July 3, 2014

‘People always say, be true to yourself. But that’s misleading, because there are two selves. There’s your short term self, and there’s your long term self. And if you’re only true to your short term self, your long term self slowly decays.’

– Anonymous New Yorker

The short term comes at the expense of the long term. The single-lined spectrum monstrofies when reality warps onto fantasy. To shoot for one means the destruction of the other. We are our own patch of soil, and wildflowers spring forth faster and bolder than the oak. But the oak is a kingly wood. Each season has its passing, and cannot be returned.  Every season spent tending our wildflowers costs the oak one to grow; and the riches of the soil cease. Wildflowers are well and good for the wedding aisle, but who will shelter you from the storms of life? The wildflower has no roots you may hope in.

What then? Shall you throw away the acorn you’ve been given, and scatter wild seeds instead? The hope of a home could come in a shape as ungainly as this. Unassuming, plain and stringy, the stuff of hallway jokes. A promise held out, and no more. Awkward, unobtrusive and shy. You won’t get anymore from an acorn guy.

Mayn’t a wildflower join with an oak, you ask. What would an oak have with a wildflower- what business does light have with darkness? The wildflower couldn’t last long enough to be friends. Even the giving tree had enough of itself, for a lifetime.

You see I still struggle, and meanwhile my oak remains small. For someone attracted to bright lights, the steadiness of the oak appears dull. But it is my eyes which have grown dim, and need to see. That the strength of the oak is worthy of kings.


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