Desire

The Movement is restless. A feeling to take hold of the moment is no longer fleeting. The moments are no longer occasional. The desire to press forward, to take the raging bull by it?s horns and pin it to the dirt, to control its fury, to blow dust in its tamed face, the desire to set it free and enjoy it?s new found freedom. The desire of the horse to run with its wild comrades, to join those who are not bound by the restrictions of the framework provided. To not be constrained by the mundane life that requests so much, but often gives so little in return. Those in the Movement know only too well that desire is a dangerous element, a superficial and exotic dance which when trained can be used to provide motivation, but when cut loose, when let free to roam the emotions of our lives, to rule the roost of our actions, it can overthrow the control we seem so set on maintaining. Desire: It?s drum beats a wild jungle beat no doubt.