When I was fifteen years old, I was producing videos and public service announcements that focused on topics such as ‘crystal meth epidemics in rural communities’, ‘homelessness’, and ‘human rights violations’.
I was barely even conscious at this point in time, but yet, I had a stronger sense of self, and a stronger sense of purpose than I do now, almost twice the age.
While I have certainly digressed from the initial path I set off on in the world of video production and digital story telling, I am happy to have made it through the last 13 years with the same amount of integrity and humility.
They say that if you sit in the dark for long enough, that your eyes will eventually adjust to the lighting and will begin to expose the images around you in their true form.
The more you expose yourself to the dark, the stronger your vision becomes in that circumstance.
I wonder if this is true of the darkness that is felt when partnered with pain?
Do our hearts and minds become more capable of adjusting to living with pain when we expose ourselves to it for long periods of time?
Are we able still, to adjust to the weight we carry around in our chests and experience the enlightenment that comes with feeling free of this pain?
Like the aperture of our eyes, do our bodies learn to adapt to the circumstance of the human condition and allow our hearts to reflect this in an honest light?
And on the contrary, if we do adjust to circumstance, a change in exposure, so to speak, do we then weaken our abilities to see clearly while absorbed in the warmth of the sunlight?
In the same way that we cling to a flashlight in the dark, does our instinct become to shade out eyes from the light in order to retain our now clear vision in the dark?
Do we subconsciously keep our hearts tangled and heavy in order to avoid having to adjust to the weightlessness that comes with feeling free of pain, at ease, content?
Do we hold on to our pain as an attempt to remain in a consistent state of emotion rather than feel the motions of healing?
And furthermore, is there the possibility of becoming adaptable to all measures of light, to all variances of emotion?
Is there a balance between contrast of the cold chill of the midnight sky and the heat of the rising sun?
Is there a twilight of emotion that passes with the blue skies as the clouds make way for the night?
Can we capture this, and stay perfectly exposed, or are our emotions simply variables that determine our exposure in life.
Autofocus, where art thou?
Nothing ever really leaves.
Even long after you have moved on, the impacts are still there, instilled into the fibres of you. It’s like a home that was built with strong hands, that slowly weakens, and over time falls apart. Each door swinging open and closed, open and closed again, the turn of the handle, the flick of the switch, the footsteps lightly sweeping down the hallways and out the front porch. The creeks in the floor boards from steady movements passing through hallways from room to room. Every movement creates impact and change.
Our bodies lying still at night, pressing their empty weight upon the cotton sheets, limbs sinking into the mattress, down through the box spring, to where the bed frame meets the floorboards beneath. Pressure exists in the stillest of places and simply existing comes with a great weight.
Nothing ever really leaves.
Underneath the feet of others, is not a comfortable place from which to view the world, but sometimes it is completely necessary to gain that added perspective; it offers you a more well rounded view of the world around you and reignites your compassion.
As intellectuals, we have the ability to choose one channel of thought over the other, and that is a virtue that we should not take for granted. It is our responsibility to nurture our own perspective, because ultimately your attitude determines your altitude in life.