I sit and wonder

how we do it.

We

We see all that is around us,

us select few.

We Know

And We believe it to be important.

Though it tears apart our very existence

Tosses us into the most terrible of trenches

Seasons us with the most potent of spices

We push on

And We strive

for the Us that makes us.

We don't know why

or how

and especially not the What

but it is our only hope.

The fuel that fires the furnace

of the ever-present idea of pushing forward.

There are many of Us that don't believe,

but that is what separates us.

There are many that know,

but knowledge isn't understanding.

Understanding is self-sacrifice

And although coming to this understanding will cause you great pain, anxiety, fear, sorrow, hopelessness,

hopefulness, bliss, passion, compassion precede and postscript

The chasms that you know and dread.

For you've been there before

and you may never leave

but you accept what is given to you

thanks or no thanks to the mysterious forces at work

and of course

you push forward.