worn me down to my knees

i wonder if it is possible to plunge into a midlife crisis far before the midline of any life; a rift in the self due to some major anagnorisis occuring far ahead of schedule because of forcefully accelerated thought?

by choice for swifter learning and greater understanding, or increased value per unit time, essentially greater knowledge gained in one lifetime; by cost, brutally but necessarily a shorter psychological lifespan left to discover what remains.

when a catastrophic event occurs in a person's life, only one thing can push him over the cusp of sanity--his own thoughts. a sorry interpretation of the latest world from behind the eyes holds a power so fearful it mires even those among the most footed of minds. ironically a rationalisation of brain chemistry in depression owns a leash so reliable it can rescue even the most spineless of them. by fire be burned; by fire be purged.

if i figure the lesson of my disaster to be that my own mind is both my poison and my elixir then i must soon find the fulcrum in the scale of intuition and ignorance, lest i slide irreversibly in either direction--wherein both cases i suffer in the very same pit of a life crisis, dug and fired by my own spade and flame.

i listen to susan boyle's 'how great thou art' on loop at half speed for the past hour and i wonder if that road i walked away from so many years ago still lies paved. the one i have been on for the past two years is, but i no longer see what i love seeing far behind nor up ahead and it worries me deeply that this path is but an orbit of a star i could any time suspect to have been dead since the beginning. i respectfully refrain from digging further.

suppose i drop everything dear, forsake my clothing and forget my gold. suppose i get on a camel's back and try to ride through the eye of a needle... is that what i need to do in order to uncloud this aberration in my life's trajectory? or would i simply then be fulfilling your parable because i would fail miserably?

two thousand and nine, in the year of your day; one opens and one closes and i am still an unaimed turret, so in these last days i ask that you help me grind my lens back into focus, so that i may find that balance. so that i may find that fulcrum, to ground me in the one that is about to open, and from this may i also be a fulcrum to those around me for all the days in the one about to open, two thousand and ten, in the year of your day.

ps 14 jan 2010 i dropped half of everything and created a space in my heart.