Ambiguity

The world, I feel, is full of grey. Meaning, while it is extraordinarily easy to block our existence into black and white, good and bad, wrong and right, it seems more accurate for us all to admit that the majority of what we experience is not so cut and dried. It's nuanced, it's subject to growth and mutation, it has a level of dynamism to it. Often times, we, as humans, exist in this grey area. We physically are existing in a dynamic period, a period where aspirations collide with reality, where hopes are met with the status quo, where everything is confrontational.

Many of you know exactly what I'm talking about, but I'm not going to say what it is.

I've spent a good chunk of my recent life in such a grey area; plenty illustrative of what happens when solid black meets what is at best a middling white. Recently, I suppose, an added element has come into play, something that definitely frustrates my aspirations; puts a dam in the proverbial river of how I had hoped life to continue on. It is an unusual feeling, most assuredly unpleasant, but also, in one respect, extremely liberating.

And my liberating, I mean honest. When confronted with such a situation, the only option is to be honest, because without honesty, a part of you goes away. This is something I've firmly come to believe. In the midst of a swirling tempest of emotion; anger, frustration, heartbreak, confusion; the only way to steady oneself is to know exactly what it is they're standing on. If you can't figure out why you're putting yourself through something that seems so agonizing, what the hell is the point?

I've had to confront honesty recently, I've had to be honest with myself and others. It's a terrifying, albeit simultaneously invigorating, experience. I wish it on no one, yet I wish it on everyone, hopefully under more amiable circumstances. But if you cannot go through life without being honest with yourself and those whom you love, why even bother?

I don't know how this storm is going to end, but unfortunately, I think I have an inkling. That shouldn't stop me trying to turn grey into black or white at least one more time. In the end, we all want assurances, we all want that mystical ambiguity to give way to something more solid, so we can continue on to new challenges. Sometimes, no matter how rational it all seems, how much sense it makes, sometimes it doesn't though. Which will never be understood. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.