A Journey of One

Here it is: I’m putting my story out into the world, the deepest and most private parts of myself. I’m sharing myself with you, but you aren’t listening or truly seeing. How long it will take for people to start noticing the depth in others, nor if they’ll ever explore their own being. But this I know: the choice to seek is theirs, if only they have the will.

I’m not writing this so much for other people; I’m doing it for myself. It’s for that solitary part of me, wrestling to understand and learn about itself. I’ll never grasp why we are so blind in front of ourselves. This story has taken me years to complete. It was a panful battle of mind, soul, and body – which ironically create the life we live. I don’t even know exactly how long it took, but it was certainly hundreds of full moons and countless stories I started just to complete this one. It was for sure a painful and difficult process, I can tell you that. Every second of this work brings the torment of incompleteness and imperfection.

This work makes you feel so fulfilled, The paradox is that you feel like you gain nothing except the relentless urge to prove yourself more perfect. The concepts of time and limitation are crushing, as is the fear of being misunderstood and ignored.

I spent so many hours changing the story, thinking it was naive and childish. I spent so much time trying to write something that everyone would understand and like, just so I wouldn’t be ignored, because that really hurts. At times, I didn’t even care if I was understood, thinking my own world was better than others’. That was truly childish. I only started creating when I let go of the need for constant perfection and the daily pressure to fit into human limitations. This material work now stands as proof of my personal struggle, written for you, the witnesses of the era in which it came to be.

No one can believe how truly happy I am right now. No one will ever truly see what I feel in my heart. I know my eyes appear subtly gray and empty, and no one can see them the way I do. For too long, I looked into my own eyes and lied to myself. But no more. Now, I transcend everything that exists, everything that moves. I dare to change and love this world in a way that is uniquely my own. What I am now is full of life’s joy.

Everyone else sees my eyes as a sad reflection of humanity, but perceive them as the only sincere source of life’s joy, a spark of happiness that surrounds me. This spark of happiness comes from the fact that I’m alive, able to love.

I’m finishing this confusing, yet beautiful story. I’m happy because I know this story will be the only one worth reading for people like me—those who might not always know what they think, say, or write, but who think, speak, and write from their soul essence, because that’s who they are.

No one will ever fully understand you; rest assured of that. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you understand yourself, because that’s how you grow. No one will tell you how hard it is to be in your own head, how heavy and unbearable those feelings of sadness and happiness are. No one, absolutely no one, because no one else will know the exact same feelings as you. They might feel sorry for you, or sympathize, but don’t even allow that. You are strong enough to fight your own battles. You just need to admit that to yourself.

Finally, I’ll give you one piece of advice. Observe people not solely through their actions, but by what prompted those actions. Please, use this when you judge, or even admire, another ordinary human being. If we choose, we can be part of that effort, but only if we have the strength to confront ourselves.

David E. Kiefermond