The Price of Boxes

I find myself at war with modern day existence. I have repeatedly over the years jumped out of the boxes that life has lined up, only to find a maze of new ones laid out before me.  Each has had a title like 'Achievement' or 'Happiness''.  A few have even had the tempting label of 'Fun' boldly written on them.  I mean who wouldn't want to try out a box that basically guarantees a good time.  But, before entering each box there is a price to pay.  While the price varies due to inflation and supply and demand, the accepted form is always the same, time and sanity.

 Early on in my life, I didn't mind parting with these currencies.  After all, I had such a plethora of both that I couldn't imagine a scenario when I would be without either.  I willingly plodded through the maze of modern life with both the optimism and ideology of youth. I believed there would always be choices that would lead me to my own personal greatness. The demanded price always seemed reasonable for the promise of a future of my choosing.  The problem is that neither time or sanity is something that can be replaced once gone.  I'm sure there are a few that would like to argue with me about the sanity piece.  But, you will most likely lose because, as everyone knows, insane people are never wrong.  I have spent my adult years slowly bleeding the two things most needed to exist or at the very least to select the next option in this twisted board game that is life.  

As I find myself at the half way point of my human existence, I am comforted by the thought that I still have some time left in which to continue this journey.  However, I no longer have nearly a fraction of the sanity required to execute the rest of my time here.  I now find myself hoarding the little bit I have left, saving it only for the moments of the upmost importance.  This has created a bit of a quandary for me because as I have so clearly explained I cannot move forward without first paying the toll.  So, here I sit in my latest box, entitled 'Solitary Confinement', gazing out at all the driven souls as they leap from one chronological cube to the next without hesitation.  I could join them and there are moments when I almost do, but something always pulls me back.  Usually, it's a thought.  One that urges,"Wait! You may need me one day." And, I am reminded again that my thoughts are my greatest resource as I carefully plot a way to move off the path toward the expansive openess that lies outside all the boxes.  At the moment, it appears that I am stalled as the rest of the world goes by.  But, in reality I am waiting for the time when I find the one truly brilliant conscious stream that allows me to escape the rigidness that is life and run into the quiet vastness that is beyond the path formed by others' wasted time and sanity.