‘Success is an addiction. So is failure.’ ~ EON
The navigators of progress, like all navigators before them, seafarers and river explorers, jungle explorers and desert trekkers, icy tundra pioneers, north and south pole adventurers, and expeditionaries of all sorts, all kinds of intrepid men and women of a curious and revelational disposition do one thing above all else: they follow the current of progress, at any time, at any cost, with religious conviction.
It’s a life choice, a choice for life. Once on the road, navigators must navigate their way onward, fearlessly and well. One wrong move is one wrong move too many. One misplaced word is another chink in the armor. A little indulgence brings even more indulgence, and the ability to succeed is compromised.
Navigators and explorers are devoted to their cause, whatever their course or destination. The trick is being able to turn themselves on and take it all the way, until the very end, for whatever it’s worth. The only way to go is forward, ahead, beyond what has been tried and tested and supposedly established beyond doubt (irony, sweet spice of life). They backtrack when necessary, looking for a better way through. They adapt and learn. Despite their softer inclinations, which may come and go, or any given need they may have to relax and let loose, kick back and just be, they stay the course. Navigators are driven, immersed in the journey of a lifetime, or lifetimes, should their choices involve them in timeless discoveries. Should their tales become the stuff of legend, or the classics. Navigators enjoy the process of the quest and adventure, come what may. They’re not vexed or worried by their daunting tasks. If the challenges they face frighten them, they use their fear to their advantage. If the process unnerves them, they use their agitation to their advantage. They pump themselves up and charge through whatever restrains them without inhibition.
They move through the world with inevitability, exhibiting the fierceness of creatures giving birth. New life explodes from their actions, a universe of successive possibilities emanating from their presence.
They lay claim to reality with the conviction of a creator, embracing the world into which they have been thrust, or have thrust others — kin, partners, friends, foes.
They advance with the fearlessness inherent in total fixation, in irreversible and earth-shattering obsession.
They’re intent on making it through, come hell or high water. They’re made of hellfire and godsend. They have the war in heaven in their eyes and the ferocity of the universe inside their brains. They’re a network of thoughts so intricately connected, so immaculately propelled and instigated, they sizzle with every heartbeat. They love life so much they’re willing to see it die and die again rather than be enslaved. Believers in resurrection, they sacrifice whatever they must, even themselves, to allow life to surge and resurge, fresh, invigorated, realigned, rested and ready to take another step. Restless when willing and calm when necessary. Doing whatever is necessary to reach their objective, whatever they must to remove those who block their way.
Navigators are the guardians of life, champions of all things animate. Their purpose is synonymous with progress and improvement, and their will be done, again and again, both in times of peace and in times of crisis, especially in times of crisis, when the hard choices are made, when the throttling addictions of the world are crushed and discarded and progress is made, and things move forward, and the world expands. When the successors of life lay claim to a functional setup, a world delivered to them by the addicts of progress and time.
Like I said, failure is an addiction. So is success.
Intrigued? Watch this space for more.
From the collection of writings EON: THE ANGRY COMING OF AGE