Atmosphere. Sustenance of shelter; careless and carefree – perfection; this world within a world; security before insecurity is understood, it’s comfortable; no formidable argument could be made to abandon this accommodating abode, nevertheless, venturing into the world above is unavoidable; farewell and good luck. Peer up into the unknown; nerve-racking and overwhelmingly uneasy – yet no other course of action is in play, so press forward; head up. Storms brew over the horizon – darkening skies with an aroma of rain; there’s no other option – ascension remains. A few drops at first; a drizzle of sorts, but it can’t overpower the driving life force. But the drizzle won’t last, the rain goes full throttle; once again found right back at the bottom. The shelter’s still there but it’s just not the same; no more perfection and no more security; regardless, it’s more comfortable than that world outside here. The argument can be made to leave here again, but the desire to hang back stays extraordinarily strong. There’s a faint, distant light – it can be seen through the blanket of black; it ignites that life force – yet one more attempt to venture out of this shelter; the decision’s been made – now to press on, to that world up above, in search of a life that’s worth living; and for love.
“The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out,
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.”
My fascination and interest in children’s books is no secret, especially the likes of a Dr. Seuss (Theodore Geisel) or Shel Silverstein – more so now than when I was actually a child. The wisdom hidden or implied within their pages is the knowledge of genius’s leveled down into words and sentences a kid can understand, read, and enjoy. This is not to say that children generally comprehend or see what we can as adults, but it’s still pretty interesting that all those nursery rhymes and beginner’s books are being stored into the memory of a forming brain; that later on we can look back and say to ourselves, “whoa, that’s what that meant?” The itsy bitsy spider translates much different to me now than it did twenty-five years ago – that spider is me, I relate to it; my whole life I’ve been climbing up the waterspout and then alcoholism showed up and wiped me out – completely. But the rhyme doesn’t end there; the rhyme goes on – there was light and subsequently there was hope; the storm passed; the spider could have conceded and gave up, what’s the use? He was so far up that waterspout at one point and to start all over again would be too hard and overwhelming; the cards were stacked against him – surely there would be more storms; it would just be easier and more comfortable to stay put at the bottom; but the spider chose to climb nevertheless and that, in and of itself, is respectable. That’s the attitude it’s going to take to make it in a life of recovery.
“Oh the places you’ll go, today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting so…get on your way!”
– Dr. Seuss