"The Siren, The Lake, and The Fool"
There I was.
Standing on the shore of a frozen lake amidst a winter crisp wood. Content to simply walk by enjoying the crisp air and rustic scenery, I hear a voice calling to me. A sweet sweet song calls to me from the icy depths. Curious I step onto the ice and take a few steps out.
The song grows sweeter so further I venture. Every step I advance towards the song's source the thinner the ice becomes. I know this. My intuition warns me to be cautious, to turn away. I ignore it, assuming its simply fear of the unknown. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? So, cautiously, I advance.
A frigid wind stings my face, making quite clear just how cold my destination is as the gust passes over it moments before connecting with me. My gut screams at me with a clarity and intensity far colder than the wind. I look to the ice, through the ice, into the darkness. A shadow far darker stands out, a silhouette of the Siren that beckons me. Another step brings me past the point of no return. Her song embitters just enough to tug at my heart. She's so cold. I could save her from the frozen shadows, thaw her heart, warm her soul with my own.
Yet, I realize I know not at what I gaze, at that I desire. Is she a victim? Or is she a predator... In these frigid waters she is no doubt both. Preying upon my warmth and strength simply to survive. This beauty of a beast is no stranger to these waters, I realize. She will survive without my sacrifice.
Her song grows angry, desperate, and hungry. It digs its claws into my heart as I turn to walk the long walk back to shore... back to the safety of the wood. I turn my back to the Siren. What happens next, I do not know. I haven't made it back to shore yet.
To be continued....
This is a true story told in metaphor.
The moral of the story is simple... sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice is meaningless. We sometimes walk right into the jaws of darkness, knowing exactly what will become of us. Typically we listen to that nagging, even screaming, warning to turn back. Occasionally we ignore it. The motives to do so vary wildly. Yet, in the end, it comes down to the simplest and at the same time the most complex choice of all. Live or die. Of all of nature's creatures we hold our fate in our own hands, in spite of our instincts. Its both fascinating and tragic in equal measure. For those of you who shared this experience with me, I thank you for your time.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
There I was.
Standing on the shore of a frozen lake amidst a winter crisp wood. Content to simply walk by enjoying the crisp air and rustic scenery, I hear a voice calling to me. A sweet sweet song calls to me from the icy depths. Curious I step onto the ice and take a few steps out.
The song grows sweeter so further I venture. Every step I advance towards the song's source the thinner the ice becomes. I know this. My intuition warns me to be cautious, to turn away. I ignore it, assuming its simply fear of the unknown. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? So, cautiously, I advance.
A frigid wind stings my face, making quite clear just how cold my destination is as the gust passes over it moments before connecting with me. My gut screams at me with a clarity and intensity far colder than the wind. I look to the ice, through the ice, into the darkness. A shadow far darker stands out, a silhouette of the Siren that beckons me. Another step brings me past the point of no return. Her song embitters just enough to tug at my heart. She's so cold. I could save her from the frozen shadows, thaw her heart, warm her soul with my own.
Yet, I realize I know not at what I gaze, at that I desire. Is she a victim? Or is she a predator... In these frigid waters she is no doubt both. Preying upon my warmth and strength simply to survive. This beauty of a beast is no stranger to these waters, I realize. She will survive without my sacrifice.
Her song grows angry, desperate, and hungry. It digs its claws into my heart as I turn to walk the long walk back to shore... back to the safety of the wood. I turn my back to the Siren. What happens next, I do not know. I haven't made it back to shore yet.
To be continued....
This is a true story told in metaphor.
The moral of the story is simple... sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice is meaningless. We sometimes walk right into the jaws of darkness, knowing exactly what will become of us. Typically we listen to that nagging, even screaming, warning to turn back. Occasionally we ignore it. The motives to do so vary wildly. Yet, in the end, it comes down to the simplest and at the same time the most complex choice of all. Live or die. Of all of nature's creatures we hold our fate in our own hands, in spite of our instincts. Its both fascinating and tragic in equal measure. For those of you who shared this experience with me, I thank you for your time.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
riae:
