I walk in the hot Jerusalem sun, and one thought keeps echoing in my head: “let go, let go”. Like an oasis, seen from far away inside a large desert. Run fast enough, you’ll get there, you’ll jump off a high cliff, submerge in the cold, glistening, beautiful water. Let go! You will feel free! Let go…
Let go and you’ll release the pressures of the past, the needles stuck inside your body, those that refuse to let go of you – but, more correctly, you are the one that refuses to let them go. Because they are reminders. Reminders that you can get through anything, you are strong enough, you are a fighter – but mostly, reminders that you must never halt the fight.
Let go, I hear. But I hold on. I am a fighter in the first line of fire. I will not back down, why should I? This is my survival game. On the one shoulder, sits my peaceful oasis, whispering, with such charm, come on, come on, let go… on the other, my fighting spirit: don’t do it! Last time you let go… you were born as a fighter!
Let go? Just jump into ice-cold water? Let go of being on guard all the time, of being ready for the next attack? Yes, answers the peaceful oasis.
I am afraid to lose my fighting spirit – afraid to thank the past, a guide and a friend, a teacher and a sage. The past is not dead. The past lives within me, every day. It reminds me that I must fight, I have to fight. For if I close both eyes and fall asleep, if I float, trust, love, and keep, what will come of me? Death will surround me one more time, death of the soul.
Am I not already dead? Dead tired… tired of always guarding, keeping order within myself. Always being ready. Am I not dead tired of keeping the past within me, of knowing it, feeling it, of not living a present, of maybe dreaming of a future – but what kind of future may that be? One of being ready, ready for the next war. So much violence inside one gentle body.
No one will enter this fortress without begging for the key first. Not this time.
Inner-peace – it is a myth, a dream for me. I am a locked fortress, with a guard. The guard does not sleep, no, not even at night.
Let go, let go, I hear the water whispering. Beautiful, so calm, in the sun. The kind of water you can see through to the very bottom, because of its mesmerizing clarity. Shall I? Maybe just this once, I am so tempted.
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