I cherish my softness. If I am not permeable and porous, then how can you get into me? And you have already sensed how very desperately I want you to break through my barriers so that I can feel you deep inside me churning and shape-changing in my gut as if you were my child or some divine catalyst. (Which of course you are.) I want to be transmuted by you.
But this world wants us to be hard and autonomous. It wants me not to need you. It worships the anodized, case-hardened things, the bullets that pierce the fluid confusion that is our existence. The Triumphant. The Vain. The Self-Assured. The Driven. The Single-Minded – these are the world’s heroes.
But not mine. The Doubtful. The Uncertain. The Yearning. The Wounded. The Searchers. These are my tribe.
But to remain soft in this world, you must become hard. I am tired of all those who want to own and define me. Friends and lovers will try to contain and compartmentalize you; they will flee from your openness, your need. To resist the endless entreaties to become reinforced and impregnable, you must build a high barricade around your soft center.
If you want to remain soft, you must become very hard.
Always thought provking and beautifully written. Kevin wields his pen with the same grace and rhythm he brings to the harmonica.
Beautifully written and as Joe says above, very thought provoking. I guess a problem with a hard, protective shell only occurs if by allowing ourselves to become completely immersed in the myriad distractions of daily life, our attention fragments and neglects to tend that inner, soft part of ourselves so that we become unaware of a creeping ossification taking place as that shell grows ever thicker until it reaches our very hearts. One thing is for sure Kevin, that is not going to happen to you!
Joe: Many, many thanks for your kind (and poetic) words. I going to start using it in my press bio: “Kevin wields his pen with the same grace and rhythm he brings to the harmonica” — Joe D. It’s great. Thanks!