Threshold diary: Piercing words
I found a celestial archer, sitting under a tree, fletching arrows. As he saw me approach, he asked, “Have you come to see my show? You are in for a treat. I’ll make you shiver with the words I deliver from my quiver, raining down arrows from my personal heaven.
The hand finds the arrow without eyes. Habit guides its way. Effortlessly, I prepare the shot and discharge it in one move. It’s done. There is no point pondering the trajectory of an arrow that’s already released from stillness, cutting through the air.
It is up to you if my words will only hurt your body, or if you’ll allow them to pierce your mind and penetrate your soul. How many hits can you take before you’re suffocated by the weight?”
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With a challenging look, the archer waited for my response. Yet, I remained still. The archer smiled, “I see you like to protect yourself with an invisibility cloak of silence. Wise choice. I won’t even know if any of my arrows hit. You have been taught well. But I keep attacking, so you may receive what you’re lacking. Ideas yet to ponder, perspectives to process, possibilities to perpetuate confusion, deception, and dissolution. Until they strip everything away what is not pure and sustainable, maintain the persuasive, remove the opinionated. Applicable now, without clinging on in preparation for the future you may never know.”
