What if we awoke to a world where you had no choice but to be authentic? A flood causing your authenticity, or the lack thereof, to be easily detected by those coming in contact with you. This would have scared me to death 10 years ago. Thankfully, not the case now.
I'm struck by how much time can be spent getting back our identity from a world that seems bent on taking and counterfeiting it. Even more tragic are those who never get it back or care to attempt the feat. It's as if there's a daunting figure who scares you into giving up dreaming, giving up taking a chance, giving up the willingness to be laughed at. And then you're convinced to take the position pill of safety and conformity.
The following concert clip is from Peter Gabriel. I don't know if he ever confirmed it, but I've read that the song is about a major shift in our ability to see the authenticity in other people. And instead of me trying to explain in a half way, take a peak at the clip or read the lyrics below the video:
When the night shows
the signals grow on radios
All the strange things
they come and go, as early warnings
Stranded starfish have no place to hide
still waiting for the swollen Easter tide
There's no point in direction we cannot
even choose a side.
I took the old track
the hollow shoulder, across the waters
On the tall cliffs
they were getting older, sons and daughters
The jaded underworld was riding high
Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky
and as the nail sunk in the cloud, the rain
was warm and soaked the crowd.
Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
in any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.
When the flood calls
You have no home, you have no walls
In the thunder crash
You're a thousand minds, within a flash
Don't be afraid to cry at what you see
The actors gone, there's only you and me
And if we break before the dawn, they'll
use up what we used to be.
Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
in any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.
There is no doubt, the only way you're going to have a life worth remembering is getting to (or back to) a place of being "real." For whatever hell you encounter in doing it, worth the effort is an apt response to that crossroads. My prayer and energy goes out to you.