Mirage
We invite people to our space because we believe it is different, and hopefully useful. We also open it because we realize we need fresh air and new ideas. We need travelers to share with us what they have seen and experienced. Ultimately, we need others to help us change.
We seek change. But everything is always changing so I suppose we seek transformation or transcendence rather than the need to be something specific. We want to become the person who may have the experience we can envision. Frequently, our search finds us distracted, constant change leads to discontent — the side effect of true inquiry. On a path, every watering hole seems like it is “the one,” it also seems like there’s always something better out there. Both are traps, until you know exactly who you are and what you need to feel fulfilled.
We want to find out who we are — this is the process of creating art. Every once in a while, we think we can see it clearly, but the identity we build for ourselves to represent who we think we are is a mask, and we are simply wishing that the shape of the veil leaves a permanent imprint that others recognize. An identity is as freeing as the persona we hide it with. So when we talk about ridding ourselves of an “I” sometimes our desire goes with it. We often claw back our deficiencies — our negative traits — because at least with that, comes a yearning.
Our lives are malleable to a point, but eventually the fire will fade, life will solidify like the words carved into a headstone that punctuates its end. What will these words say, will they remark on who you were, what you did, or how you affected others? These questions hold the potential for our ability to change. They are often terrifying because however much control we can express over the process, we have next to no control of others' perception. We can be impactful but we rarely dictate whether that is positive or negative. We can say something meaningful, but it will only be recorded by someone who etched something of equal importance every day before us. What we see in the distance of our lives, waving in the heat of the horizon is rarely there, but the process to find out that it doesn’t exist is important.
Our space was recently referred to as an oasis, a place for refreshment, nourishment—a saving grace. As good as it feels to hear, I have to disagree. Our space is just A space. You don’t need us, this or anyone else. You can create whatever environment you need, you just need to look beyond the mirage.
