Life is a continuous string of aerations, pearling moments that we ease by or clunk over as eternal knots. We’re constantly easing and climbing where life often begins as a thick, anaerobic sludge. Breaking it down is challenging and can feel almost impossible to manoeuvre. Air lacks and signs point in a million directions.
Until life’s aerators switch on and we’re suddenly whisking in a big milk shake.
Aerators add air. Some are huge machines that are used to mix thick wastewater or sewage as a way of adding air where no air exists. It’s the important first step in treating and cleaning the sewage by supporting natural biological processes without the aid of harsh chemicals. The whole sewage treatment process is fascinating, as are the aerators, which appear as contraptions that Leonardo da Vinci may have drawn in the 15th Century.
Life is one continuous strand full of necessary aerations, of cleaning and sorting, of froth and bubbles full of a pungent pong as it attempts to move to an airy aroma. These aerations repeat in ebbs and flows, as the cycle of life.
The aerating process could extend for any length of time, a second, a few minutes or a week. We may catch a serendipitous ripple and flow past the aerators’ rotors onto the next pearl of where we’re meant to be.
Other times can be the extreme opposite where unfortunately for some, aerating that anaerobic pit can take a lifetime. It can mix us sick or we can become stagnant to whiz in the same place over and over again. Life can become stuck as we try to sort through the messy shit.
Celebrations and upset come and go, desires and expectations change or aren’t met. For some, it’s a taut succession of requirements and obligations that must be sorted and prioritised.
He has more than she, she wants him and he wants him too. Excitement and joy, loving and being loved, loneliness, death …
All merge into dreams of sleep that can haze a reality of feelings, of what’s real and what’s not, what’s true and not or what’s what.
The aeration can be slow and tedious or it can quicken through the night with glimpses of opportunity shining from under a blue moon. We reach and stretch and stop struggling against the aerators to instead, flow with them to whiz wherever life takes us. We’re spat out to continue to the next pearl in life.
Soon enough, we’re out of that aeration and past those knots onto pursuing those opportunities glimpsed.
At times though, being caught up in those rotors can become a comfort zone and the trick is in the letting go of the struggle to allow those rotors to shake us and lead us somewhere new. In letting go, the kinks in the strand of pearls unfurl to sit relaxed and loose, free to go where they need to go.
It’s a trick that I wonder whether anyone has truly mastered, magician or otherwise!