Fear and Pirates

'Tis a beautiful day:

The rain is falling.

Plants are growing.

I'm listening to soothing music.

I ate a large breakfast.

Conversations are starting.

Solutions are being found.

Opportunities are being fostered.

Support is abounding.

My heart is resounding.

God is in control.

The only real downside is that I haven't had bacon in a long time.

What other news is there? There is too much news. I won't delve into it all now.

Honestly, I'd rather share the rain and the music. I'd rather smoke a pipe and play a board game. I'd rather talk about hopes and dreams. I'd rather read a book or go to a movie. I'd rather make a craft, play with Legos, or finger-paint.

To some extent, I miss Saturday morning cartoons. It was the most triumphant time for a middle schooler back in the day: the week had been overcome, and one could lavish in the luxurious laziness known as Nickelodeon.

I often feel nostalgia for the past: how things were easier or more satisfying or more exciting or what have you. As far as I can tell, things are exactly the same besides the change in scale. Challenges are more devilish, but successes are more glorious to match. Fatigue is more debilitating, but excitement is equally more rejuvenating. Despair is more abounding, but hope is all the more piercing.

Relationships are so much more powerful too, though: both more healing and more caustic. I am amazed at how much warmth I see reverberating from hearts. At the same time, I have even been terrified by the amount of venom that spews from hearts—sometimes from the very same hearts.

Fear: I think it is fear that poisons so many. Even the strongest, wisest, noblest have these fissures of fear that wreak havoc whenever the tectonic plates are shifted.

God is in control.

Inside of that, it becomes pretty simple.

There have been many castes of pirates over the centuries: honest ones that were government-paid privateers, vile ones that were murderous and psychotic, edgy ones that were imperialistic, extravagant ones that were as greedy as anyone else, and many more.

Some pirates — and definitely the romanticized Disney ones — were honorable rule-breakers. I admire the rule-breakers, the ones who brazenly defy or don't even sense the senseless rules. I'm trying to articulate it delicately, but, really, it's just a sick dance. We fabricate restrictions because we fear, and then we submit to and enforce these fabricated restrictions because we fear. It's the equivalent of a bunch of monkeys beating each other for no reason. Fear, fear, and more fear.

Unfortunately, to change these fears, one monkey at a time must endure beatings.

So there are defiant monkeys, rule-breakers, pirates. A man must ask what he can do and what he can't do; then he must choose and do.