This is my second attempt to put this in a way that.... I can put it safely.
Sometimes you just plain are not safe. Often actually the safety and peace I find is not in real security, but relative security.
So what I'm trying to say isn't totally safe, only relatively.
Now I'm speaking metaphorically, not literally. I don't want to demean anyone in actual danger for their life.
It's like running from a pack of wolves with several others trying to escape. If you are lucky (as I am) you aren't picked off early. Instead one is forced to watch as the wolves begin to tear and rip into the other humans. Granted as we share the danger, we all keep a sense of gallows humor. There is no anger or bad attitude towards the others trying to escape. However since one is not rooting for the others to fail, the empathy can create an overwhelming sense of hopelessness.
I don't mean hopeless in the sense of depression or even real or total fear. I mean hopeless in terms of a lack of rational escape. Can you relate?
The detail on which the danger twists is the hunger of the wolves. They hunger for our flesh (again, remember this is a metaphor). So even as one of us watches the other fall, or have a narrow escape there is a very real sense that even though this time it wasn't us, next time who knows?
I wish I could write such things from pure imagination, but this is externally sourced. Of course at the moment identifying the source would be metephorically taunting or feeding the wolves. A smart runner does not do that. Granted in today's world who knows which wolves I speak of. Maybe you know them, or maybe it's entirely coincidental. Perhaps it is only the vanity of the human psyche that draws relationship between others emotions and ourselves. Or perhaps it has to do with the complexity of empathy, or maybe even guilt.
But of course if wolves had a healthy psyche capable of empathy...... well I'm not sure what they would be at that point. Not wolves, that's one certainty. Yet isn't that the great challenge of forgiveness? To forgive that which behaves inhumanly, empathy for the cruel, kindness to the callous and perhaps even hoping that even in the insane and demoralizing there is yet purpose.
---
Yes, I think that will do. Someday I may tell you who the wolves were, and why they hunted me.
Sometimes you just plain are not safe. Often actually the safety and peace I find is not in real security, but relative security.
So what I'm trying to say isn't totally safe, only relatively.
Now I'm speaking metaphorically, not literally. I don't want to demean anyone in actual danger for their life.
It's like running from a pack of wolves with several others trying to escape. If you are lucky (as I am) you aren't picked off early. Instead one is forced to watch as the wolves begin to tear and rip into the other humans. Granted as we share the danger, we all keep a sense of gallows humor. There is no anger or bad attitude towards the others trying to escape. However since one is not rooting for the others to fail, the empathy can create an overwhelming sense of hopelessness.
I don't mean hopeless in the sense of depression or even real or total fear. I mean hopeless in terms of a lack of rational escape. Can you relate?
The detail on which the danger twists is the hunger of the wolves. They hunger for our flesh (again, remember this is a metaphor). So even as one of us watches the other fall, or have a narrow escape there is a very real sense that even though this time it wasn't us, next time who knows?
I wish I could write such things from pure imagination, but this is externally sourced. Of course at the moment identifying the source would be metephorically taunting or feeding the wolves. A smart runner does not do that. Granted in today's world who knows which wolves I speak of. Maybe you know them, or maybe it's entirely coincidental. Perhaps it is only the vanity of the human psyche that draws relationship between others emotions and ourselves. Or perhaps it has to do with the complexity of empathy, or maybe even guilt.
But of course if wolves had a healthy psyche capable of empathy...... well I'm not sure what they would be at that point. Not wolves, that's one certainty. Yet isn't that the great challenge of forgiveness? To forgive that which behaves inhumanly, empathy for the cruel, kindness to the callous and perhaps even hoping that even in the insane and demoralizing there is yet purpose.
---
Yes, I think that will do. Someday I may tell you who the wolves were, and why they hunted me.
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