For as long as he could remember, Leo had been told to take deep breaths. That they'd help calm him, his anger, panic, emotions. It was a practice he'd come to every now and again, and, when he did, he was always reminded of how disappointing he found it. No matter how much air cycled through his lungs he felt exactly as tense, and concerned as when he'd start.
Still he often tried. Leo paced about his living room, continuing the breath work with little to no faith in its outcome. Times like this he wondered if the neighbours below could hear his anxious footsteps. He worried his madness would drive them crazy by proxy.
Yet he couldn't stop. It was all avoidance, he could admit that now. From the couch to his record player to the kitchen to his book shelf to the couch to the window to the table to the couch to his desk to the television to the window and back. Reaching for anything for an answer. A magazine, the post, vinyl, his toothbrush, a book of quotes, the fridge, and his phone, always his phone. Relentless scrolling mined nothing but hours lost. Emails and texts needed answers, people he cared about, and admired awaited his final decision.
His eyes took to the windowsill where a well worn Magick Eight Ball from his childhood rested. The answer "Better Not Tell You Now" sat hovering from a shake an hour before. Despite Leo's incessant insistence in consulting the toy, rare, if ever, did he receive clarity on the questions he asked.
Couch cushions absorbed his next collapse. With his face buried, Leo found an ounce of gratitude for their comfort. Thankful he'd rented a property from generous landlords. The couch, amongst many items within the apartment, was lovely. In the darkness behind his eyelids reality came roaring back. He needed to decide. So far as he could see, there was no path forward aside from the three, each carried weight. There was no more finagling or trying to patch together an optimal choice. Things were as they presented. Heavy with consequence, both good and bad.
Anxiety pulled Leo to his feet like a puppet and set him off on another involuntary lap. He'd been doing his best to allow himself to be guided by the forces beyond him. To surrender to the Universe, to the fates. For the past few days she hadn't been speaking. Or at least, Leo hadn't been hearing.
Outside of waiting for her guidance, Leo had made his usual calls, and spoke to his most admired, and sage friends. Casual insights aside, their advice arrived at the same a dead end as his own deliberations. He then tried three online horoscope apps, and par trite accuracies of his character, there was no further illumination regarding what he should do.
From his mantle he pulled a worn tarot deck and shuffled. The peeled bent cards felt soothing as they mixed and flipped in his hands. He'd had the deck for years, and still knew next to nothing on how to read it. They'd found their way in Leo's life during a period that mirrored his current situation, when he'd been desperate for answers, and open to anything for clarity. Memories of late nights spent with friends playing with oracle cards and Ouija boards, visiting palm readers, and phoney psychics put him under a spell, and held him in a trance. Leo's shuffles became more reckless as he stepped.
Death leapt from his fingers to the floor and stared at him face up. Leo rolled his eyes. A jumper. Cards that popped on their own accord, believed to be outside of chance, selected by the divine. It was one of few that he understood, and he knew it well. Death. Change. Often mistaken for a bad omen. Leo didn't bother to pick it up, he avoided the card in the same way he'd been dancing around making the decision, and instead, stalked to his bedroom.
He threw himself across the bed, over his dishevelled sheets. It had been "made" in some description, but was more a poor attempt at order, and technicality. "Just" enough. Beside his pillow lay two philosophy books, opened and upside down to keep their page. More wu wu, more attempts at divine intervention. He shook his head at himself, and placed a comforting palm to his eye. The books only repeated the pattern. When would he have enough answers?
He couldn't help himself. Forever inquisitive. A quality that brought good fortune, and occasional misery. Data collection, pattern recognition, all helpful, until he faced his own repetitions. He felt feeble. He needed more. He needed a fix, a fix to this problem, if only he had some profound deeper information, something to swing his compass, a Northern Star, or Node- anything to guide him. Leo rolled to his back and watched his ceiling fan's slow repeated cycles. The moment he thought of them as little metaphors for his indecision he leapt up and ran from the realization.
Leo returned to the living room and sat at his desk. Notebooks and wipe boards lay scattered. On a fresh page he began his umpteenth pro and con list. Lines were drawn for each option, including a new fourth, for his own internal reactions. Something had to be chosen. Leo reached for the previous papers to make sure he wouldn't forget anything, then thought better of it.
Instead he returned to the forefront of the room and scooped Death from the floor. He'd let the old thoughts slide. At this point he knew enough, whatever came to the forefront of his mind deserved to be on the page. With the card settled and watching from the corner of his desk, Leo got scribbling.
His handwriting was frantic as he tried to keep pace with the sliding scales in his mind. Daydreams of different scenarios poured into a tsunami of pros and cons until the paper was teeming. Two choices would force Leo from his town, from his home. Each decision had a cost, some stood to gain higher wages, others less. Overwhelmed by the scope left on the page Leo stuck a desperate hand in his pocket, fishing for a coin. With a quarter palmed he caught himself before he flipped and halted. He knew that this choice couldn't be fated. Instead he channelled the feelings that would come with each outcome of the coin. The joy and harm his decision could cause to those he cared about. The relief, or resistance, was added to the fourth column.
A torrent of ideas poured. For the first time Leo considered the effects and tolls to his emotional well being. Regardless of the pay, how happy would he be maintaining relationships on video calls, and obliged holiday time. What difference would the wage make if he could afford trips to Paris, but had to use his time off and excess wealth to visit the people he was already surrounded by? His pen flashed, and struck off unnecessary gains, and foolish sacrifices from the other columns. He scribbled in the margins, a new filter, a new process. Intention.
The word itself paused him. What did he hope to receive, where exactly did he want to be. In terms of satisfaction, in regards to the feelings he wanted his days to start and end with. An abundance of calm, a deep peace. Ease, gratitude. Time to balance his health, his mind, to invest himself into his relationships. Leo resisted the internal voices that called himself out for being cringe, or cheesy, it mattered not. He focused on love granted, potential love gifted, or gained, then leaned back with a smile.
Leo placed another page beside his last, and constructed a fifth element to his decision. What if he went off script? Declined all the options. What if the balance he needed was following a new path, one he'd been too afraid to pursue. What if he called a number he swore he'd never dial again, and followed his heart rather than his mind? What if he freed himself from outside opinion, finances, expectations, and a perceived purpose, and moved instead to what he felt mattered, answering a deeper calling. His eyes moved around his home again looking for answers, and what he saw was abundance. He had more than enough to live comfortably. Saving dollars would not save himself. The love and comfort he craved could flourish right here, right beside him, from his own light rather than some perceived light at the end of a tunnel, or dancing on the wall of a cave. The way forward would be more difficult than he'd like, harder than his other options, but if it worked, the joy would be more than he could imagine. Why not free himself, and see where the chips fell?
Things could end up worse. It was probable that they would. Success was far from guaranteed, however, there was victory in the pursuit. There was pride in the attempt. Regret was a cold truth he'd suffer more from by not swinging for the fences. It would be much harder trying to pick himself up from a failure of never trying. His thumb closed the apps on his phone, and dialled the numbers he'd been avoiding. The dial tone sounded like a song. Leo Leapt.
Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out the previous 12 part collection of Zoditraxx, and consider the other side of subtle dualities.
-Mr. Write
PS: Be sure to check out Exaggerated Shadow’s new release for Libratarian on all your favourite streaming platforms!