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Purpose

We are the only animals who die twice-

once when the life ends

once in the panic that it meant nothing.

The second death is the expensive one.

Seminars. Retreats. Spiritual shops

A man in linen who has aligned his chakras with your credit card.

 

What is the purpose of a chair ?

The chair did not volunteer.

It was a tree once - indifferent, magnificent,

Soaking blissfully in the rain.

No destiny. No calling.

Just lively woods

and the slow romance with soil and light.

Then came the man with an axe ..

And the audacity of purpose.

You will hold our tired weight and be grateful for the meaning.

 

The fish has no ambition to garnish your plate.

It was busy being a fish,

a flickering soul in the deep,

complete in itself, requiring no narrative.

 

The river does not dream of turbines.

To light your lamps or

Charge your car.

It simply flows.

 

Gods punished sisyphus,

with eternal, futile labor -

rolling a boulder up a hill

only for it to roll back down

It was his assigned purpose.

 

I tell Sisyphus, “put the boulder down”

Not because the gods command it.

Not because a podcast asked to manifest the climb.

Put it down because it is heavy

and you are tired

And that is reason enough

the only kind of reason that was ever real.

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Written by
himquantum
35 / M / San Francisco
Published
Mar 7
Lines·Words
36·229
Tags
#purpose#myth#spirituality#meaning#destiny#sisyphus
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