The Quest for Mastery: A Reflection on Life's Journey and Creativity

Have you ever felt you mastered something that truly resonated with you? This question struck me deeply when I was just about to embark on a new chapter of my life, realizing that the things I thought defined success—money, apartments, and cars—were merely surface-level markers of achievement. At the ripe age of 27, I looked out the windows of the apartment I had just purchased and felt I had just begun. Money, homes, and vehicles held no real meaning; what mattered was the sense of ongoing progress and the desire to continually uplift others.

A Constant Pursuit of Growth

When I was younger, the idea of "making it" felt like an irrevocable achievement, a feeling of accomplishment that was hard to shake off. However, over the years, my perspective has evolved. Yes, there are moments of that familiar sense of achievement, but they are often overshadowed by a vision of what lies ahead—a goal accomplished, an organization helped, or a person lifted up. The notion of finally making it fades away as the awareness of the boundless good that still needs to be done in this world sets in. It is a journey, not a destination.

No, the feeling of 'finally making it' has never come my way. Until it does, I will continue to question and reflect on this very notion, understanding that the quest for mastery is an eternal journey. Whether it be in the realm of writing or any other field, the pursuit of excellence is a continuous process. Recently, I found myself at a 3 a.m. literary creation, driven by an urge to share a poem that had undergone numerous edits. It is a candid expression of my thoughts and emotions, and I share it here, inviting suggestions for improvement.

A Poetic Reflection on Life's Emptiness

The poem below is a reflection on the transient nature of life:

3 a.m. Coffee

I woke with a start body empty and cold
from slumber depths I transpired
by a chill in the breeze blown over in a gust
Tis a message from thundering clouds
Awaken rain's coming

I got up but lingered
Held prisoner by the deceiving hammock
not a chirping a crowing or a movement of any soul
I found myself up again at the lonely hour
feet on the ground but it's only 3 oclock
little leaves dry and light
fallen away from its mother tree
Stopped and scurried past my feet
tumbling and free

What good is a free leaf
but sustenance to well being and growth
all of which has none for it therein
it'll soon be soil if not burned up in flames
blown and tossed as signs of life receded from sight
that's all there is to it at this point

as written in the law of nature
and as the story of life
there’s never been any other way
Hold tight the emptiness echoed
beckoning awareness to its presence…
or absence
either would tell the same tale
There it is or there it is not

But one thing for sure
It still is
as raw and threatening
as it was from day one
I'll not be friends
with this emptiness no matter
It'll linger as always
and sing laments of sorrow
it'll chant to helplessness
my pain the life of its words

Silence is deafening
Thus it's 3 a.m. o’clock
Sleep’s nowhere to be found
yet day is just a break away
Made coffee and warmed my face
by a comforting cup of steam held in place
for a sip that did not occur
eyes now wet and sore
throat dry and obstructed
I stared blankly at trendy drama
splayed for all to see on pages of the face
seen only on screen and not elsewhere
enabling the portrayal of falsehood

and the demise of forever brother hood
for what was once and should've been only matters of the heart
has become entertainment as of late
and the laughingstock of the century

I mourn the loss of true happiness and privacy
wisdom, integrity, innocence, depth, and genuine heartfelt emotions
all up in flames just like that

Cup’s now empty and cold
Coffee’s wearing off
I should sleep sleep I should
or should I now I thought
Seeing the light of dawn creeping up from east

Just a few winks oughta make a difference
or not
but before I do just that
I’m blowing a kiss
to you
Penny my love
I hope you’re smiling in your sleep

ps: I’ve inserted breaks but they're not showing after I hit submit. Sorry for the painful read.

Writing is my kingdom, and every poem I produce is a reflection of my soul. It is a form of self-expression that transcends the ordinary, giving voice to the quiet musings and profound thoughts that often arise in the dead of night. This poem is one such reflection, a candid discourse on life's fleeting moments and the unyielding emptiness that sometimes permeates our existence.

While the journey of mastering something is never complete, the pursuit of it is what makes life worth living. For me, it's about creating, expressing, and connecting with others in meaningful ways.