It has me in a colosseum.

Without weapons, without armour.

I have my bare, clenched fists filled with intention and I’m swinging wildly.

My knuckles are bleeding, skin is torn

Yet I continue to swing and fight,

only to see I’m taking punches from ghosts.


An Ocean


If anything, life is a vast ocean. Constantly moving, swelling and crashing. And just like the weather doesn’t only affect one drop, it affects vast regions of ocean. You and I? We are the humble boats, luxury yachts and big corporate tankers. It matters not what you have as cargo. It can be two creatures in a boat with nothing more than raincoats and umbrellas. I’ve seen galleons and massive tankers succumb to violent storms only to be swallowed by the ocean, precious cargo and all. The wake the bigger vessels create, affects the others, especially the humble boats. They don’t care. They care too much for their precious cargo, even if it destroys them and this ocean we are all sailing.

So what is it that we are doing adrift this vast, endless ocean? I suspect to find dry land. A place to call home. A place that offers a little relief from the storms and sea-sickness. No doubt we will eventually get wet. That is life. A rain drop. A drop of ocean.
Why find steady shores? Well,for one, we cannot survive indefinitely at sea and I for one, find the wake of other vessels, both large and small and the unnecessary violent storms, are making me sea sick. The crests and troughs are making me vomit. Vomit from excitement, vomit from pain, vomit from love, vomit from the asshole corporate tankers creating unnecessary wakes in peaceful lakes and it makes me sick. Sometimes I want to drop anchor and feel my feet on solid ground. Feel the sand on my feet and try keep some food down before I empty myself and contract scurvy.
How very often the storms and wakes causes us to focus on the nausea, the ups and downs and the bailing of water from out our boat, that we rarely observe the nature of the weather itself. Eventually we will get drenched and not every storm can be avoided, but surely we can see the tell tale signs of those storms that can wreck our boats so we can make appropriate calls?

So what of life? There is no right answer, only lessons. I have learned not to become overly preoccupied with our boats, luxury yachts, tankers and cargoes. Interact with the ocean and appreciate the weather, sail the rough patches, get wet, avoid unnecessary storms and search for dry lands.
Be wary who you allow on-board and who you bail out water for. There are vessels out there that have holes in their hulls and yet their cargo is at capacity and all they seem to do on this ocean is continuously bail water from their boat and remain static and lost at sea. No time to search for land. No time for home.

Sail the oceans and seas, drop anchor in a lake, find that dry land and know that you leave a wake behind you.