I have reached my low point, the very bottom, the place where it is just me. Alone I start to wonder if I could ever truly be alone, if I could ever really seclude myself. Do I own enough of my body to take it away from the world. Do I conduct my body, or am I a pawn? Do I have a say in the goings on in my life, or does the Higher Power direct my life?
I picture myself in this cave in the side of a cliff, overlooking a vast ocean. There is no clear way out, so I sit down. On the cold stone, the humbleness rushes over me. I feel in my gut, the pit of my stomach, the meekness. It is the feeling of a captive, a slave to the light breeze on my cheek. I am at the mercy of such a great span of water. A great span that I cannot manage, I cannot control. There in the stillness. I must be silent, I must drink in the knowledge that I am nothing, yet I am valuable. I am not God. I breathe in the ocean air and I wonder. And I whisper three words, “I give up.”