In the Shadow of the Vulture

The push.

The weight.

The gravity.

The resistance.

The excuses.

The distractions (oh man, the distractions).

The overwhelming thoughts.

The panic.

The inability to finish.

The wanting to have it perfected, and instead never completing.

The “to do” list continues to build yet nothing seems to come off.

The anxiety of the undone.

THE PUSH….

And the cycle repeats….

In the effort of getting even one thing of consequence done, the pressure of all my unfulfilled ideas, projects, and tasks mount and paralyze me. I try to dig out as shovel-fulls of dirt rain down, they bury me. This cycle and feeling has persisted for as long as I can remember. Sometimes shovels are replaced by wheelbarrows or dump trucks. Suffocating, unending and all self administered. That feeling is right now, as I struggled to begin to write this. That constriction comes with every meaningful task. The feeling of anxiety and self loathing manifests into a less than ideal version of myself, a failure. I change into a character of myself that is less patient, less loving, quicker to anger, and hardly present in the moment. That self imposed state is the thief of joy and meaningful personal human connection. I can feel it build inside me, I see it in my actions, and hear it in my words spoken aloud. I am sure others can see and feel it too as the veil is thin as parchment. IT has a name, The Vulture. The Vulture takes and lies and distracts and tricks, I am forever in its shadow.

I will be forever in the shadow of The Vulture. Ever circling, ever present, ever patient… waiting for my failure and my weakness. Beneath it I walk in quicksand.

In the beginning The Vulture promised to lead me to more fun, to better times, and to a fuller, richer life. Forget your school work and have some fun it said, I obeyed. Put off the report and meet up with your friends it said, I obeyed. There will be time for responsibilities later it said, I obeyed. When I let friends or family down it said, “you can make it up to them next time”. There is always later, there is always tomorrow, said The Vulture… I listened, because I wanted to. I listened because it was right… until it wasn’t. What The Vulture was leading me further into the desert, further from water and salvation. Alone and parched the wasteland it is a hard landscape to find love and meaning and self.

The Vulture. Just in knowing its name and becoming aware of its presence, the power it holds over me lessens. I see you Vulture; thief, liar. Over the years and decades I have come to know you. I understand your nature. I know your intent and I recognize the sound of your call. Your voice is mine, but not exactly. In knowing you, I have driven you higher and further away. Your shadow has become a speck and your voice a whisper. In times of weakness you still descend and eclipse me in your crooked feathered wingspan. Still at times I hear your call and stumble in shifting sands with blistered feet. You will forever circle, but I know your name.

I will always be in the shadow of The Vulture, but I no longer obey. I will forever hear its call, but I know where The Vulture leads.

I choose.

This is my path and these are my choices to make.

I write this now, in the shadow of The Vulture. It has called to me all the while with false promises, I did not obey. With conviction I call its name and in doing so cast it out and up with a wind of self-determination. The Vulture is quiet for now, its voice too far off to be persuasive.

At this moment I am free. Past all of the resistance and distraction and out from under the jagged shadow there is no pressure or gravity, no angst or resistance.. The Vulture will forever circle, but it will not feed, not today. Not as long as I know its name, not as long as I choose.