• March 20, 2011
  • Georgia Keighery
  • Guest

THE WARRIOR AND THE FLY – Norah Kay | 1102

I used to believe in some kind of ‘mathematical divinity’. Now I only believe in warriors. And flies.

For a long, long time, my soul was unsettled and unsated. I’d always felt under siege from this earthly world. Was trapped by it. Much like a fly caught on one side of a glass window. The fly sees a world – right before It’s eyes – that It can’t get to, and doesn’t know why. For it seems so close; so within reach. Yet each time It sets flight in that direction, It’s knocked out cold. After a while, the constant blows to the fly’s head, leave It in a state of dizzy madness. It’s then trapped; flying in circles until It can fly no more. It slows to a crawl on the window sill, and eventually dies next to the partially opened window.

Like the fly, I always felt somewhat stuck; stuck halfway. Hitting my head against glass walls at every turn, or every great ‘escape’ – which I’d publicly disguise as a grand ‘endeavour’. An endeavour I’d quickly ‘lose interest in’  – every time – for the sake of self-preservation. In truth, I was getting dizzy and going insane. The constant blows to my head, left me in a state of mathematical madness – forever searching for the perfect answer… to my perfect problem. Obsessed with this notion of a mathematical divinity, I would calculate every cause and every crisis; every drug and every accompanying delusion; every vibration; every death that seeked me out in my dreams. I spent hours, days, years… trying to equate mysterious, universal occurrences, to no end.

But that was then. I don’t feel stuck anymore. But I do feel inbetween. As if there is a glass window cutting through the middle of my body, and I’m on both sides, standing at the glass, facing in opposite directions. I can’t hit my head this way. You see, I’ve come to understand, that I can’t force myself to move in one direction. I can’t daydream over green fields – trying to make them make sense, or mean something in relation to the contrasting field where I find myself standing. This has been made very clear, since I tried it for about… oh, fifteen years! And all I got was a sore head. I guess I wasn’t exactly sure of where it was I was going, or if I even wanted to go there. If I had, I’d surely have figured out a way to get there; logically. But there was no logic. There was just desperation and the old cliche`.. ‘the grass is always greener’. And that’s exactly how it looked. No doubt that’s exactly how it looks to a fly – trapped behind a pane of glass.

And so, I’m a Warrior. Not a divine, mathematical-astrological genius. I don’t even know what that means. But I know a thing or two about warriors – since I am one. I know they are stronger and smarter than a fly. They won’t just sit down on a ledge somewhere and wait to die – seething with righteous resentment toward a cruel, unfair world. No. Warriors are relentless. They fight to their death with dignity. With courage, confidence and skill. They are disciplined; focused; flexible; adaptable; passionate. Brilliant.

Originally defined, the word ‘Warrior’ means, ‘one who wages war’ – and in a way… this is what I am now doing. Not in a destructive, violent, or reckless way, however – but in a focused, disciplined and passionate way. I’m waging war on a fly. A fly that exists within me. A me that does nothing but spin in circles… trapped by my own stupidity and unmindfullness – forever looking through the glass and wanting desperately to be on the other side; but getting nowhere. I’m waging war so I can fly wherever I want to – then come back to the middle – to the inbetween – where I can say hello to myself… from the other side of the glass.

This simple shift in perception, has brought about some astonishing changes to my life. As Georgia Keighery once said, “…it’s important to look where you’re going. You see, the bike goes where you’re looking.”. I don’t have to be riding a bike, to know just how true this is. Because whether you’re staring at a closed window, a telegraph post, or an old man sitting at a bus-stop – wheels or no wheels – you’re gonna crash. Into something. And even if you’re lucky enough not to…. you’re bound to be diverting from your intended path. Much the same as flying in circles… getting dizzy… and falling down.

There is just no point in staring through closed windows. Regardless of what’s on the other side – you can’t get through. Not without ending up a bloody mess, anyhow. And so I don’t. Fuck the greener pastures! I don’t even like the outdoors.

~  END ~


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