
You forgot what brought you here in the first place.
You forgot your place.
You forgot that you‘ve decided to be here.
You spent months thinking about this, inking every detail.
With a map, plotting the whole situation with intention.
All these men in the field, you’ve placed them there on a map before, didn’t you?
Oh… you thought you were a soldier now, is that it?
After all, this is all your plan General.
---
You’ve been running for hours.
Sweat, covering every inch of your skin.
Some hundreds angry strangers have been trying to chop you into pieces for a few days now.
But somehow, you’ve still alive.
And it makes sense; You’re one of the best warriors the tribe has ever known.
Years of training, friends lost, pain endured, have brought you here.
To this moment.
After everything that has happened, you say to yourself, you should finally begin to get it now.
Why you’re here.
What you’re fighting for.
But you don’t.
Your mind, once sharp, is now clogged with dust.
You’re brushing off blood from your face with your left arm, the one you still have left.
Oh, how you wished you were a bird at this moment.
You see them watching the battlefield, drifting effortlessly above all the mashed bodies.
Shrugging it off while they pass off to the west, guided by the winds.
There’s something these bird have, that you desperately crave.
Perspective.
As you fight amongst the other bodies, sacrificing their life for a bigger cause they don’t grasp, you don’t see the whole picture.
You’re limited by your senses and by the present moment.
You’re stuck reacting to what happens.
Never getting enough time to breathe and think.
On the field, you got lost in the moment.
You forgot what brought you here in the first place.
You forgot your place.
You forgot that you‘ve decided to be here.
You spent months thinking about this, inking every detail.
With a map, plotting the whole situation with intention.
All these men in the field, you’ve placed them there on a map before, didn’t you?
Oh… you thought you were a soldier now, is that it?
After all, this is all your plan General.
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