the most frightening sound

Deep in my bones, somewhere near my marrow, sits a dissatisfaction. Gnawingly, softly, the disquiet stirs me; echoes pulsing, it begins to sound. It begs me to listen to its low rumble. It whispers, but I can't yet make out its words.

This is good, because its words matter less than the command hidden in the reverberations. Do not trade greatness for comfort, do not live quietly, do not mistake contentment for joy, and do not, under any circumstance, live ordinarily.

I imagine most people experience a similar visceral reminder of our great potential. Whether it's an echo of a voice lost somewhere inside or another incantation, I am not naive to think I am somehow special. No, it's quite the opposite. The power in the message is that we can all hear it if we listen. I'm sure some ignore it, few hear it, even fewer listen to it, and rarely does anyone realize its meaning.

It is the most frightening sound imaginable because it is the intonation of everything that can and must be.

For some reason, as my 24th year wanes, I can hear it louder than ever. My ear drums are consumed by its nearly maniacal pounding, the sound of every caged wing, bloodied by the wire, of all the hearts silently raging, beating and demanding. My body is shaking with it - do something. Live unafraid and realize our limitlessness.

While I wouldn't exactly say I've spent my life on my laurels, I know the disquiet is calling me now for a reason.

I'm listening...

I'm listening...