What is this allure from the candle light that brings about a rigid definition? As the flame dances higher from a light brush of a person moving through the room, it is also taking on new forms, new identities, but has the composition of that flame ever really changed? Is it not still just fire? Watching as it moves vertically between peace and violence as the changes in air pressure occur, it is easy to want to cast the current shape as the definition of that flame. Yet, it is not so simple. As each moment passes it never reaches a state it has experienced in the past. Even now as we speak, it is already anew.
Are humans so fluid as well? Can it really be that with our summer breeze we are simply the form we take at that moment, only to be whisked into a spiraling format once the hurricanes of fall bring new climate patterns? Why then is it so tempting to give a term to label that definition of now, in spring, with an intertwining ideal of the blizzard experienced last winter? There isn’t such segregation and compartmentalizing within the human animal. The mind desires to make sense of it all, in fact it is ravenous to wind the thread of an exact set of terminology where it draws upon past mistake, current unease, and future apprehension into a tight ball of twine.
I am not myself of yesterday, and I cannot imagine the self I am tomorrow. Only the current state of disrepair can I look within, fearlessly, to realize there is no such thing as this dis-ease. There is really no need to place a name, a shape, a definition to it at all. It just “is” and I just “am.”