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  • Writer's picturedavidauten

The Shape of Water

The great mystery is just being here. All around you, before you and beneath you, above you and behind you, something rather than nothing. There is also the evanescence of your own mystery: once you were not, and one day you will no longer be, with no knowledge of exactly where you came from or where you are going. To attempt a taxonomy of the mystery, systematizing, categorizing, and labeling the mystery, is like trying to hold water. If you use a basin or a bowl, you predetermine its shape, inserting yourself into what you see, and, without such a tool, you realize you cannot contain it. But beyond tooling, there is the simple joy of beholding, humbly and from afar. Then, the water shapes you.

If life is anything it is fluid. It is never too late to exchange the things you believed defined you for something better observed Guillermo del Toro. The shape of a life is not defined by what you hold fast but what washes over you, the ebb and flow of countless phenomena in a universe baptizing you with a new way of seeing that everyone has but few use. Open your eyes! Extend your ears! Touch. Taste. Breath in the aroma of life. Domesticating transcendence distances you from yourself; there is a reason you cannot touch the sky. Staying close-in, however, submerged in the miracle at hand, with a heart full of reverence, and little need for articulation, you discover that this moment as every moment of your life is a watershed clearing the way for the glory of something new.

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