For some time I have been chewing over the buddhist phrase "chop wood and carry water" - it's echo reverberates in a cyclical pattern like the seasons. It's a wonderful reminder that all things are equal, that you can either fight with life, or give in - understand that nothing is more important than what you are doing in this moment. A guide to the further shores of consciousness, of the beyond. A realization that there is no beyond - there is only now, and that we must continue to chop wood and carry water. That change comes from inside our power to alter perception, to radicalize our agency.
The phrase becomes a mantra for embodying this agency in every day life, where we can radiate out our internal triumphs. Where we can conquer the external world as it smacks against us. A place where there is no power but our own, every externality ingested equally, filtered through this internal understanding.
Finally, the words play upon themselves in a cyclical way that underscores the repetition and habit necessary to be submerged, utterly, in this inky void of equality. Two pairs of verbs and nouns rolling into infinity together, tumbling across a day, across every day. Showing us that our work is never done, our shores always teeming, the forest ever in a state of growth. That the real work of life begins when you accept that life is built upon every move taken, every word uttered and written, every embrace given or shunned - that all of life is chopping wood and carrying water. That rather than being a slave to your world, you are building it - actively - with every breath.
So, how will you move?