~ Infestation ~
Propped up potential
Flourishing briefly a time
How fleeting time can be for that spark, that light, that potential, when an infestation slumbers within. Sapping the energy from life, decimating it thoroughly, subtly over time. It’s own design being executed perfectly with timed precision. The life falters, it withers and begins to fade, from existence, potential lost. A new path is upon it now as it transforms. I was thinking of this as I gazed upon a life I tried to save a gift from my partner. It was radiant on day one by day 3 something was afoot and began to show. I tried in jest to help it fight the infection and I failed and sadness did overcome me as it changed in color fading and loosing that spark it had. I know it’s hard buying a plant sometimes in the arctic along with fruits. I remember just the other day buying strawberries I was so excited to enjoy them I enjoyed half the first day so sweet so ripe so delicious, red and bursting with flavor. It made me smile and forget whatever ailed my mind for that moment. The next day when we awoke and went about the day, around midday I thought yes some strawberries and tea. To my surprise however they were no longer so vibrant, one had mold already furry and showing, many others were suddenly squishy and flat on one side, unappetizing. What the hell happened? I queried knowing full well the possible answers, as it seemed to go the same route as avocados I bought not long before.
I say all of that to say it’s something we can only exert a little control over. Ultimately however it is our of our hands. This seems so poignant when you hear of news of people tired of quarantining as though its a punishment they can decide when it should be over. They want after all their lives back the way they were doing what they love. However they do not realize they do not have control over this. They like this orchid were and are unable to see the infestation from within. That sickness eating away at them destroying them til there is nothing left. Some of us will continue doing what we can to help ease and adapt but is this not life in its full spectrum of things that are and things to come? I cannot be angry at the strawberries I cannot demand they stay fresh, I cannot demand this orchid return to what it was I can only adapt and hope to move forward growing and learning and adapting. Fighting off the infestation (or embrace) of death creeping below the surface of everything as long as possible. I myself fight daily the creeping infestations below my surface: hopelessness, death, worthlessness, disappointment, melancholy, disconnection, loneliness, to name but a few.
They creep and linger waking and dissipating only to be reborn again and again in cycles. Cycles of who this life is, what it has been and what if anything it will become.