We are the builders of our fates, our destiny, our lives. It is not to others we look when we have endured another bout of the Storm, but within ourselves. If to others we rely upon to rebuild our selves and our lives after the Storm has receeded, thento others we become slaves. We become dependent upon them to fill our artificial Shell with substance and meaning. What is our hidden core remains secret and silent.
I survive, not because others give me strength, but because I claw my way out of the pit to take the rejuvenating breath of life. My determination and Will provide handholds to cling to in the face of adversity.
Others may indeed be inspiration, may be companions upon the same road, may lend momentary assistance. But all of this is meaningless if we do not have within ourselves the necessary strength with which to continue living, breathing, fighting.
Life is a constant struggle against death- from the moment we are born we are hurtling towards the grave. Our days are numbered, yet we hope and work to make them last a lifetime. When we are struck with a lash of energy from the storm,and fall to our knees, we will rise again.
My life as it is may disappear in the blink of an eye, or the drawing of one breath, but it lies within my power to transform what remains into a new temple. Stronger, more flexible, one which bends with the fresh onslaught of those without, one which withstands destruction. With each transformation I grow.
That seed of the soul is protected, nurtured, gaining in awareness and power until it breaks free of the reliance upon others, enveloped by this new creature which I have become.
I am old, yet new. I am worn, yet hardy. I have endured countless trials to the soul and survived, nay, not only survived but grown. The journey has taken countless ages, yet just begun. I hold all knowledge and power, yet have nothing.
With these hands I begin anew, with this day I awaken to music.
The beat of the drum, the clang of the hammer upon anvil.
And the process of forging my soul commences.